I grew up in a home where helping others was not something we debated, it was a way of living. Charity was not a separate act of virtue, it was woven into everyday life. If someone needed support, you offered it. If you had a little more, you shared it.

But we were not especially well off. At times, the generosity felt like it stretched us thinner than was comfortable. I sometimes wondered why my parents went out of their way when they had their own responsibilities to manage. It felt, in moments, like too much.

Then as a teenager I discovered Ayn Rand. Her writing was sharp, uncompromising, and at that time almost intoxicating. She dismissed altruism as self-sacrifice and celebrated rational self-interest as a moral compass. To live for yourself without apology, to free yourself from guilt, to measure your choices by reason felt bold, even liberating, compared to the unspoken duty of “always give” that I had grown up with. No wonder it resonated.

For a long time I wondered if I was not altruistic at all. I liked the objectivity that Rand brought into the conversation. I liked the idea that you should not hand over your agency under the weight of expectation or tradition. That you should examine every act and ask: does this reflect my values, or am I only doing it because someone else says I must?

It took me time to see that what my parents did was not blind duty either. They gave because it made them happy. They stretched themselves because that generosity was part of their value system. What felt excessive to me as a child was, to them, an expression of integrity.

And perhaps that is what I have carried forward in my own way. I believe in giving back to the world. Not out of obligation, but because it feels true to who I am. Sometimes that means contributing time, sometimes it means lending my skills or energy, sometimes it is as simple as choosing to act with care toward the environment or community around me. None of it feels like sacrifice, rather it feels like alignment.

So when people ask me how I can be a fan of Rand and still care so much about giving, I start to wonder: what if the answer is simpler than the debate? What if what I call altruism is really just one of my values?

I give because it feels right to me. Because it reflects the kind of world I want to be part of. Rand would say that acting on your own chosen values is not altruism in the sacrificial sense. It is integrity. And maybe that is where I find my peace between the two.

So what if altruism is not always about losing yourself for others? What if it can simply be about living your own values. I do not know if that makes me altruistic in the way the word is usually defined. But I know it makes me true to myself. And perhaps that is enough.