A Relationship is a Gamble, not an Investment
Life sometimes presents us with strange choices. We might find ourselves deciding whether to act solely out of self-interest or to risk something dear for someone else’s sake. It’s the choice between leaving a game while we’re ahead or choosing to stay a little longer, braving the unknown to see how things might unfold. It’s the choice between pulling away from a friend or family member who seems to offer little immediate value and, instead, sticking by them through their darkest times, even if it costs us a measure of peace or personal growth. Prioritising oneself certainly has its merits, and rational calculation often seems the straightest path to a life of security and success. But I’ve learned, time and again, that my richest rewards—emotional and even financial—have come from taking a risk on another person. It could be a romantic partner, a family member with whom relations have been strained, or a friend whose struggles threaten to spill into your own life.
To a person with a calculating mind, it might seem “practical” to cut people loose the instant they no longer bring value, or when keeping them close feels like a net loss. This approach may seem selfish, but over time, it is hardly self-serving. After all, it is in life’s roughest patches that you come to know the people around you. You see, with clear eyes, who’s on your side. Some of those you thought would stand by you were merely basking in your success, feeding off your shine while your life was at its peak. Others stay close only for the benefits of your wealth, reputation, or influence, always hedging their bets in the hope that you might someday be useful to them. These are often the first to disappear when things take a turn for the worse. And some go further still, delighting in your downfall and picking at the remains when you’re too weakened to hold them at bay. Yet there are others who never made grand gestures, who never sought recognition but instead quietly come forward, offering support when it’s needed most. Strangers, sometimes mere background figures in your life, unexpectedly step forward to become mainstays through their kindness.
This pattern isn’t unique to you or me—it’s universal. People don’t expect others to save them or lift them out of darkness. Often, all they seek is someone willing to sit with them through it. The power of sticking around, of simply being there, is immense. Many of these people, written off by others, possess extraordinary potential: they’re intelligent, capable, and deeply kind. Even from a calculating point of view, to cut them out based solely on present value is, at best, shortsighted.
Then there’s the arrogance that often follows this utilitarian mindset. Those who think a life built on cold calculations will yield the best outcomes look down on anyone unwilling to “cut their losses.” They see the ones who persist—those still emotionally invested in relationships or systems—as foolish, as naïve. But time has shown that these so-called emotional fools, the ones who refuse to turn their backs on others, often find success in unexpected places. It’s often these very “fools” who generate wealth, and it’s they who share it most freely with those who stayed by their side.
These "emotional fools" recognize that life is not a ledger of gains and losses but a complex web of connections, each one building on the next. They understand that the person you help in their time of need may one day be the one to lift you up when you find yourself in a similar darkness. Relationships, built over time and hardship, become a kind of insurance against life’s uncertainties—a form of wealth no bank can hold. Those who cultivate this wealth know that loyalty and shared history are worth far more than the fleeting benefits of one-sided exchanges. They realise that, at the heart of a truly rich life, lies an interdependence that makes you stronger than the brazen independence of doing everything on your own.
More than wealth, the social currency we trade in is trust. Trust is the invisible force that keeps our systems from unravelling. It is trust that keeps us confident our laws will protect us and that law enforcement will uphold justice. It’s trust that lets us go to sleep at night believing our money will not be worthless come morning. We trust our governments and institutions to act in good faith, despite the times they might falter, and we trust in the loyalty of our life partners. Our children place their wholehearted trust in us. And we extend trust whenever we lend or borrow, counting on the other party’s commitment to repay. We trust the hands that built our homes, though we likely never met the labourers who laid each brick or assembled the beams. We trust, too, in the community we live among—that society at large will uphold unspoken rules of decency. Without this trust, our world would be a fractured and fearful place, each of us living in guarded isolation, fearing the very systems and people who surround us.
Trust, in the end, is what holds everything together—far more precious than gold, and often far more fragile. It builds reputation, and reputation, in turn, opens doors to life’s many opportunities and ventures. The more trust you earn, the more people want to align with you, work with you, and share in what you create. Companies that lose trust crumble swiftly, becoming irrelevant in the blink of an eye. The same is true for individuals.
We often believe that the quality of what we buy affects our well-being and, by extension, our character. But it also works the other way. The structural integrity of a home is only as sound as the integrity of those who built it. A life is not self-made; it is shaped by the hands and hearts of others. I owe who I am to my family, my friends, and the countless acquaintances who have gambled on me, just as I have gambled on them. When your family trusts you to be a good son, husband, or brother, when your employer trusts you to work with honesty, and when your neighbour sees you as someone worth having around, people want to enter into partnerships and relationships with you. Are you trustworthy? If the answer is yes, the world will reward you. If the answer is no, what value do you truly have?
What would the emotional fool say? Take a chance on someone, especially if they stood by you during your own turbulent times. Yes, it might cost you—time, peace of mind, or even money—to support a friend staring down bankruptcy or a family member battling depression. But life isn’t about winning the game and walking away with the biggest prize. It’s about earning trust that ensures you’re invited to keep playing, again and again. Each time you’re welcomed back to the table, you gain another chance to win. And whether you choose to stay or turn away, people don’t forget. How many people still want you at their table? What do you bring to it?
Image source: The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci.

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