If you're going to be privileged, at least be kind

Let me say the thing I've been chewing on for a while: privileged people can be exhausting. Not all of them, and not always — but enough of them, often enough, that it wears you down.

Here's the part that gets me. It's not the high expectations. High expectations are fine. I have high expectations. I think setting a high bar is fair, even good. The problem is the assumption that your expectations are the only ones in the room.

You think you're the busiest person in the conversation. Maybe you are. But so is the person on the other end. They have a calendar that's just as full, deadlines that are just as real, and a life that doesn't pause because you decided your time is more valuable than theirs.

You think you're the smartest person at the table. Maybe in your lane, you are. But nobody is the smartest at everything — and the people who act like they are tend to be the ones missing the most. Competence in one area is not a license to talk down to everyone in every other area.

That's the whole thing, really. Everybody's got expectations. Everybody's got time pressures. Everybody's juggling something you can't see. The mistake isn't having standards — it's forgetting that the person across from you is operating under the same gravity you are.

Kindness isn't a tax on your time. It's not a concession. It's the bare minimum the situation affords you, and frankly it's the one thing that makes all the high standards worth honoring instead of resenting.

Be demanding if you want. Be busy. Be brilliant. Just don't be a jerk about it. If you can afford the privilege, you can afford the grace.