Why shouldn’t we compare our troubles? The stress of caring for her father with dementia once made Utsudo feel her friends’ work worries were trivial. But she soon remembered how, when she was heartbroken, a friend compared it with caring for a family member after a stroke—which only made her feel worse. She realized pain can’t be quantified or compared; everyone has their own troubles, and we shouldn’t judge others by “measuring suffering.” Life is hard, but with others walking beside you, it becomes less so.

Translated from Utsudo’s original Chinese column.

From listener to the one confiding

It’s ironic: I used to be the one who listened to others’ troubles, but lately, because of my father, I’ve become the one confiding.

Facing enormous pressure every day, watching a family member become slower and feeling his abilities decline, it’s easy for my mood to be affected. I also feel powerless and lost in the face of reality. But around him, I still have to smile and pretend nothing’s wrong.

I act strong in front of him and don’t dare put too much pressure on my sister far away. I can only quietly swallow the negative energy and fear. Even with friends and family, I hold back—I don’t dare let them see my vulnerability and resentment, afraid it will stress them out or put them off.

So I can only keep playing the strong one in front of everyone, still able to joke about myself.

Almost measuring others by my own pain

While chatting, I listened to friends talk about things in their lives or at work, half complaining with a smile. I envied them so much—I wish I only had work to worry about. I wish I could feel that kind of joy mixed with hardship.

I couldn’t help thinking: however tough work is, how could it compare with what I’m going through? There’s no need to binge-eat or complain online over it, right?

But when I noticed that thought pop into my head, I froze.

Because I remembered that once, when I was heartbroken, I confided in a friend. She calmly told me that she had once been juggling work while caring for her mother after a stroke, her own leg injury had flared up again, and her savings were nearly gone. At her lowest, she had despairingly asked her gravely ill mother whether they should end their lives together—and only gave up the idea when her mother shook her head and said no.

Compared with that, she said, relationship problems were just minor scrapes. Whenever I felt pain, I could think of what she went through, and I’d feel better.

I was grateful she shared her story to try to make me feel better. But honestly, even though objectively my troubles were nothing compared with hers, my pain didn’t ease one bit. Pain is something you must bear yourself, and how much you feel varies from person to person. The pain each of us feels can’t be expressed in objective numbers.

Pain can’t be quantified and shouldn’t be compared

It can’t be quantified or compared. Everyone has their own troubles and pain.

So I shouldn’t judge others’ troubles by “quantifying pain” either.

Every moment we live has meaning

As I’ve grown up, I increasingly understand the saying that “life is a trial.” We feel pain because we’re alive. As long as we live, we’ll encounter all kinds of hardships, and all we can do is struggle to survive.

So what’s the meaning of living like this?

Every moment we live has meaning. We feel pain, but that doesn’t mean we should be ruled by it. While we’re alive, we should let our lives bloom. Even the smallest light has meaning, and if it can light up those around us, all the better.

So I’ve decided that whatever happens and however hard things get, when I’m able, I’ll always lend a hand to those who need help, and treat the people around me with a more open heart and gentleness.

Life is hard, but if there are people beside you moving forward together, maybe it isn’t so hard after all.

I believe that after the hard times pass, we can all gather again, laughing and talking. The scars of the past will heal. Let’s carry our pain and keep walking forward—our journey through life won’t be lonely.

There’s you, and there’s me. Right?

FAQ

Further reading

• Previous: Hey! I Heard You’re a Writer on Ghost Island #209: The Price of Growing Up
• Start from the beginning: Hey! I Heard You’re a Writer on Ghost Island #01: Utsudo’s Debut — A Road to the Dream Covered in Frost
• Utsudo’s books

About the author

Utsudo is a Taiwanese light novelist and novelist VTuber with more than ten years in the industry and 40 commercially published print books. Her novel 《遺失的情書》 received a 2022 Ministry of Culture youth creative award. The 《嘿！聽說妳在鬼島當作家》 series records her experiences as a novelist in Taiwan.