Kindness When Youre Tired

Dear younger me,

Look, I’m no expert on this. But I wish I could’ve sat you down after the third time you snapped at your kid over spilled juice, then cried in the car with your head on the steering wheel. You thought kindness was a luxury you couldn’t afford when your hands were shaking from exhaustion. You were wrong.

Here’s what I figured out: Kindness isn’t about being perfect. It’s about showing up even when you’re broken. Like that night the youngest got sick, and you were too tired to even make soup. You just sat on the bathroom floor with him, holding his forehead, whispering, “I’m here,” while your own eyes burned. That’s the kind of kindness that matters—not the grand gestures, but the tiny, tired ones you do when you’re running on fumes.

You made a mistake thinking you had to be strong for everyone else. You yelled when you were drowning, and then you drowned harder because you felt like a failure. But the truth? The kids didn’t need a superhero. They needed you—tired, messy, and still trying. When you finally stopped punishing yourself for being human, you started to see it: kindness to yourself is kindness to them.

You thought asking for help meant you were weak. But that time you called your sister at 2 a.m. and let her take the kids for a walk? That wasn’t weakness. That was the bravest thing you’d done in months. You just do the next thing—like fixing the leaky faucet instead of the whole house. One small act of grace, then the next.

You’re not broken, kid. You’re just tired. And the kindest thing you can do for yourself right now is to stop pretending you’re not. Let yourself rest. Let yourself cry. Let yourself say, “I can’t do this alone.” The world won’t end if you’re not perfect. Your kids will remember how you held them when you were tired, not how you never stumbled.

So here’s the thing: Be kind to the tired you. Because the tired you is the one who’s still showing up. And that’s enough.

— Jimmy Hawkins, just a dad figuring it out