At what point does kindness become too much to sustain?
That’s a question facing a long-time reader we’re calling Elvis.
For more than 50 years, Elvis has stayed in touch with a woman he met while serving in the military overseas. They were briefly romantic, but their relationship quickly became a long-distance friendship sustained mostly by monthly phone calls.
Elvis writes that the woman has endured a lifetime of hardship. She has shared those hardships with him for decades. She tells Elvis he is her only friend.
Elvis has tried to be supportive. He helped her navigate the immigration process after she moved to the United States. But the calls, he says, have always been emotionally draining, and lately have become more difficult, partly because his hearing is not what it once was, and he finds it harder to understand her. Their most recent conversation left him exhausted.
He worries that ending contact would devastate her. But he wonders whether continuing the relationship indefinitely—when every conversation leaves him distressed—is the right thing to do.
Longstanding relationships often carry a sense of moral obligation. When we’ve been present for someone through difficult times, it can feel wrong to step back later, especially if that person appears to depend on us. Loyalty and compassion matter.
But so do limits.
Doing the right thing does not require someone to endure endless emotional strain. Elvis has a responsibility for his own well-being. Since helping his friend causes persistent distress, it’s reasonable for him to reconsider if or how he offers help.
But Elvis does not need to limit himself to either continuing the relationship exactly as it was or to abruptly cut off contact.
Perhaps Elvis can try to reshape the relationship in ways that make it sustainable. He might shorten conversations, speak less frequently, or be candid with her that the long phone calls have become tiring and difficult because of his hearing problems. He can be clear but kind in trying to transform their relationship.
He might also encourage his friend to reach out to others. Community groups, neighbors or local activities might offer more support than any one person can be expected to provide.
Continuing a relationship while quietly resenting it rarely helps either party. Resentment tends to erode goodwill and makes conversations feel like obligations rather than acts of kindness.
Elvis has already demonstrated remarkable generosity. Maintaining contact with someone for more than six decades — long after the original circumstances of the relationship changed — is no small thing.
Adjusting the terms of that relationship now would not erase the care he has shown. Instead, it may allow him to remain present in a way that respects both his friend and himself.
Recognizing our own limits can be as much of a virtue as compassion for someone else.
The right thing may lie somewhere between abandoning his friend and sacrificing his own peace of mind forever. Finding a place where kindness and self-care can coexist is not a failure. It just might allow Elvis to continue to be the generous person he has shown himself to be.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.
Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.
(c) 2026 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.
