On the journey to adulthood, we often learn how to make “professional” promises to the world, yet we unknowingly become careless with those who love us most. There are promises that seem light when spoken, but their weight can press down on an entire lifetime.
Table of Contents
1. “I’ll be home soon” – A Seemingly Harmless Phrase
I am a young woman living far from home. The city taught me how to be busy, how to chase opportunities, and how to believe that everything can be rescheduled for later. Every time my mother called and asked, “When are you coming home?” I would always answer: “I’ll be home at the end of the month to stay with you for a few days.”
I said it with total sincerity. I wasn’t just saying it to get her off the phone. In that moment, I truly believed I would go. But when the end of the month arrived, I never showed up. It wasn’t because I loved her any less; it was simply that work kept pulling me away. I thought she was doing fine, and I believed that “next time would be okay.”
“We often break promises not out of heartlessness, but because of the illusion that we still have plenty of time.”
The word “soon” in the phrase “I’ll be home soon” feels as light as a breeze. It tricks us into thinking the future is long and that there are plenty of chances to make things right. But time does not operate according to our subjective feelings.
2. When a Promise Is a List of Priorities
A few months later, my mother fell ill. It wasn’t a sudden collapse, but a slow, draining exhaustion. Her dizzy spells became more frequent; she needed someone to lean on during doctor visits and someone to sit with her through lonely evenings.
Throughout that time, I wasn’t there. I was still caught up in meetings, diligently sending emails, and hitting sales targets. I constantly reassured myself that I was working hard for the future of the whole family. But amidst those shiny achievements, a vast emptiness began to take shape.
I realized that a promise isn’t just to reassure the listener in a single moment. A promise is, in fact, a list of priorities. When we make a promise, it means we choose to place that thing above everything else. If we don’t follow through, we are silently confirming that other things are more important than the person we just promised.
“The value of a promise doesn’t lie in the words spoken, but in whether or not we show up when it matters.”
The day I finally went home to visit, my mother was much thinner. She still smiled, still said, “I’m okay.” But I knew there were doctor appointments she had to attend alone, and pains she had suffered through in silence. The promise to be “home by the end of the month” that was postponed back then wasn’t just a rescheduled trip—it was a permanent loss of an opportunity to care for her.
3. Promises to Family
We are often terrified of breaking promises to our bosses, clients, or partners for fear of losing our reputation or career opportunities. Yet, we are incredibly lenient with the promises we make to our parents, simply because we believe they will always be patient and forgiving.
The truth is, parents can wait, but health and time cannot. I used to think that as long as I had love in my heart, it was enough—that as long as I was successful out there, it was enough. But love cannot be measured by the hidden thoughts in your head. It is defined by presence, by the times we return, and by the moments we dare to set aside the chaos to sit beside our loved ones.
“A promise to a stranger affects your reputation. A promise to your family affects your conscience.”
There are promises that can be compensated with money, and mistakes that can be fixed with an apology. But there are some promises that, if missed at the right time, you will never find a second chance to fulfill.
4. Maturity Is Knowing How to Weigh a Promise
I write these lines not to drown in guilt, but to remind myself that from now on, every promise must be spoken with mindfulness and responsibility. If you aren’t certain you can do it, don’t promise. If you have promised, you must arrange everything to make it right.
Now, when my mother asks, “When are you coming home?” I no longer answer out of habit. I open my schedule, look at my workload, and consider it carefully. And when I finally say, “I’ll be there,” I make sure I am standing on her front porch.
Because I have come to understand one thing deeply:
“A promise is not just a responsibility to the listener; it is a yardstick for your own character.”
Sometimes, the value of a person’s life doesn’t lie in their grand achievements out in society, but in how many promises they kept to the people who truly love them.
