For most of my life, I believed being impressive mattered more than being present.
Work was proof. Hours were evidence. Exhaustion meant I was doing something right. I measured value by output and worth by endurance.
And then something changed.
Love Forced Me to Make Room
When I met The Sister, I was working 112 hours a week.
There was no margin. No flexibility. No presence. I was always busy—and always unavailable.
But I was deeply in love with her. And for the first time, I wanted something that couldn't be scheduled around work. I wanted her time. Her attention. Her presence.
And I realized something uncofmortable:
if I wanted to receive presence, I had to offer it first.
So I slowed down.
Not because I had wisdom.
Not because I had balance figured out.
But because love required availability.
The Ripple I Didn't Expect
What started as making room for someone I loved didn't stop there.
That extra time didn't disappear—it went somewhere.
It went to my children.
I started using the time I reclaimed to be around them more. To do small things. Ordinary things. Things I had previously outsourced to exhaustion and absence.
And slowly, something became clear.
Being present felt better than being impressive ever had.
Presence Changed the Measurement
Impressive looks good from a distance.
Presence only matters up close.
Presence means listening without multitasking.
Showing up without announcing it.
Being available even when nothing exciting is happening.
I realized my children didn't need the version of me that worked endlessly to prove something.
They needed the version of me that stayed.
Eights Months Later
Nearly eight months have passed since I slowed down.
And even though the change started with chasing love, it didn't end there.
I still work less.
I'm still more available.
I'm still choosing presence—especially with my children.
What began as pursuit turned into alignment.
I didn't lose ambition.
I just stopped letting it steal everything else.
What I Learned Too Late—but Not Too Late
"Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain." — Psalm 127:1
That verse reminds me that effort alone doesn't build what matters.
Presence does.
Fatherhood didn't teach me this early. Love didn't either. But together, they finally slowed me down enough to notice.
Being impressive may earn attention from the world.
But being present is what actually builds a life worth standing inside.
And now that I've felt the difference, I'm not willing to go back.