Note: An audio of this post is available in my free resource library to listen to now or download for later.
We all go through hard things. Such is life. Sure, it seems like some always have it easy, or easier, than we do. Likewise, some have it harder, though maybe we don’t notice those folks as readily. No one really knows what someone else is going through, or has gone through. People are good at masking, and I’m not talking about the sort of masking most of us were doing during the COVID-19 pandemic.
The opening lines in my book, EMERGING.
What hard things have you gone through?
Are you going through something hard right now?
Do you tend to compare your hard things with the “hards” of others?
Pretty sure we all do this. It’s human nature, after all. And in Cancer Land this comparing thing goes on a lot.
For example, more than a few times, I have compared my mother’s cancer experience to mine. Yep. Not a good idea. Nonetheless, I’ve done it.
Our initial diagnoses were much the same. Our treatments, (and outcomes, so far anyway), were very different mostly because of knowledge I had and she did not. (Long story. It’s all in my memoir.)
My point is, comparing your hard to someone else’s hard helps nobody.
I like to say, “share but don’t compare.”
We all know many have it harder than we do, sometimes much harder. You can always find someone who is struggling far more, or far less (or so it might seem anyway) than you are.
I hear this comparing thing frequently from readers who comment or email me sharing that they feel they don’t have a right to “complain” because they “only” had radiation. Only needed a lumpectomy. Never needed chemo. Never lost their hair. Or whatever “only” or “never” comes to mind.
My sister has told me a few times that she didn’t feel she could complain about her prophylactic bilateral mastectomy and subsequent issues because she didn’t have it as bad as me.
You might want to read: When Your Family Is Impacted by Hereditary Cancer – An Interview With My Sister.
I try to remind her and others that their hard matters too. Because it does. There isn’t a suffering quota you need to fulfil in order to qualify for some elusive, non-existent “sufferering badge of honor”.
When you step into Grief World, comparison is perhaps even more prevalent.
Losses are almost always compared to other losses. Why this is I’m not entirely sure.
Losing a child is considered the ultimate loss. I don’t argue with that. In fact, I believe it.
I often remember words of Elizabeth Edwards who said this about her metastatic breast cancer diagnosis in her book, Resilience:
Death looks different to someone who has placed a child in the ground. It is not as frightening. In fact, it is in some way buried deep within you almost a relief.
She had already lived through the death of her son Wade. She had experienced the ultimate loss. So, her feelings about her own diagnosis and what it meant, didn’t seem quite as daunting.
In my own family, following the tragic death of a beloved cousin many years ago in a horrific accident, similar in some ways to the the one that killed Wade Edwards, I’m pretty sure his mother, my aunt, felt and feels much the same about death. (You can read about that in my memoir too.)
However, this kind of devasting loss doesn’t mean other losses don’t matter or hurt deeply too.
For example, I follow a pet loss account on Instagram where folks compare the loss of their beloved pets to that of a person who’s lost a child. They consider their pets to be their children and when that beloved pet dies, they say the loss hurts just as deeply. Many also say they feel judged for feeling this way.
Who are we to judge that that’s not true?
This does not mean pet life equals human life, but for some, perhaps the grief is the same.
When an elderly parent, or other elderly family member dies, how often do we hear, “at least she had a long life”?
Pretty often.
I know I heard it after my dad’s death, and I did not feel comforted by those words. At all.
You might want to read: Things People Say at Funerals.
Just because a loved one is old when she/he dies, it doesn’t lessen the grief a loved one feels. It doesn’t lessen the loss. Old lives are not less than; nor is the loss felt when they die.
Hierarchies of grief help no one.
So, who does comparing help?
Well, again, no one.
So, I want you to remember that you are seen and heard here, and that no matter what hard thing(s) you are going through, or have gone through — your hard matters too.
Say it. Believe it; because it’s true.
Share about a hard thing you’ve been through or that you’re going through right now in the comments below.
#YourHardMattersToo is one of the takeaways I want you to come away with after reading Emerging.
Click on the book image above for the Amazon link to Emerging.
What’s a hard thing you’ve been through?
What hard thing are you going through right now?
Why do you think we create hierarchies of grief and suffering – including regarding illness?
Have you joined my email list yet?
I wrote about cancer language, cancer worry, survivor guilt, loss, pet grief, COVID-19, DIEP flap surgery, life as an introvert, aging, resiliency, and more in EMERGING. Available at Amazon and most other online booksellers.
