Every day I think about it.
WHY is life hard on me and lenient on others?
I know comparison is the killer. But can you help it?
Even if you detox from social media, can you cut off from real people?
What do you do when you see them thriving,
Living a life you’ve always dreamt of?
Don’t tell me to buckle my arse up and work.
If we’re talking material things, sure, maybe effort pays.
But what if you’re comparing something intangible?
Family. Relationships. Love. Spirituality.
Mental peace. Contentment. Gratitude. Empathy.
How do you get better at these?
How do you get a better family? Can you?
Can you trade your parent for a better one?
Can you bargain your childhood joy for some unasked trauma?
Can you sell those years of cultural bondage for mere pieces of paper?
Can you buy mental peace in exchange for the years of abuse?
How do you feel when you see others having it all…
All without any trade,
All without any effort?
And despite your talents, your brilliance, your excellence
They, still, are living a life way better than you.
They don’t write.
They don’t code.
They don’t paint.
They don’t ode.
Meanwhile,
You struggle.
You carry loads.
You have worries.
You’ve grown old.
And you’re young?
But they are younger.
More youthful. More bold.
What do you have?
A pen?
A paper?
Some bedsheets to fold?
You can earn money
But how do you earn your long lost childhood?
How do you bring back those moments when you could’ve said,
“I don’t like the way you’re touching me”?
Did you take a stand?
Did you say no?
Or did you just sit there and wonder what’s happening?
Oh, I’m so sorry, love, if it ever happened to you.
I’ve suffered it too.
I, too, couldn’t speak up.
I, too, was afraid.
Can you change those moments by doing hard work and earning money?
Can you sit there and stop comparing your traumatic childhood
To the next door friend of yours?
She had it all
The parents, the love,
Polished shoes, a perfect lunchbox.
Why hasn’t life been easy on us?
Why was it easy for them?
They still live in harmony.
And we…
Despite wrapping ourselves tight in sheets at night to feel safe,
Despite hiding in the back of assembly with dirty uniform and unpolished shoes,
Despite doing chores like animals in a house where we don’t feel seen or heard
When does it get easier?
For me?
For you?
I wonder.
Thank you for giving me your precious time. If you’re still here, then please check out my novel. I just published its chapter 01. Much love and hugs!
This is too beautiful to have just two likes❤️😭 never stop writing please😭
Why is this so relatable?? I'm crying.