Hi there,
Law school cost me about $150,000.
And even when practicing law was hard, when I was buried under billable hours or wondering if I’d made the right career choice, I never questioned that it was worth it. Because even if all I got out of law school was my friend
Alex Fisher, it would have been money well spent.
Alex sat next to me in Torts class during my first semester. In law school, professors can “cold call” you at any moment, and you’re expected to have the perfect answer. When my name was called for the very first time, I froze.
Then Alex, who I barely knew, discreetly pointed to a paragraph in my open textbook, the exact answer I needed. That small act of kindness was the start of one of my most wonderful friendships.
During our second and third years, Alex and I (and our dogs) lived together. We shared late-night study sessions, tears, and laughter. She made sure my dog and I hid under the stairs during every tornado
warning, and I made sure she packed a proper lunch, even if I had to pack it for her. We held each other up through heartbreak, burnout, and finals.
But the most important thing Alex ever taught me was that I mattered more than other people’s expectations of me.
During law school, everyone was obsessed with writing and editing for a legal journal. Supposedly, it was the golden ticket to a coveted judicial clerkship and a “successful” legal career. So, I entered the competition, made it onto a journal… and hated it. My stomach was in knots every day.
Everyone told me quitting would be a catastrophic mistake, everyone except Alex. She reminded me it didn’t matter what people thought, and that I needed to take care of myself.
So I quit. I kept my sanity, and I still built a career I loved.
That’s what this week’s Tuesday Triage is about—the myth of obligation.
A listener named Lola from Michigan wrote in to ask:“If I’m named Executor, can I say no?”
It’s a great question, because a lot of people assume that if their name appears in a Will, they’re legally stuck with the job. They’re not.
Serving as Executor is a choice, not a sentence. You can decline and someone else will step in. Every state has a legal “priority list” that determines who gets the next call. It starts with a backup named in the Will, then usually moves to the surviving spouse or other beneficiaries, then to heirs, creditors, and finally, if no one steps forward, a county or state public administrator.
That means if you know the estate will be a mess—missing records, family tension, outdated documents—you can (and sometimes should) say no.
The important thing is how you do it. Have a conversation. Be honest about what you’d need in order to serve well: organization, cooperation, or professional help. Saying no isn’t shirking responsibility; it’s acknowledging when the conditions for success don’t exist.
Because sometimes what you’ve been told you must do isn’t mandatory at all.