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I’ve had trouble sleeping since February when we were in the hospital with dad.

I get maybe six hours on a good night, closer to five most nights. (Proof from my newsletter on March 10th for ya’ll new readers).

I get up early, do my workouts, have my smoothie, bang through my day, do my shows, stay up writing or watching something stupid while writing, and attempt yet again to force myself to sleep at a reasonable time.

I’m well aware this is not sustainable, but also I plan to make up for it napping poolside in the afternoons throughout the summer. That’s a thing, right?

When I go to lay down, I often put on some calming guided sleep meditation on YouTube, phone tucked half way under the pillow, and allow whatever Australian dude’s voice that is to guide me into Neverland…

Last night was not a guided meditation night. Not right away at least.

I pulled up YouTube with full intentions to find my trusted Aussie. Had a perfectly good video queued up. Was approximately forty-five seconds from being lullabied.

But then the algorithm, in its infinite wisdom (and ultimate betrayal), served me up a Piers Morgan interview with one of the most notorious juvenile psychopaths in American history. A guy who murdered his little sister when he was thirteen years old.

I watched almost the whole thing.

What got me hooked in wasn't the idea of the interview itself. It was the mom.

Still visiting him in prison. Still standing by him. Citing — and I am not making this up — “unconditional love.”

And something in my half-asleep brain just went: “Bitch, HAVE CONDITIONS!”

Not every relationship deserves the "unconditional" label. Some relationships need terms. Fine print. An entire addendum. Conditions are not a character flaw — sometimes they're the only sane response to an insane situation.

Which got me thinking about all the ways we weaponize "unconditional love" to justify tolerating things we absolutely should not tolerate.

Please don’t read this before bed. :)

The Hustle

As most of you know, my upcoming special is called unConditional. A title that came to me after losing dad and reflecting on the types of love I’ve experienced in my 41 years.

Here's the thing about "unconditional love" — it's been romanticized to the point of being genuinely dangerous.

We've collectively decided that the highest form of love is love with no limits, no requirements, no accountability attached. That if you love someone "conditionally" you're somehow doing it wrong. That real love means accepting everything, excusing everything, absorbing everything.

But conditions aren't the opposite of love. They're the architecture of it.

Think about it. Your best relationships, the ones that actually work, have conditions baked in — Honesty. Respect. Showing up. Definitely not murdering anyone. These are conditions. We just don't call them that because it sounds unromantic.

The problem is we've confused "unconditional love" with "unconditional access." Two very different things.

You can love someone deeply and completely while still having standards for how they treat you. You can care about someone's wellbeing while refusing to stand by their chaos. You can hold space for someone's humanity without holding the door open for their worst behavior to impact your life.

Conditions in relationships aren't ultimatums. They're self-respect in a properly labeled manila folder. (BTW I did find out those folders are actually from Manila, Philippines. Always wondered. Maybe a YouTube doc for 11pm tonight).

In business this is even more obvious. You don't enter partnerships without terms. You don't sign contracts without fine print. Nobody hands over a check and says "do whatever you want with this, I trust you unconditionally." That's not love, that's a lawsuit lurking around every corner.

So why do we accept less from our personal relationships than we do from our professional ones?

HAVE CONDITIONS. Enthusiastically. Unapologetically.

The right people will meet them.

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The Chill

So where does this unconditional love stuff actually belong?

I've been thinking about this since my half-asleep psychopath spiral, and honestly there are places where it's not only appropriate but necessary.

Kids. Genuinely. Children need to know they are loved without an asterisk. That your love for them isn't contingent on their grades or their choices or whether they're easy to deal with that day. That's the one place unconditional love does exactly what it promises.

Grief. You don't put conditions on missing someone. You don't tell yourself things like "I'll only grieve dad on the days I'm emotionally prepared for it." Grief shows up how it shows up and you just let it. That's unconditional by necessity.

Creativity. You have to love the process of making things without requiring it to always be good, always land, always make sense. Create without expectations. The unconditional commitment to showing up and creating even when it's terrible — that's what eventually produces something worth watching. That’s the real shit.

But people who've demonstrated they'll weaponize your softness? People who confuse your kindness for open-forum fuckery? People who destroy a family and then expect mom to show up on visiting day?

Conditions. Many of them. Signed. Initialed. Laminated.

The title of my next special is unConditional. Which I've always said is about love in all its complicated forms — the love that holds and the love that has to let go.

Turns out, sometimes the most loving thing you can do is have terms.

Read them carefully.

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Keep Your Cool

Upcoming Shows

Drop-in’s before tour drops.

Thursday July 9th — Late Night at Lincoln Lodge 9pm

Saturday July 11th — Beverly Arts Center — peep my IG stories for details — we will be feeding the homeless that day for the annual Food From Above BBQ. I’ll also share details of how to support that organization on IG

Tuesday July 14th — Second City Chicago special guest

Love you all and cheers to the hustle + chill. We term our conditions, and condition our terms.

xx NPH