Organic Breakup
The Liver Between Us
The world is full of bad actors. Not thespians — although there are some bad ones out there — but people who operate under false pretenses. To protect ourselves, we execute contracts that basically say, "I kinda trust you to do what you said you'd do, but not really." Unfortunately, sometimes legal action is required to force compliance.
And sometimes the bad actor is your spouse.
Last month a South Korean man sued his wife for "malicious abandonment" because she refused to donate her liver to him. Diagnosed with primary biliary cirrhosis — a rare liver disease requiring a transplant — the husband assumed his 95%-match wife of three years and mother of his two toddlers would honor their marriage contract and save his life.
But she was like, "Yeah...No!"
So much for "in sickness and in health."
When doctors asked why she didn't want to go under the knife, the wife claimed she had a pathological fear of needles. As understandable as that is, the man was still shocked. It's not like he wanted to eat her liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti. He just wasn't ready to honor the "til death do us part" clause.
Fortunately, another donor was identified and the man survived — but his trust in his wife didn't. After learning she'd previously had surgery for appendicitis, he filed for divorce claiming she ignored her spousal duties during his time of need.
Apparently, some people expect “for better or worse” to come with an organ donor rider.
Performance as Obligation
You ever notice how some people don’t ask for support? They invoice it instead.
The husband in the story above didn’t ask his wife if she was willing. He assumed she was obligated.
In his mind, devotion came with deliverables. Marriage wasn’t a relationship — it was a service agreement. Her body was treated like a shared asset on the balance sheet.
Somewhere along the way, commitment got confused with compliance. Support got mistaken for sacrifice. Partnership quietly turned into a debt contract.
Oddly enough, this happens at work all the time, albeit not in the form of an organ request.
We treat dedication like a blank check, and loyalty becomes currency.
We assume availability instead of confirming consent, and sacrifice becomes expectation.
We confuse being “all in” with being always on, and boundaries get reframed as betrayal.
Performance as obligation is the belief that if someone is on the team, they owe you whatever the moment requires — late nights, emotional labor, personal sacrifice, quiet burnout wrapped in gratitude. And that compromises psychological safety.
It sounds like:
“That’s just part of the job.”
“We all have to make sacrifices.”
“This is what being a team player looks like.”
Psychological safety doesn’t grow in environments where people feel indebted for belonging. It grows where people are allowed to have limits.
Where saying “I can’t” isn’t interpreted as “I don’t care.”
Where commitment is offered — not extracted.
The healthiest teams don’t run on unspoken contracts. They run on clarity. On choice. On mutual respect. They understand that trust isn’t proven through exhaustion, and loyalty isn’t measured by how much someone is willing to give up.
Because when obligation becomes the currency of performance, relationships stop being partnerships and start feeling like invoices.
And nobody does their best work when they feel like they’re always behind on a debt they never agreed to take on.
So the next time work starts to feel like a debt you never agreed to take on, ask yourself — Am I being invited into commitment… or conscripted into obligation?
Question of the Week
Where in your work life are you quietly paying emotional invoices you never agreed to sign?
