Editorās note: This is an adapted article from Robertaās blog of reflection and learnings
TLDR: Suppressing emotions disguises itself as resilience until it leads to disconnection and overwhelms you. Hereās how to recognise it.
We like to think of ourselves as rational, composed beings. We handle stress. We power through bad days. We “let it go.” But what happens when we donāt? When, instead of dealing with our emotions, we shove them into a locked box and pretend they never existed?
Emotional suppression is sneaky. It doesnāt announce itself. Instead, it creeps in, disguising itself as resilience, logic, or just “not having time to deal with this right now.” Before you know it, youāre operating on autopilot, feeling strangely numb, disconnected, orāironicallyālike you’re about to explode.
As someone who used emotional suppression as a means for survival for years, I often catch myself acting out when I deal with stress, conflict or uncertainty. Instead of standing up for my instincts, I find myself avoiding or ignoring the emotions.
The First Sign: Youāre Always āFineā
If “Iām fine” is your go-to response, even when youāre clearly not, thatās a red flag. Itās not that youāre lying, exactlyāitās that you genuinely donāt feel in touch with whatās going on beneath the surface. Instead of acknowledging sadness, frustration, or anxiety, you convince yourself that you simply donāt have feelings about the situation at all.
You Get Overwhelmed by āSmallā Things
Ever found yourself losing your patience over slow Wi-Fi, a spilled drink, or an unexpected email? If youāre suppressing emotions, tiny inconveniences feel disproportionately infuriating. Thatās because unprocessed emotions donāt disappear; they simmer beneath the surface, waiting for an outlet. When something minor happens, it bursts through the cracks.
You Distract Yourself Constantly
Binge-watching, doomscrolling, overworking, or planning every second of your dayāthese arenāt just hobbies; theyāre avoidance tactics. When silence feels unbearable, and youāre always reaching for something to fill the space, ask yourself: What am I trying not to feel?
Your Body Knows Before You Do
Suppression doesnāt just stay in your head; it seeps into your body. Tight shoulders, headaches, unexplained fatigue, and digestive issuesāthese can all be signs of emotional stress manifesting physically. If youāre exhausted but donāt know why, your emotions might be dragging you down from the inside out.
You Feel Disconnected from Joy
Emotional suppression isnāt selective. When you shut down sadness, frustration, or fear, you also dull your ability to feel excitement, love, and joy. If nothing excites you anymore, if life feels muted, this could be a sign that youāve closed yourself off emotionally without even realising it.
Learning to let them surface in a healthy way.
When I first moved out of my home at 18 years of age, I spent the next years healing my nervous system and getting back in touch with my emotions. We all need to identify what works for us, whether it be journaling, exercising, or talking to someone. We need to process and sit with what is coming up, even if it feels uncomfortable.
Final Thought: Your Emotions Arenāt the Enemy
Shutting down might feel like a survival strategy, but it comes at a cost. Suppressed emotions donāt vanishāthey find other ways to manifest, often in ways that make life harder than it needs to be. The real strength isnāt in suppressing what you feel; itās in facing it, allowing it, and realising that emotionsāno matter how uncomfortableāare there to guide you, not break you.
TLDR: After a deep personal loss and a spiral into depression, the author found comfort through friends and therapy. However, lasting purpose only emerged after encountering Buddhist teachings through a meditation retreat. With support from a spiritual community and wise teachers, the journey of recovery began ā one guided by compassion, patience, and the recognition of impermanence.
Itās likely this isnāt your first time reading an article about the profound effects of Buddhist teachings (it is the whole premise of this site, after all!). In line with HOLās Mental Health Month, hereās one more to add to the collection ā written in hopes that this story brings you comfort and reminds you that you are not alone in your struggle.
To begin, I wasnāt particularly religious growing up. I held certain stereotypes about traditional religions ā seeing them as ritualistic and often at odds with science. I didnāt consider myself spiritual either; absorbed in worldly pursuits, I never explored anything deeper.
My only touchpoint with Buddhism was a rudimentary understanding of kamma, which gave me comfort during a particularly powerless moment in childhood.
When Grief Took Everything Away
Two years ago, someone very dear to me left, and the grief brought me to my knees. Things that once brought me joy or purpose suddenly felt hollow. Everything seemed frivolous and futile. What was the point of doing anything if everyone I loved would leave one day anyway?
