I wanted to write a post about comparing struggles, and how people disregard the pains of others because it’s much less than another. As I thought more about, my thoughts began to sound quite familiar to me; I had written something very close to what I was thinking about. So I searched my old posts and found it. It’s my story, so I’ll share it again.
When someone walks up to you to share their challenges, if you have nothing uplifting to say, just be silent. But never ever compare their pain to another . . . never!
The drive from the hospital was better this time. The potholes on the road didn’t worsen my discomfort, unlike the last time, when every bump was a bullet through my spine. I knew I had a fresh cut, but that was all there was to it. I starred out the window looking towards the unknown that was not more than fifteen minutes away: life at home with two kids. As Boo of life reversed into our assigned parking bay, I turned to look at the two human beings in the back seat, breathed a sigh of whatever-it-was and got out of the car. The climb up six flights of stairs wasn’t as difficult as the first time I had a C-section; it didn’t feel like a climb up Mount Everest, it felt only like Kilimanjaro, and I was grateful for every little victory. As we stepped inside, Drama Queen began…
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