It’s become strangely difficult to go through something these days.
Not because pain is new or because people have stopped hurting, but because somewhere along the way, we started doing it alone.
Society has shifted into this hyper-individualistic rhythm, where everyone is so focused on respecting each other’s space that we’ve forgotten what genuine care feels like. We’ve convinced ourselves that caring from afar is the same as showing up. That giving someone space automatically means we’re being considerate.
And yes — sometimes, people truly do need solitude to process what they’re feeling. Some prefer to handle things quietly, in their own way. But there’s a difference between giving someone space and completely stepping out of their orbit. There’s a difference between saying nothing and saying, “Hey, I hope you’re hanging in there.”
Small gestures matter more than we think. A simple message. A small check-in. A few words that say, "I see you". Because when you’re going through something heavy, even if you don’t want to talk about it, even if you think you’d rather deal with it alone, there’s still a small, aching part of you that just wants to know you’re not forgotten.
I’ve been there — waiting for messages that never came, realizing that silence can be the loudest kind of pain. At the time, it felt like no one cared. It hurt deeply. But now I understand that most of the time, people do care — they just don’t know how to say it.
Some freeze up because they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing.
Some assume you’re strong enough to handle it on your own.
And some just don’t understand the gravity of what you’re carrying.
But to the ones who hesitate — reach out anyway. Don’t overthink it. Don’t wait for the person to resurface and tell you they’ve made it through. The people who seem the strongest are often the ones who have learned how to survive in silence. They’ve had to be their own support system for so long that they rarely reach out. Those are the ones who need your kindness the most.
Because at some point, we all go through something — whether we show it or not.
We’ve learned how to suffer quietly, how to conceal our pain so we don’t burden others or appear weak. But that concealment creates an illusion: that everyone else is fine, that we’re the only ones falling apart. And that illusion can make our pain feel even lonelier.
The truth is, you’re not the only one.
Everyone — every single person — faces their own version of pain. It might not look the same. It might not be as visible. But struggle is part of the human experience. So if you’re going through something right now, know this: there are others walking through their own storms, quietly, beside you. You’re not alone, even if it feels that way.
Sometimes, compassion doesn’t need a perfect script. It just needs presence.
A text. A call. A moment of “I thought of you today”.
Because caring from afar might feel safe — but caring out loud is what heals.