Nihilism took over, and my world collapsed.
In the weeks that followed, I woke up every day wishing I hadnāt, as I was constantly dragged under a relentless tide of anxiety, guilt, depression and regret from the moment I opened my eyes. I cried for hours, and would be so drained that even basic self-care, like showering, felt very difficult.
Iād only ever get out of bed for some food, water or the toilet.
The pain, loneliness, and self-loathing were unbearable ā so acute and exhausting that I could barely function. It felt like there was no end in sight, and I wanted so badly for it to stop. Desperate to escape those feelings and clouded by depressionās distortions, I began planning a permanent escape.
The First Glimmers of Support
No one around me knew what I was going through as I kept to myself. I knew I would only be able to get the help I needed if I reached out, hence I eventually confided in a few people I trusted. I made plans to meet and sob talk with them, which also forced me out of the house (more importantly my bed). They listened and kept me company, providing the respite I desperately needed. But it was temporary.
In moments alone, I fell right back into the spiral.
I went through the motions of life feeling dreadful and devoid of purpose as days blurred into weeks.
Then, one day, my mother ā who never pushed religion ā asked if I wanted to join her at a Buddhist meditation retreat. I hadnāt expressed interest, but with my calendar now empty, I said yes.
With two weeks left before the retreat and almost no knowledge of Buddhism, I dove into a crash course: Bhikkhu Bodhiās videos, scattered online resources, anything I could find. The retreat turned out to be a pleasant experience.
A change in routine quietened the noise in my head, even if just a little.
A Story That Changed Everything
The turning point came during a Dhamma talk, where the teacher shared the parable of the one-eyed turtle that surfaces once every hundred years (SN 56.48). The story hit me hard ā the rarity of human rebirth, and even more so, the rarity of encountering the Buddhaās teachings.
For the first time in a long while, I felt grateful to be alive as my perspective shifted.
It dawned on me: thereās no guarantee Iāll have these same conditions in a future life ā no certainty of being human, or finding the Dhamma again. As the Ajahn urged us to make haste in getting as close as possible to the door of NibbÄna in this very life, I made up my mind to practise well and not waste my blessings.
After months of existential nihilism, I had finally found meaning and purpose. I was no longer in a rush to leave this life behind. The retreat also introduced me to DAYWA, an invaluable community of spiritual friends who have anchored me ever since.
Burnout and Relapse
Of course, this wasnāt one-and-done. Inspired by the retreat, I dove headfirst into Buddhist books and meditation ā only to burn out when progress felt slow or nonexistent. Sometimes, things even felt worse.
I quickly slipped back and found myself still very much shrouded in the dark cloud of depression.
Between my relapses and frequent visits to my psychiatrist and psychologist, Iād turn to my close friends when I felt overwhelmed. Soon enough, I noticed I was repeating myself, and felt like a nuisance despite their reassurance.
I went back to my old pattern of bottling things up, and it was a tumultuous period, made even more turbulent with the passing of my grandmother as well. Eventually, I threw myself into work to feel better about myself, as I found it easier and quicker to seek that validation and gratification that I hadnāt yet achieved in meditation.
Meeting a Teacher Who Saw Through Me
Months later, through the compassion of a DAYWA leader, I was given the rare chance to speak privately with a wise, well-practiced teacher. Her remarkable ability to see through people made me feel deeply vulnerable ā there was no hiding from her. As long-suppressed pain resurfaced, her gentle wisdom helped me navigate through it.
She guided me to focus on the cessation of pain rather than its onset, so I could witness its impermanence. Just as sediments in the water settle to the bottom with time when undisturbed, these thoughts and emotions would eventually subside when one leaves them be.
āNature is helping you ā let it help you.ā she said.
While it was scary and easy to be swept away by the strong currents of sentiment, I had to trust that nature would take its course. Thoughts and emotions, however strong, would pass, just like waves crashing in and then retreating.
In a previous conversation with her, she had also pointed out my stubbornness, saying I wouldnāt have stumbled onto this path if I hadnāt suffered so deeply (which, in hindsight, is very true). That comment gave a new meaning to my struggles. I began to frame it as a sort of ācanon eventā or origin story of a protagonist (think Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse ā IYKYK). It helped me shift from victimhood to something a little more light-hearted and empowering.
