Thank you for sharing this. I absolutely detest the hustle culture and romanticizing work exhaustion as a badge of honor. No. Get some sleep. Hang out with your loved ones. Cuddle with your dogs/cats 🐾💜
This really resonates with me Notes, and not really the attendance itself, but the quiet pressure that sits underneath it.
The idea that showing up matters more than slowing down. That absence becomes weakness. That love is earned through consistency rather than care...
You name how those lessons get inherited, almost invisibly, and how early they teach us not to rest, not to need, not to fall apart.
What I felt most strongly was your refusal of that bargain. The wish isn’t for perfection — it’s for something that interrupts performance. Something that teaches us we’re allowed to be ordinary, tired, human.
And yes — I hope he has a dog too.
Because there’s a particular kind of love that arrives without conditions or scorekeeping. The kind that drags you outside when it’s raining, reads you in a glance, and never asks what you earned before it shows up.
I felt this. That instinctive “that poor kid” says everything not judgment, just recognition. You’re not talking about attendance at all, really; you’re naming the quiet terror of never being allowed to stop, to be ill, to be human.
The way you trace it back to love being conditional feels painfully accurate. Especially that line about absence being weakness. I know that family tree too. I know what it costs to climb out of it.
And then the pivot to humour is perfect. Tender, self-aware, not dismissive. Same energy made me smile in that aching way where you laugh because it’s true. The dog hope at the end is beautiful not a fix, just a counter-lesson: joy, mess, rain, unconditional presence.
This feels like compassion aimed in two directions at once, toward that kid you don’t know, and toward yourself. Thank you for sharing
Thank you for sharing this. I absolutely detest the hustle culture and romanticizing work exhaustion as a badge of honor. No. Get some sleep. Hang out with your loved ones. Cuddle with your dogs/cats 🐾💜
This really resonates with me Notes, and not really the attendance itself, but the quiet pressure that sits underneath it.
The idea that showing up matters more than slowing down. That absence becomes weakness. That love is earned through consistency rather than care...
You name how those lessons get inherited, almost invisibly, and how early they teach us not to rest, not to need, not to fall apart.
What I felt most strongly was your refusal of that bargain. The wish isn’t for perfection — it’s for something that interrupts performance. Something that teaches us we’re allowed to be ordinary, tired, human.
And yes — I hope he has a dog too.
Because there’s a particular kind of love that arrives without conditions or scorekeeping. The kind that drags you outside when it’s raining, reads you in a glance, and never asks what you earned before it shows up.
That felt like the heart of this piece.
Thank you for sharing 💛
Love this! The empathy for suffering of "award winning" perfect attendees.
Too few people stop to think about that.
Beautifully written! I loved the two parts and how you came back to the beginning and connected it to your life. Keep writing!
Thank you so much!!
I felt this. That instinctive “that poor kid” says everything not judgment, just recognition. You’re not talking about attendance at all, really; you’re naming the quiet terror of never being allowed to stop, to be ill, to be human.
The way you trace it back to love being conditional feels painfully accurate. Especially that line about absence being weakness. I know that family tree too. I know what it costs to climb out of it.
And then the pivot to humour is perfect. Tender, self-aware, not dismissive. Same energy made me smile in that aching way where you laugh because it’s true. The dog hope at the end is beautiful not a fix, just a counter-lesson: joy, mess, rain, unconditional presence.
This feels like compassion aimed in two directions at once, toward that kid you don’t know, and toward yourself. Thank you for sharing