In my time here, I’ve seen tragedy. I’ve felt sorrow. I’ve had days where I thought, “this is the worst day of my life,” and then I’ve had days that actually were the worst of my life.
The point is I’ve seen my fair share of darkness. I’ve known my share of hurt and loss. But how does that measure up to anyone else? It really doesn’t matter. It’s all relative. My tragedies are my own; they are part of my identity. That is all. They do not limit me. They empower me.
One of the things that bugs me most about people is when someone claims, “you don’t know what I’ve been through.” The statement is obvious at best, but the worst part about it is the person who makes this claim is isolating him or herself. Where there’s an opportunity to make an emotional connection with someone who steps out to empathize, the person who makes this claim is severing it before it has a chance to grow. Man, that’s tragic.