Looking back, I was incredibly fortunate to have support from family, friends, colleagues, and access to professional care. It was the hardest blow dealt in the softest way possible; hard enough to knock me down so that Iād look for a way out of suffering, but cushioned by the surrounding support so that I still had a chance to get back up.
Learning to Be Patient With Healing
These days, I take a more balanced approach to deepening my knowledge and practice. Slowly, Iām building a new identity ā one not defined by the person who left me. No doubt I still have bad days, slight triggers and anxiety about associated topics, people, places and memories. The fear of relapsing hasnāt fully gone.
But now, I do my best to extend compassion to myself. I try to be patient, allowing myself to move at my own pace instead of beating myself up for taking ātoo longā. Armed with the Buddhaās teachings, and flanked by my support system, and compassionate kalyÄį¹amittÄ, I find the courage and strength to pick myself up and try again ā one day at a time.
Wise Steps
Be kind to yourself during difficult times. Recovery is not linear. Avoid berating yourself for being stuck or moving slowly. Thereās no fixed timeline for healing.
You are not a burden. Itās okay to reach out to others. Expressing vulnerability and seeking help are not signs of weakness, nor are they things to feel guilty about. Leaning on your support network is a valid and important part of recovery. Prioritise getting better ā you can pay it forward when youāre ready and within capacity.
Seek professional help. Therapists, psychiatrists, and support groups play a vital role. Sometimes, these challenges require guidance and support beyond what we can achieve on our own. Reaching out to a qualified professional can give us the necessary tools and strategies to navigate these complex issues.
Reframe your suffering. Changing the narrative can empower you. Whether through gratitude, compassion, or even humor, new perspectives can turn victimhood into resilience.
Have faith in impermanence. Emotions, thoughts, and pain are like waves ā they arise and pass. Trust that, with time and stillness, clarity will return.
TL;DR Therapy isnāt separate from the Buddhist pathāit can be part of it. Asking for help gives others the chance to practise compassion while helping you navigate suffering.
“But my friends are so busy, telling them my problems is just going to drag them down.”
“I don’t want to be a burden to my loved ones, I keep repeating my same problems to them”
If these thoughts sound familiar, if they’ve played on repeat in your head during particularly rough patches, this piece is for you.
I’ve been there too. Curled up on my bedroom floor at 2 AM, scrolling through my contacts and wondering if anyone would actually want to hear about the mess I’d made of things. Again. The weight of feeling like a broken record, cycling through the same anxieties with the same patient friends who probably had their own problems to deal with.
But here’s what I’ve learned about reaching out for help, viewed through the lens of Buddhist wisdom that I’ve slowlyāsometimes reluctantlyācome to appreciate.
The Mind as an Ocean
Some Buddhist teachers describe the mind as being like the ocean, vast, deep, and layered. On the surface, the ocean is constantly shifting, tossed by waves, winds, and changing weather.
We experience sudden storms: difficult workdays that leave us drained, strained relationships that keep us up at night, moments of crushing self-doubt.
But here’s what took me years to understand. The deeper you go, the quieter it becomes. Beneath all that surface agitation, there’s a space of calm and clarity that remains untouched by the chaos above.
This doesn’t mean we ignore the surface storms or pretend they’re not real. Trust me, I’ve tried that approach, it doesn’t work. It means we learn how to anchor ourselves amidst the turbulence. Meditation and reflection become like diving beneath the waves, touching that calm centre that’s always available, even when it feels impossibly out of reach.
Remember, the goal isnāt to eliminate all waves. Itās not to get lost in them. We are not our thoughts or emotions. Like waves, they rise, change form, and pass.
The ocean remains.
Why Itās Wise to Seek Guidance
In the suttas, the Buddha repeatedly encouraged spiritual friendship and community. He understood something essential. We donāt grow in isolation.
While Ananda was the Buddha’s attendant for many years and was known for his devotion and memory, the Buddha did correct him on occasion. One notable instance is when Ananda stated that spiritual friendship was “half of the spiritual life.”
“Don’t say that, Ananda. Don’t say that. Admirable friendship, admirable companionship, and admirable camaraderie is actually the whole of the holy life. When a monk has admirable people as friends, companions, & comrades, he can be expected to develop & pursue the noble eightfold path.ā – The Buddha, in Upaddha Sutta
No one sails rough seas alone. Not safely, at least. Just as a skilled captain consults maps, stars, and seasoned navigators, we too benefit from turning to those who can support us when the journey gets difficult.
