Let the Lazy Lump learn
Journal entry- cleaned up by chat gpt
We’re not here to raise adults.
For far too long, many of us—especially those wired to care, fix, and hold things together—have taken on roles we were never meant to play: the responsible one, the planner, the peacekeeper, the over-functioning friend or sibling. We overcompensate while others under-deliver. And it’s exhausting.
This is about letting go of that responsibility. About watching people fall—and letting them. About choosing ourselves instead of constantly saving others from themselves.
There’s someone I know—let’s call her Lazy Lump.
She finally got a job after years. Not because she didn’t have the opportunity. But because she chose not to. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was fear, maybe it was entitlement. I don’t know anymore. But what I do know is this: now that she’s employed, she acts like she’s running the goddamn country.
Suddenly, her job consumes her entire life. She has no time, no energy, no bandwidth for anything else. The rest of her responsibilities? Left hanging. Everyone else is expected to scramble around her, cover for her, clean up the mess. And once again—others are picking up the pieces.
But here’s what really burns:
She can plan. She can take responsibility. She just doesn’t want to.
“Oh, but I don’t like getting up early,” she says.
Guess what? No one does.
But we do it anyway. You know why?
Because it’s called being an adult.
Being tired isn’t an excuse to dump your life on others. And acting like you deserve special treatment because you’re “finally” doing the bare minimum? That’s not growth. That’s manipulation.
At one point, I thought they (she and others like her) just didn’t know better.
So I tried teaching them. Guiding them. Being patient.
But I’ve learned something:
They are not children.
They know exactly what they’re doing.
They just don’t want to do the work.
They expect you to.
And the truth is: I’ve enabled that.
By constantly doing their share.
By believing it was my job to fix them.
By mistaking their unwillingness for inability.
But not anymore.
Lesson Learned:
It is not our job to raise grown people.
You don’t teach responsibility by carrying someone else’s load—you teach it by letting them carry their own.
If they struggle? That’s part of the process.
If they complain? That’s fine. You can hold space—if you have the time and energy.
But you don’t owe them your capacity.
You don’t owe them your emotional labor.
You don’t owe them the life you’ve worked hard to create for yourself.
Let them learn through effort—not through your sacrifice.
Sometimes the kindest, most loving thing you can do is step away.
Let the Lazy Lump learn.