Stop Telling Me That Other People Have it Worse

I shaved my head the other night. I’m talking, all the hair off my head- no hesitations and no regrets. Well, technically my mum shaved all the hair off my head while I stood as still as I could. My sister said I would look like The Rock but I said I would look like Ayanna Pressley. Turns out, I look the most like Lupita Nyong’o. Ten minutes after the big moment I sent a picture of my newly changed appearance to some friends. All of them told me I was beautiful and they loved it and then Michelle told me I looked free.

Sometimes I think I am shedding the old me and moving into this new self. But the more I grow the more I think I am returning back to the truest form of who I am. I am stripping back all the layers that weigh me down and until I am left with myself. And I am learning to love her- myself, that is. I am learning to let go of everything that is not me. And, by extension, everything that is not human. Because, at the end of the day, that is what I am- human. Unique in my own right, but human all the same.

So I am learning to tap into myself and my own humanity. Part of the agreement I made with myself when I agreed to acknowledge humanity was to allow for emotions. I am learning to feel again and allowing others to do the same. It is hard. But it is worth it. Even in the midst of this pandemic, my feelings bring me back to my humanity. And now that I am learning to love myself and see my humanity, I am learning to be kinder. Don’t get me wrong, my kindness is not to be confused with passivity, civility, or perfection of grace. But my kindness is definitely more aware of its power. And right now, I think one of the kindest things we can do, for ourselves and others, is to allow for space to feel our emotions fully.

My entire life I have heard other people point me towards those in situations more challenging than mine and tell me that I could have it worse. For a while I bought into what they told me and would be quiet about the reality of how I was feeling or what I was dealing with. I now realize that the severity of another’s trouble does not diminish mine. Perspective is great to have, but not at the cost of denying your reality or emotions. So, I did what I do well, and I wrote a poem.

~When They Tell Me I Could Have it Worse~

They are not wrong.

But still, my mountian does not get smaller

when you point me to see higher peaks.

You do not walk this path with me

you do not reside in my footfalls.

This mountain is mine to hike-

it would be best to remember that

before you ask me to deny my emotions

in exchange for feelings much tamer than these.

So, as of a bit ago, I have stopped pointing people to situations that I perceive as worse than their reality and weaponizing shame to tell them to feel *less. I am working to understand the difference between complaining and stating how one feels. I am working on holding space for those around me to feel how they feel and be okay in that. My mountain is mine to hike. They have theirs to climb up. The magnitude of their trouble does not make mine feel smaller for me to face. And vice versa. We can all feel the full extent of our emotions and the world will still keep going. We can allow for others to experience their humanity without losing our own.

We are in a pandemic right now. All of us facing a different kind of hard. All of us facing hardship. We all have lost something, if not someone. We have all seen little slivers of grace and unexpected joys. We are all living in extreme awareness of our mortality and complexity of humans. We are in a state of *being that some have never had to contemplate before. And others know nothing of a life lived differently. Let people feel. Everything.

Let yourself feel everything.

Let yourself just *be

stripped

natural

whole

complex

human

alive

With kindness,

-K