“Someone has it worse.”
“Someone would love to have what you’ve got.”
“It could always be worse.”
“Count your blessings.”
All true. Because– newsflash!!– you’re blessed.
You’re blessed, I’m blessed, we’re all so very, very blessed.
And, so, you’re a lousy person if you complain that you don’t like the looks of your meager pantry. You’re really rather UNGRATEFUL if you sigh over the confines of your tiny, tiny house. You’re essentially thumbing your nose in the face of true poverty if you worry you can’t pay your cable bill this month.
Honestly? I’m weary of it. It’s not that I encourage self-indulgence or failing to see how fortunate we may be. There is simply no denying that, if you’re reading this post on a computer, tablet, or mobile device right now, you’re way wealthier than a large portion of the world’s population.
But what kind of messsage are we sending those we love if we tell them, essentially, someone else has it worse, so you should hush your d@mn fussing already?
There’s nothing wrong with gently revealing the good to someone. There’s great love in helping a friend realize that, truly, it’s not all bad and here’s why. It is a sign of compassion to lift up a loved one rather than let them wallow in self-defeating depression.
I believe that if it feels bad, it’s bad enough to matter.
If something is truly hurting/worrying/stressing my friend, then it matters. It doesn’t matter that said friend has a cute house, loving husband, healthy children, and food on the table. Her blessings should not be held against her when evaluating her pain. Her worry should not be dismissed just because “it could be worse.”
Perhaps the way to help someone “count her blessings” isn’t to flaunt them in her face when you determine her concerns are shallow or insignificant or overstated, but rather to firmly establish yourself as ONE of those said blessings when you wrap your arm around her and simply murmur,
“I know it feels bad. And I’m sorry. Your feelings matter to me.”