Good afternoon, my loves.
I wasn't planning on writing this article this morning.
Truthfully, I had every intention of working on something entirely different. But before I even opened my research, before I looked at my messages, before I checked the news or my social medias, I found myself sitting quietly with these thoughts. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to write them down.
Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe it's just me.
But something tells me someone else out there needs to hear this today.
So this article is for you, my loves...
To just let the past go.
To stop bringing it up.
To just be happy.
Most of us have heard some version of those words at some point in our lives. What's interesting isn't just the words themselves—it's what happens inside of us the moment we hear them.
Our shoulders tighten.
Our breathing changes.
Our stomach knots.
Our minds become quiet, not because we've suddenly healed, but because we've just learned something very important in that moment.
Our pain isn't welcome here.
And so we do what human beings have become incredibly good at doing.
We perform.
We smile.
We go to work.
We answer, "I'm fine."
We laugh when everyone else laughs.
We continue carrying conversations as though everything inside of us is perfectly okay.
Society often rewards composure far more than it rewards honesty.
Then one day, someone reaches the point where they simply can't carry it anymore.
Maybe they cry in public.
Maybe they become angry.
Maybe they shut down completely.
Maybe they have what others call a breakdown.
And instead of asking ourselves, "What happened to bring this person here?" we often ask, "What's wrong with them?"
Sometimes we stare.
Sometimes we pull out our phones and record them.
Sometimes we gossip about them later.
Sometimes we walk away because witnessing another person's pain makes us uncomfortable.
Yet if we truly believe that we're all connected, doesn't that response seem a little strange?
Imagine looking down one morning and noticing that your ankle is swollen.
A few weeks ago, that happened to me.
Had I never looked down, I wouldn't have become aware of it. And had I never become aware of it, I wouldn't have begun trying to help it heal.
I certainly wouldn't have looked at my own ankle and said, "Stop being dramatic."
I wouldn't have told it, "You've been swollen long enough."
I wouldn't have ignored it simply because tending to it required my time and attention.
I would become curious.
I would observe it.
I would ask what caused it.
I would care for it.
Not because my ankle is separate from me...
But because it is me.
Now imagine humanity through that same lens.
If another person is struggling, if they're shaking under the weight of grief, trauma, loneliness, fear, or despair, what if they're not simply "someone else's problem"?
What if they're another part of the same body?
That doesn't mean we're responsible for fixing every person we meet.
None of us can.
But perhaps we are responsible for something much simpler.
To notice.
To remain present.
To listen before we judge.
To allow another human being to be seen before asking them to hide what they're feeling so that everyone else can remain comfortable.
Many cultures throughout history understood something we've slowly drifted away from.
In numerous Indigenous communities and tribal societies, when one member was hurting, the community gathered around them. They understood that healing wasn't always about having the perfect answer. Sometimes healing began with simply refusing to let someone suffer alone.
Presence mattered.
Connection mattered.
Being seen mattered.
Somewhere along the way, many of us learned something different.
Keep moving.
Keep producing.
Keep smiling.
Don't make anyone uncomfortable.
And so we've become strangers wearing masks beside other strangers wearing masks, each secretly hoping someone notices what's happening underneath without us ever having to say it out loud.
Maybe that's why I felt called to write this today.
I can't say that everyone is feeling what I'm feeling.
None of us can truly know another person's inner world.
But I do know this.
Many people are carrying burdens that no one around them can see.
Many people have become experts at looking okay while quietly falling apart.
And maybe that's why we need each other now more than ever.
Not because we're meant to rescue one another.
But because we're meant to remind one another that we don't have to carry everything alone.
So perhaps the question isn't...
"Why can't people just let the past go?"
Perhaps the better question is...
How many people have ever truly been given a place where they no longer had to carry it alone?
Because healing rarely begins the moment someone is told to stop hurting.
It often begins the moment someone realizes they no longer have to hide the fact that they do.
Love Your Silvia ❤️