Gravity

There are moments when responsibility doesn’t feel like a choice, but a kind of gravity. It’s quiet, constant, unrelenting. I used to think adulthood would be about doing what I wanted, when I wanted. But the truth is, most of the time, I’m moving under the weight of obligations I didn’t even see forming until they rooted themselves in my spine. Responsibility can be heavy in a way that makes your shoulders ache, but there's also a strange kind of dignity in it. There’s pride in showing up, in staying when you could leave, in trying when no one would blame you for quitting. Sometimes I resent it. Sometimes I’m grateful for it. Mostly, I just carry it.

• Responsibility
• Burden
• Adulthood