What You Don’t Know

Yesterday, I moved through a normal day.

Conversations.
Handshakes.
A few quick laughs.

Nothing that would stand out.

But I kept coming back to something.

What do I not know?

The person right in front of me
might be carrying something they’ve never said out loud.

Not because they’re hiding it.
Because they’ve learned how to carry it.

We’re quick with people.

We read a tone
and decide who they are.

We catch a moment
and treat it like the whole story.

I’ve done that more than I want to admit.

Filled in the blanks
like I had enough information.

I didn’t.

Some people are carrying things
that would break most of us.

Abuse.
Loss.
Regret.
Shame.

Some of it is recent.
Some of it so old it blurs the lines between their soul and the pain.

And they have learned far too well to keep moving through the day
without letting it spill into conversation.

That takes strength.

Here’s the part that stayed with me.

I’ve misread strength as distance.
Pain as attitude.
Exhaustion as indifference.

All because I saw a moment
and assumed I understood the person.

I didn’t.

And I still don’t.

So I’m trying to move a little differently.

Slower to label.
Quicker to give space.

Because there’s always more there
than I can see.

Most of the time
that’s the part that actually matters.

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