Does asking for help make me āUnbuddhist?ā
For many Buddhist practitioners, the question of whether to seek professional mental health support can feel fraught with spiritual implications. Does reaching out for help contradict the teaching of seeing suffering, not identifying with it, and navigating it with equanimity?
Are therapy and medication at odds with meditation and mindfulness? These concerns, while understandable, may stem from a misunderstanding of what the Buddha actually taught about human suffering and our response to it.
The Assu Sutta (SN 15.3) offers an honest depiction of human suffering in Buddhist literature. Rather than minimising pain, the Buddha acknowledged its vast scope across lifetimes, telling his disciples that the tears shed from losing mothers, fathers, children, and loved ones throughout our existences would exceed “the water in the four great oceans”.
“It is when someone who is overcome and overwhelmed by suffering sorrows and wails and laments, beating their breast and falling into confusion.”
“Or else, overcome by that suffering, they begin an external search, wondering: āWho knows one or two phrases to stop this suffering?”
The Buddha explained that suffering results either in (1) confusion or (2) an external search. This distinction reveals that seeking external help when suffering becomes unbearable isn’t spiritual failure, but rather, can be a wise choice. A choice to actively pursue answers rather than remain trapped in confusion.
In line with this, pursuing professional mental health care can indeed be a constructive response to pain, representing the same fundamental human impulse that led people to seek the Buddha’s teachings in the first place.
Some challenges in life are simply too heavy to carry alone. Whether it’s persistent stress that makes your chest tight, burnout that leaves you feeling hollow, or old emotional wounds that keep resurfacing when you least expect them. It’s not a failure to ask for help.
By asking for help we also give a āgenerosity/danaā opportunity for our friends/loved ones/therapists to practice their patience or empathy with us.
Why seek therapy? Canāt I meditate my problems away?
One might be shy to accept that they have a challenge they canāt battle alone. Trying to āmeditateā away your problems is like applying a band-aid to a wide, gaping wound. Living life intentionally on hard mode doesnāt equate to a promised payoff at the end of the horizon.
If we are struggling and in a bad place, seeking therapy or even other psychological professionals is like applying a stitch to a gaping wound. Mental health professionals are equipped to respond to the specific problem you have, rather than a Reddit forum.
Once the mind is settled out of the emergency it found itself in (e.g. suicide ideation), the Dhamma can then come in to support your recovery.
Everyone is different, so either having the Dhamma side by side with your treatment or dipping your toes into Dhamma after having therapy is up to the individual.
The idea of the community that supports our path is at the heart of the Buddhist path.
Friends who truly listen. Mentors who guide us. Or even a good therapist who offers presence and clarity when we need it most. Mental health professionals, in this light, are not separate from the path. They are part of it.
A therapist is like a skilled navigator. Someone trained to help you understand the terrain of your mind, spot patterns you canāt always see, and explore difficult memories or emotions safely.
The Buddha himself sought out teachers before his awakening. He didnāt isolate himself from learning. He embraced guidance.
There is no contradiction between walking the spiritual path and seeking psychological support. In fact, they often work beautifully together. Reaching out to a therapist doesn’t mean you’re broken or weak. It means you’re ready to understand your suffering better and live with more awareness and freedom.
Taking the First Step: How to Reach Out
If you’re thinking about speaking to a professional, here’s a simple yet thoughtful template that can be tweaked for your specific context.
Dear [Therapist’s Name],
I recently came across your profile on the [clinic name] website and would like to enquire about therapy.
For context, I’m a [man/woman] in my twenties/thirties based in Singapore, seeking support primarily for managing work and general life stress.
Could you kindly help with a few practical queries?
Do you offer therapy sessions during weekends or weekday evenings?
What are your current fees?
Is there a convenient appointment booking system (like automated online scheduling), or should I book manually via text or email?
Typically, what’s the wait time for appointments?
Where do sessions usually take place?
Does your clinic participate in the NEHR?
Thank you very muchāI look forward to your reply.
Warm regards, [Your Name]
A Journey Guided by Compassion
Lastly, always remember: a good therapist, like a lighthouse, guides without judgment, shining a clear path through rough waters. By choosing to seek help, you’re recognising your journey towards wisdom and compassion, benefiting not only yourself but all around you.
May your path be filled with insight, peace, and true well-being.
