Kindness is a Choice

People often tell me I’m “so kind.” As if it’s something I was born with.

But I wasn’t. As a kid, I was taught to be kind so I could go to heaven. It was a reward or a warning. A carrot or a stick.

I wasn’t kind for the right reasons … I was simply compliant.

But now, as an adult, kindness is something I choose. Especially on the days when I feel depleted. Especially when it would be easier not to.

It’s not for applause but it’s also not an act of selflessness. When I hand out my little tokens of appreciation to strangers, it sometimes feels like an act of defiance.

A way to say: I see you. I value you. You matter. Even when the world treats you like background noise.

Kindness, to me, is a way of noticing. It’s a creative act. A cultural resistance.

A practice of paying attention. Not to save my soul but, perhaps, to save humanity.