Don’t Be a Jerk About Participation Trophies

self insemination kit

Let’s set the scene: It’s early morning, and you’re buzzing with adrenaline. After countless hours of training, it’s finally time for your first half marathon. You grab your bib from the friendly volunteers and find a quiet spot to stretch while syncing your playlist. Nervous energy fills you—can you actually do this?

And then, you’re off! Gone are the days spent lounging on the couch, buried in your phone. You’re not exactly winning any sprinting awards, but this race isn’t merely about speed; it’s about setting a goal and seeing it through. Before you know it, you’re nearing the finish line. Runners have thinned out, and it’s just you and your determination. Who cares if everyone gets a medal? You can’t wait to post a selfie with yours on social media to show off your achievement.

With jelly-like legs and a heaving chest, you cross the finish line and look around, expecting to find a volunteer ready to hand out medals. Instead, you spot a cheerful woman in a bright shirt moving through the crowd, giving pats on the back and encouraging words. Wait, is that it? A mere “good job” after all that training? You feel a surge of frustration—after investing your time, effort, and money, you deserve more than just a half-hearted compliment.

Ah yes, the sting of not receiving a participation trophy as an adult. But here’s the twist: adults find ways to reward themselves too, just without the label. We indulge in wine, binge-watch Netflix, shop for new shoes, and even enjoy a little self-care. You know what’s the ultimate participation trophy? Sex.

This is why I revel in the reality of participation trophies. If I fail—which, let’s be honest, is often—the first place I’m heading is to the “trophy tent” for my consolation prize. Bring on the cookies and certificates, because a self-affirmation just doesn’t cut it. If it did, Facebook wouldn’t have a thumbs-up icon, boasting millions of users who crave validation.

I’m competitive, sure, but I refuse to rain on kids’ parades. Years ago, I volunteered to mentor a group of elementary school girls. Some were reluctant, others defiant, but each tried to contribute in their own unique way. We awarded badges for specific tasks, but at the end of the year, every girl received a personalized certificate and a small trinket. It was vital to acknowledge each girl’s efforts: “I see you.”

Walking through life alone is soul-crushing. The notion that anyone achieves success solo is a myth. Recognizing kids for participating doesn’t diminish their understanding of winning or losing; it nurtures resilience. They will face enough challenges as they grow up—life has a way of testing spirits.

Until adults drop their medals for coming in last, I’m here to spread participation trophies like confetti. You get a medal, and you get a medal! For every child putting in the effort instead of just focusing on the win, I see you. The rest of the adults? They just need to lighten up.

If you’d like to read more about related topics, check out this blog post on home insemination kits. And for authoritative information on artificial insemination, visit Make a Mom or explore this excellent resource on intrauterine insemination.