7. Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about

My wife belongs to a group of friends that formed to support our mutual friend when her husband died suddenly of an enlarged heart episode at age 51.  These women from our small church at the time have been friends for more than 20 years.  There are five families represented by these ladies, and from the outside they look like great friends enjoying life and each other, and they are.  Yet every single one of them, including my wife, has had tragedy and sorrow blow through their lives. One inexplicably lost her daughter to brain cancer at age 31, leaving a 5-year old granddaughter at the time, whom she and her husband are now raising.  Another has a husband diagnosed a few years ago with leukemia who's still battling.   Amongst the group, there's been marital strife, adult kids struggling with their own marriages and families, deep depression, a daughter with chronic undiagnosed physical illness, mental illness, estrangement at times from adult kids, difficult relationships with aging parents, unemployment, their own physical health struggles.  Heavy, painful, real life shit.  And yet, I think the shared struggle of life's storms is something that has built an even deeper bond between these friends, and makes the sweet times they do enjoy even sweeter.  It's legit joy when they're together. If you saw them in the café over dinner laughing and carrying on, you'd think it was all wine and roses.  It’s Both And.  Life is brutiful. 

Our dear friends.  Women who have experienced both the beauty and brutality of life.

You know those people at work (or on your social feed) that look like they have it all together?   Their career is on the upward trajectory, they look all put together, and communicate so effectively?   I guarantee they have their own stories that could break your heart.  Brene Brown says "everyone has a story that will bring you to your knees." 

I belong to a guys group that's been walking together in life for about 10 years now.  They're all quality, stand-up guys who are loving husbands and fathers and have had successful careers in their chosen fields.  We meet every Friday morning to share life, do a book study, and encourage each other in our faith and life's journey.   Every single one of them has had personal pain- pain in family relationships, miscarriages for kids, kids struggling, layoffs at work, the list goes on. 

So we're all in this together.  None of us has it all together.  We all get beat up by the storms of life.  Different storms for different folks, but storms none the less.   Everyone suffers- it’s all part of the human experience in this world.

You're not alone

It helps to know I'm not alone in my own struggles.  When I was laid off from Microsoft in 2019, it was a big blow.   I felt like I was the left behind one - all the frequent big tech layoffs that we've seen in the last few years hadn't hit in full stride yet.  Seeing people's LinkedIn celebratory promotion posts stung.   Now it's 2025, and there's been thousands of layoffs in big tech in the last few years, and there's so many more vulnerable posts from people sharing just how much it sucks to lose your job, and being open about asking for help.  Because I've been through that, it gives me more empathy, but also there's a part of me that feels a level of "ah, I'm not alone anymore."

Reminds me of when my wife and I led marriage enrichment small groups.  Whenever we’d share about issues in our marriage and were vulnerable about our struggles, people would always breathe deeply, and say “oh, you deal with that too!?!?  I thought we were the only ones!”  It always made them feel better.   It's hard to be alone in your struggle.  Isolation can bring feelings of shame.  Being human means we’ll have suffering.  That’s why we need each other- to journey together, to help each other.   

Everyone struggles with insecurity, and everyone has battles to fight.  Everyone.  Yes, they look and may act like they have it all together, but pain and suffering is the great equalizer.  Remembering this can give us just a bit more compassion for others.  If someone I run across is having a bad day and acting like it, I don’t know what’s going on in their lives that’s causing them to be a butt.   Maybe they’re just a butt, but maybe they’re fighting an unseen battle and just trying to make it through the day.  Years ago, I read Stephen Covey's book "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" where he tells the story about an incident on a subway with a Dad and his kids.  

I was riding a subway on Sunday morning in New York. People were sitting quietly, reading papers, or resting with eyes closed. It was a peaceful scene. Then a man and his children entered the subway car. The man sat next to me and closed his eyes, apparently oblivious to his children, who were yelling, throwing things, even grabbing people’s papers.

I couldn’t believe he could be so insensitive. Eventually, with what I felt was unusual patience, I turned and said, “Sir, your children are disturbing people. I wonder if you couldn’t control them a little more?”

The man lifted his gaze as if he saw the situation for the first time. “Oh, you’re right,” he said softly, “I guess I should do something about it. We just came from the hospital where their mother died about an hour ago. I don’t know what to think, and I guess they don’t know how to handle it either.”

Suddenly, I saw things differently. And because I saw differently, I felt differently. I behaved differently. My irritation vanished. I didn’t have to worry about controlling my attitude or my behavior. My heart filled with compassion. “Your wife just died? Oh, I’m so sorry. Can you tell me about it? What can I do to help?” Everything changed in an instant.

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.  So let's be kind to each other.  Have patience.  Be inquisitive.  Realize they're human like you, not perfect.  And know that you're not alone.  

Is anybody listening? 

As I was sharing the draft of this post, a friend reminded me of a really important angle to this whole topic- how we respond to someone’s story of pain.  If and when someone we know is vulnerable and brave enough to share their story with us, it’s a fragile, sacred moment.  A fork in the road.  How we respond can lead to validation and healing, or it can lead to feelings of isolation and more pain.  And many times hurtful responses are unintentional, but sting none the less. 

I will say I find it hard to know how to respond sometimes when someone I know and care about shares something painful with me.  I want to be helpful and comforting, but it’s also uncomfortable to just sit with that story, especially if I haven’t known that specific pain in my own life.   Here’s what I’ve learned about what’s helpful and not helpful from my own experience, and that of my wife’s and other friends:

Listen and Validate.  This is helpful.  Something akin to “man, that’s tough.  I’m sorry.  Tell me more about…”   When we really listen and show that we care, that allows the person to open up and feel safe sharing the pain, which can be really validating and encouraging.  My wife does this for me all the time.  

Invalidate and judge.  Not so helpful.  Not listening well by not asking more questions or changing the subject shows we don’t care enough in that moment to lean in and sit in the pain with you.  Responding with “it’s not that big a deal” or “you should pray about it more” – not helpful.   When you’re vulnerable and get this reply, it can cause you to go into your isolating turtle shell swearing never to venture out again.   And even if that particular issue isn’t something that would be so hard for me, the fact is- it’s hard for you, and that’s enough to honor the moment with respect.  We have pain in our own lives that may not be as painful to someone else.  We all have our own crosses to bear.   

Comparison Suffering.  We’ve all done this before.  Someone starts in on their story of woe, and we jump right in with our own similar story.  I hear this all the time, and know I’m guilty as well.  It can be an irresistible urge to tell our own stories, but it’s also invalidating to our friend that started in.  These types of conversations are a delicate dance and depending on the situation, the most helpful move may be to not share our story at all.  If they walk away feeling heard, that could be the best thing we could have done for them.  My favorite comedian Brian Regan did a 1-minute bit that beautifully and hilariously illustrates this with his wisdom teeth story.  Check it out.   This also totally applies outside of suffering stories.  More broadly, I'd call it Comparison Stories.  Most people are intuitive.  They can tell if you’re really engaged and listening, or just waiting for them to finish so you can talk. 

This is tough, messy stuff.  Ultimately, I want to remember that whomever I’m with is struggling in unseen ways- to be sensitive to that and listen well.