Heavy Hearts

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Sometimes I think caring about people comes with a strange little trap: you can start carrying pain that was never yours to carry. A friend of mine has been going through a difficult situation recently, and I have found myself praying for her, thinking about her, wondering what I can do and hoping that somehow I can make things a little easier.

But I have also noticed something else. Sometimes I start feeling her pain as though it were happening to me and the mind will just accelerate these feelings in real time.

And that reminded me of something that happened years ago.I went to a burial where a child had lost their mother. Everyone was sad, of course. I was grieving the loss too. But when I looked at the child, something shifted in me. I started feeling the grief I imagined that child would feel if they were old enough to fully understand what losing their mother meant.

The funny thing was, the child was actually okay. They were playing and moving around, completely unaware of the enormous meaning I had attached to the moment. But I wasn't. I had somehow taken my own grief, added the grief I imagined the child should be feeling, and carried both home with me.

I have been thinking about that lately. There is a difference between being there for someone and becoming emotionally responsible for what they are going through. Does taking on someone's pain actually make us better at helping them? Often, I don't think it does. If I'm drowning alongside you, I may understand the water very well, but I'm not necessarily in the best position to help you out of it.

I can listen. I can pray. I can check in. I can help where I can. I can sit with someone in a difficult moment without making their pain my permanent resident. Because honestly, if I am already struggling to carry my own things, adding someone else's entire emotional suitcase probably isn't going to make me a better friend.

Maybe the goal isn't to care less. Maybe it is to care without disappearing into someone else's experience. So now, when I notice myself becoming overwhelmed by something someone else is going through, I am trying to pause and ask: Is this mine to carry, or mine to care about?

Sometimes caring means helping someone hold their pain. It doesn't always mean picking it up and taking it home.

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