Speaking of the ocean where we first started off, Ayya Khema shares the following: āThe Buddha said his teaching was like the ocean. When we approach it from the shore, it is shallow at first. We can just wet our feet. As we go into it deeper and deeper we are eventually engulfed and finally totally swallowed by it.
Just so is the teaching. We start out just wetting our big toe to see what the temperature is. Maybe trying meditation for half a day, then two days, until we finally have the courage to come to a ten-day meditation course and sit through all of it. We learn the teaching little by little until eventually our whole life is dominated by it.ā
May you grow in blessings.
Wise Steps
Realise that there is calm to be reached, deep down, past the turmoil and worry
Remember that spiritual friendship is half of the spiritual life, that companionship and company is wholesome and healthy
Have the humility and awareness to recognise therapy as rapid and helpful triage, that can be aided in long-term by our spiritual practice.
TLDR: This article explores how consuming negative content affects mental well-being and introduces practices like group meditation, reducing social media use, and daily journaling to regain clarity, peace, and intention. Jeraldine Phneah emphasizes the importance of choosing what we feed our minds to nurture a healthier, more intentional life.
Working in a pre-IPO tech company is quite demanding, especially when youāre also juggling volunteer work. Some days, I go straight from back-to-back meetings at work in the day into conversations with residents I support through my volunteer work in the evenings.
In the quiet moments, such as at the gym or while winding down at night, I have realised that although I may be physically alone, my mind remains flooded with noise.
At times,I have found myself scrolling endlessly through negative news, angry comment threads, and short-form videos that add little value to my life.
This habit, often called doom scrolling, may seem harmless. Yet, over time, it chips away at our mental well-being. Instead of feeling rested, I end up feeling more restless and distracted.
Emotionally charged content overstimulates the brain, triggering anxiety, clouding focus, and draining the mental energy we need to rest and think clearly. Our minds were not designed to absorb a constant stream of bad news and negativity.
We are not truly resting when we scroll. We are absorbing, reacting, and often internalising the stress of others.
I came to see that I have not been particularly mindful, especially about what I allow into my mental space. What we consume shapes how we feel. How we feel, in turn, shapes how we see the world.
Recognising this, Iāve begun to gently shift how I relate to my inner and outer worlds. These are to bring more peace, clarity, and intention into how I live each day.
1. Join weekly group meditations
I made a resolution that for this month, I will be attending meditation sessions with other young working professionals in Singapore.
Meditation helps me return to the present. It trains the mind to observe rather than react.
Research has shown that regular meditation reduces stress, improves emotional regulation, and supports focus and decision-making. These are qualities I find myself needing as I navigate high-pressure environments.
This practice is also aligned with Taoist teachings: āMuddy water, let stand, becomes clear.ā In moments of stillness, we allow the mental clutter to settle. That is often when insight and calm begin to emerge.
While solo practice offers flexibility, group meditation helps build consistency and a sense of community ā especially in a fast-paced environment where we often feel like weāre navigating stress alone.
Being surrounded by peers with similar life pressures can be grounding. Itās a quiet reminder that weāre not alone in our efforts to slow down, reconnect, and stay present amidst the noise.
2. Reducing social media and phone use
I have taken a few practical steps over the past few years. Since my role allows it, I do not have Slack on my phone, and I have turned off all notifications from messaging apps. This helps me protect my attention and reduce unnecessary stress.
In recent weeks, I began deleting social media apps from my phone. This change helps me use them more intentionally, rather than out of habit.
These changes have helped reduce distractions. They have also freed up time for things that matter more to me, such as learning languages, reading, or simply being still.
I have also stopped checking WhatsApp and my phone first thing in the morning. That small boundary allows me to begin the day with clarity rather than overwhelm.
Some days, I wonder if too much of my youth is slipping away into a small screen ā and that question alone helps me make more conscious choices.
3. Journaling daily at least five to ten minutes a day
Daily journaling, even for just five to ten minutes, allows me to untangle my thoughts, recognise emotional patterns, and process what is weighing on my mind. It provides a quiet space to reflect, realign, and reconnect with what truly matters.
Journaling helps me reflect not only on my emotions, but also on mistakes I made, what I want to learn from them, how I am showing up in the world and who I want to become.
Studies have shown that journaling can reduce stress, improve clarity, and build resilience. For me, it is a way of coming home to myself ā a daily act of self-kindness.
