When Being Good Is Hard Really Costs
Listen, I’m not proud of everything. But here’s what I learned: choosing to be good ain’t just about saying “no.” It’s about what you have to let go of, every single damn day. And it costs more than you think.
I traded the corner for a classroom. The easy money? Gone. The brothers who’d got my back through every scrape? They stopped calling. You think it’s just about the cash? Nah. It’s about the identity. For years, I was the guy who could handle anything. Being good meant becoming someone I didn’t know. I gave up the certainty of the street for the terrifying uncertainty of being a dad, a husband, a man who shows up clean.
What did I gain? My daughter’s first day of school without me in cuffs. My wife looking at me like I’m worth something. The quiet pride when a kid I mentor says, “Mr. Meyer, I almost did it.” I got my own peace. Not the loud, flashy kind—just the deep, steady hum of knowing I’m not hurting anyone else.
But the cost? It’s in the small things. That time I turned down a quick score to pick up my son from soccer, and he asked why I wasn’t “cool” like the other dads. The way my old crew’s eyes narrowed when they saw me at the community center. The nights I miss the old rhythm, the easy answers. It’s lonely sometimes. You’re not just changing your life—you’re changing who you are for people who don’t get it.
Was it worth it? Hell yes. But don’t think it’s free. The cost isn’t just what you lose—it’s the daily choice to walk away from what felt like home. You’re not too far gone. But you gotta be ready to pay the price.
— Francisco Meyer, walking a different path