The Price of Being Priceless

There is a strange irony in being "too good" at your job. You become the person that everyone relies on - the one who keeps everything running, who knows the unspoken rules, who fills the gaps without being asked. You become priceless - not because you're treated like treasure, but because your value is so assumed it becomes invisible.

I asked for three days off at my paycheck job and I was asked, "Who is going to do your job, you need someone to take care of your duties while you're gone."

But here's the thing: there is no one else. I am the only admin. And those three days? They're not a vacation. I am driving upstate to pick up my dad to bring him back downstate for his cancer treatment and drive him back. It's not time off. It's time given - to someone I love, in a moment that matters more than any spreadsheet or email ever could.

And still I am expected to apologize for it. To feel guilty. To plan for my absence like I am abandoning ship.

But I'm not abandoning anything. I'm showing up - for my family, for my values, and the future I am building. A future where care isn't punished. Where professionals aren't made to feel like liabilities for being human. Where rest, responsibility, and purpose can coexist.

Because the price of being priceless in someone else's system is too high. And I'm done paying it.