I’m riding my bike home from work. The evening is beautiful, and I’m telling myself to enjoy the summer warmth and appreciate the sun magically transforming the trees arching over the bike trail into an emerald cave. But I’m distracted by how I feel, which is swollen with sadness. I want to release this feeling, get it up and out, but the tears won’t come. It’s uncomfortable, like when you’re all set to sneeze but don’t.

I know why I’m sad. Today at work, a treat was offered to me, then taken away, and I’m disappointed.

As adults we’ve become quite adept at not getting what we want. We’ve had to as a survival mechanism. But it hurts nonetheless. I have new compassion for all of those times I deny my kids’ requests and they respond as if it’s the end of the world. Unfortunately, I’m now reminded, that’s exactly what it can feel like no matter how old you are.