Aditi Varman | The Chronicle
“You do not owe anyone anything.”
Personally, I owe my neighbor a cookie, I owe my friends spontaneous texts saying “this reminded me of you” and I owe my favorite teacher a wave in the hallway.
These small gestures are the glue that holds relationships together. They are reminders that we exist not only for ourselves, but for each other.
The “main character mindset,” which is currently preached on social media, tells us to prioritize ourselves. It sounds empowering: self-care, self-love, self-worth. But at some point, all that “self-praise” turned into self-absorption. In the name of empowerment, we have excused avoidance. It is easy to romanticize isolation and call it independence, or to turn kindness into inconvenience.
We need to inconvenience ourselves more often. Over time, we have become so obsessed with ourselves that we have forgotten to be present. This mindset has slowly started excusing selfishness. It is the death of human unity. It is called “self-care” when we cancel plans last minute or ignore a friend’s call because we “do not have the energy”. It is called “protecting our peace” when what we are really doing is protecting our comfort.
Being human sometimes means being uncomfortable.
If it is my friend’s birthday, I am going to celebrate with them, no matter what alternative events I could attend, or not attend. It is the one day of the year you need to be there for them, to show up and celebrate them. My other stuff does not matter. The world would not end if I turned in an assignment an hour later or lose sleep. But for my friend, that night might be one of the memories that sticks, the kind they look back on and remember who showed up.
Friendships are not transactional, but they are reciprocal.
That is what inconveniencing yourself really means. Not neglecting your own needs, but recognizing that love and friendship often ask for time and energy. This is the cost of community.
I think about the time a friend showed up for me after a day of me being sick and missing school. She had brought me dinner when I had not even asked. I remember thinking how unnecessary it was, and yet, how much lighter the room felt when she arrived. That kind of friend does not ask, “Do I have time?”. Instead, they ask, “Do they need me right now?” And that small choice, to be present despite inconvenience, is what real friendship looks like.
When we start treating care as optional, relationships become shallow. The truth is, our lives are built on the foundation of other people’s time, energy, and patience. To go out of your way for someone is to acknowledge that foundation, to recognize that your world is supported by the presence and effort of those around you.
True care is not only measured by grand gestures but by the willingness to show up when it matters most. Choosing presence over comfort strengthens bonds and builds trust. In those moments, we discover the power of human connections and the ways our attention shapes the lives of others.
