You Are Not Alone

There’s this moment I’ll never forget. It was a few years ago, but it still sneaks up on me sometimes—especially when I hear the words "you are not alone."

I was sitting in my car, parked outside a grocery store, hands gripping the steering wheel like I was hanging on for dear life. And then... I just started crying. Out of nowhere. No big event had triggered it. Nothing bad had just happened. But the stress, the pressure, the loneliness—it all caught up with me at once. I just broke.

And the worst part? I felt like I was the only one in the world who felt that way. Like I was broken in some weird, private way that nobody else could understand. I honestly thought I was alone in it.

But I wasn’t. And neither are you.

Here’s the thing—pain has this sneaky way of isolating us. It lies to us. Makes us think nobody else could possibly be going through what we are. But that’s not true. It never is. I’ve learned that. Sometimes the hard way, sometimes the beautiful way.

Back in that parking lot, after I wiped my eyes enough to see clearly, I called my best friend. I don’t even remember what I said exactly—probably something like “Hey... I don’t know, I’m just so tired.” I wasn’t even sure what I needed from him.

But he didn’t try to “fix” me. He didn’t say “cheer up” or throw advice at me like a self-help book. He just paused for a second, then said, “Man, I’ve felt that too. You’re not crazy. I’ve been there.”

And boom—just like that—I didn’t feel so alone anymore.

You know, I think we all carry these invisible bags around. Full of stuff we don’t really talk about. Anxiety. Self-doubt. Grief. Family pressure. Regret. Some of us carry a full-on emotional suitcase and still smile through the day like everything’s fine. Why? Maybe we’re scared of being judged. Maybe we don’t wanna dump our pain on anyone. Or maybe we just think, “Eh, it’s not that bad. I’ll deal with it later.”

But the truth is, the longer we keep that stuff inside, the heavier it gets. And what we forget—what I forgot—is that everyone’s carrying something. Everyone. If we actually opened up a little, we’d probably find way more “me too” moments than we ever expected.

Social media? Don’t even get me started. It’s basically a highlight reel. We scroll through everyone’s “perfect” lives—vacation pics, smiling couples, job promotions—and it makes us feel like we’re the only ones drowning. But it’s not real. Or not the whole picture, at least.

I had this friend who posted couple goals nonstop. Like, every other post was a sunset kiss or some cute date night. And then, one day, she told me she was in a toxic, miserable relationship the whole time. It blew my mind. You never know what someone’s hiding behind a smile.

One of the most eye-opening things I’ve done? Group therapy. Yeah, I was super skeptical at first. Sitting in a circle, talking about feelings with strangers? No thanks. But I went. And guess what? Every single person there had a story. Some of them honestly had it harder than I did. Others were going through the exact same stuff. And in that space—something amazing happened. We dropped the act. No pretending. Just real people, being real.

We cried. We laughed. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like a weirdo for being sad. I felt... understood. Like I actually belonged somewhere.

Look, sometimes just hearing “you’re not alone” doesn’t really help. I get it. It can sound like one of those empty phrases people say because they don’t know what else to say. But I’m telling you—when you actually connect with someone who’s been where you are, it changes everything. You stop feeling like some broken alien. You realize you’re just human. Like the rest of us.

So yeah. If you’re reading this, and you feel like everything’s on your shoulders and no one sees it—please know that someone out there does get it. Whether it’s a friend, a stranger, or some community you stumble into online—someone cares. Someone’s been where you are.

Reach out. Say something. Cry. Scream. Journal. Call a friend at 2am. Just... don’t bottle it up forever. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Struggling doesn’t mean you’re weak.

It means you’re alive.