Merit Badges
The Girl Scouts get it right.
They award merit badges for things that rarely make it onto a resume—like building a fire in the rain, identifying birdcalls, or learning how to comfort someone who’s afraid of the dark. The badges are sewn onto sashes and sleeves not to boast, but to quietly say: I did something hard. I tried something new. I showed up.
Last week, three friends reached out to say they’ve been reading these Tuesday stories. Their messages felt like handwritten notes slipped under a door—quiet, personal, and unexpectedly moving. They meant more than I think the senders realized.
I’d been wondering if it was time to stop writing these pieces about remarkable people. The silence around them had started to feel like an answer—no big reactions, no flood of engagement. Maybe, I thought, these stories just didn’t land.
But those notes reminded me: silence doesn’t mean indifference. Some stories matter most to the people who don’t say so—until one day, they do.
And it made me think: maybe grownups need merit badges too. Not for titles or accolades, but for the unseen work of holding things together, of showing up when it’s hard, of living with heart.
If I could hand out three this week, they’d go to the three friends who reminded me why telling these stories still matters.
1. The No Regrets Badge
For the one who’s been living through wave after wave of loss—a brother, a best friend, and now, the slow goodbye of a sister-in-law. She doesn’t run from grief. She walks through it, arms open, heart full, determined to love so completely there’s nothing left unsaid.
The badge shows an open heart stitched onto a pair of worn hiking boots. Because she keeps going, even when the terrain is steep.
2. The High Wire Act Badge
For the one caught in the beautiful, brutal tension between career and motherhood. Leading teams, raising babies, managing the chaos and the guilt and the quiet doubt that she’s letting one side down. She wants to be great at both—and keeps striving to be.
Her badge is a tightrope, stretched between two skyscrapers, with her walking the line—two babies on one hip, laptop on the other. Because while her heart lives at home, the world still expects her to carry it all. And every day, she does—with everything she has left.
3. The Cape-Under-the-Coat Badge
For the one who feels everything deeply and still keeps fighting—for her daughter, her business, her profession, her country, her planet. Rage-crying is her thing. So is rallying. She’s scrappy and tender, a walking contradiction of heartbreak and fire.
Her badge is a hidden cape peeking out from under a blazer. Because superheroes don’t always make a scene—but they’re always ready the moment they’re needed.
If we could see each other’s badges—the ones earned in solitude, in struggle, in quiet acts of perseverance—we might recognize that everyone is carrying something hard. And maybe then, we’d choose to meet the world with a little more compassion, and a lot more awe.
To those who reached out last week:
You earned these.
Wear them proudly.