I’ve been told I shouldn’t feel sad. This was in reference to my postpartum depression. Don’t be sad!
Instead, I should be happy that I have a healthy baby, because my family knows someone whose baby was just born and is now in the NICU, needing surgery. Since I don’t have to experience that kind of fear and heartbreak, I’m reminded that I shouldn’t be sad about what I’m going through.
I didn’t say anything at the time. I just sat there and took it in.
But later, I couldn’t stop thinking about how incredibly painful it is to feel like your emotions need to be justified by someone else’s suffering.
It feels like everything has become a Trauma Olympics. Someone else has it worse, so why are you complaining? Someone else is hurting more, so what right do you have to be upset?
I’m tired of feeling like I have to apologize for my feelings.
I can be incredibly grateful that my baby is healthy and still feel sad. I can feel blessed and overwhelmed. I can be happy and anxious. I can love my baby more than anything in this world and still struggle with everything I’m feeling.
Those things don’t cancel each other out.
My pain, frustration, anger, and anxiety don’t become less real just because someone else is experiencing something worse. Pain isn’t a competition. There is no ranking system that determines whose feelings are valid and whose aren’t.
And honestly, being told that I shouldn’t feel the way I feel doesn’t make those emotions disappear. It just makes me feel like I have to hide them.
Like I’m not allowed to admit that I’m struggling.
Like I should feel guilty for having a hard time when, from the outside, everything looks okay.
That’s part of why I keep writing this blog.
Because maybe someone else is feeling this too.
Maybe someone else has been told to be grateful when what they really needed was someone to say, “I know you’re grateful. You’re still allowed to hurt.”
Maybe someone else is sitting quietly, swallowing their feelings because they’re afraid someone will remind them that someone else has it worse.
I don’t want to swallow mine anymore.
I’m grateful for my baby. I know how incredibly fortunate I am.
And I’m still allowed to have hard days.
I’m still allowed to be sad.
I’m still allowed to be angry, frustrated, anxious, overwhelmed, or confused.
I don’t need to prove that my pain is worse than someone else’s before I’m allowed to feel it.
My feelings don’t need permission to exist.