None of this is about squeezing more out of the day. It is about protecting my clarity and choosing to live with greater intention.
This means being mindful about what I allow in, more deliberate about how I spend my time, and more compassionate with myself when things feel overwhelming.
If you have been feeling stretched thin as well, I see you. Small, intentional steps can make a world of difference.
Hereās a question Iāve been reflecting on: What am I feeding my mind ā and is it nourishing me? If youāre looking for a place to start, this might be a gentle prompt to sit with this week.
Wise Steps:
Find communities and social circles with whom you can practice mindfulness. Doing so will ease the journey and ground you on your path to betterment.
Reduce amount of social media used, even innocuous ones like WhatsApp. Allow yourself breaks and moments away from it, especially during times like after waking up and before bed.
Journal for five to ten minutes a day. Doing so allows organisation and recognition of thoughts and emotional state that can bring clarity to our lives.
Editorās note: This is an adapted article from Robertaās blog of reflection and learnings
TLDR: Leading with compassion isn’t softāit’s essential for emotional intelligence and effective leadership.
Itās easy to be compassionate toward people we love. Friends who need support, family members going through a hard timeāwe extend kindness almost instinctively. But what about the people outside our inner circles (a.k.a. strangers)? The ones who frustrate us, the ones we donāt understand, the ones we donāt even know? Or maybe the inverse? When we take our loved ones for granted.
In Search Inside Yourself, a book that started as an emotional intelligence program at Google, Chade-Meng Tan argues that compassion isnāt just a moral virtueāitās a skill that can be trained like a muscle. And when we build that muscle, we donāt just become more patient or kind; we become more present, more emotionally intelligent, and ultimately, better at navigating life.
Why Compassion is a Game-Changer for Personal Growth
Many of us spend years trying to āfixā ourselvesāreading self-help books, setting goals, chasing productivity hacks. But what if the real transformation comes from something simpler?
When we practice compassionātoward ourselves and othersāwe stop seeing mistakes as failures and start seeing them as learning experiences. We stop taking things so personally. We become less reactive, less consumed by resentment, more open to change.
The more I reflect on this, the more I realise how much suffering is self-inflicted. How often do we replay an awkward conversation in our heads, assuming we embarrassed ourselves? Or beat ourselves up over things we canāt change? Imagine if, instead of criticising yourself, you treated yourself like a close friend. Wouldn’t life feel lighter?
Compassion Makes You a Better Leader (and Human)
If you look at the worldās best leadersānot just in business, but in communities, in families, in friendshipsāthey all have one thing in common: they lead with emotional intelligence. And emotional intelligence is built on compassion.
Weāre currently seeing a lot of the other type of āleadersā on the world stage. A leader who lacks empathy demands perfection, dismisses emotions, and leads through fear. A leader with compassion, on the other hand, listens, understands, and inspires. They donāt just see what people do; they see why they do it. And that makes all the difference.
But leadership isnāt just about running a company or managing a team. We lead in our everyday livesāwhether itās showing up for our families, guiding a friend through a hard time, or simply setting the tone for how we interact with the world.
How to Build a Habit of Compassion
Like anything worth developing, compassion takes practice. Hereās where to start:
Pause Before Reacting ā The next time someone frustrates you, take a breath before responding. Ask yourself: What might be happening in their world right now?
Turn Self-Criticism Into Self-Compassion ā When you catch yourself being harsh, reframe it. Instead of, āI messed up,ā try, āIām learning.ā
Make Eye Contact and Be Present ā Really listen when people speak. Put your phone down. Acknowledge people. Small moments of connection create big change.
See Everyone as a Work in Progress (Including Yourself) ā No one has it all figured out. Weāre all just doing our best. Give others grace.
Compassion Isnāt SoftāItās Transformative
The world often teaches us that kindness is weakness and hat to succeed, we have to be cutthroat, unyielding, and detached. But the truth is, compassion makes us stronger. It makes us more resilient, more adaptable, more human.
To borrow words from the Buddha, to be a person of true compassion is to be like a cloud of boundless rain, watering and nourishing the lives of others regardless of who and where they are.
So maybe the real secret to becoming the person you want to be isnāt about trying harder, achieving more, or pushing through at all costs. Maybe itās about softening. About choosing understanding over judgment. About recognising that the more we give, the more we grow.
Because in the end, the way we treat others is the way we shape ourselves.
