Despair Can’t Be the Only Thing We Make Space For

Lately, I’ve been hearing the same quiet guilt come up in conversation over and over again. In therapy sessions, in voice notes from friends; even in my own head, if I’m being honest.

“I know things are really bad right now, but… I had such a good day with my kids.”

“I feel awful saying this, but I laughed so hard with my friends last night.”

“I feel guilty planning a vacation right now, with everything going on.”

And then the question, spoken or implied:

Is that okay? Am I a bad person for living my life while the world feels like it’s falling apart? Is it wrong to celebrate when there's so much pain in the world right now?? 

I don’t think we talk enough about this kind of grief, the grief that lives in the background of our day-to-day lives. The kind that’s always humming underneath, especially when the news from Israel, or anywhere else in the world, feels like too much to hold. And we don’t talk enough about what it means to keep going in the middle of all that.

But here’s what I keep coming back to:

Despair can’t be the only thing we make space for.

If all we do is spiral in the darkness, we lose access to the very parts of ourselves that can create change compassion, connection, energy, hope. And if we want to build anything better-for ourselves, our communities, our children then we have to stay whole enough to keep trying.

That means choosing life, even when it’s hard.

Not in a toxic positivity, “just be positive” kind of way, but in the deeper more human way of saying:

I will keep showing up.

I will let myself feel joy, even in the midst of pain.

I will not let this world take away my humanity.

It takes courage to keep living in a hurting world. To let your child’s laughter move you. To enjoy your morning coffee. To keep loving, hoping, resting. These small moments of presence aren’t signs that you’re tuning out. They’re signs that you’re still in it. Still human. Still here.

We often frame this in terms of “giving yourself permission.” But I think it’s more than that.

It’s about honoring how hard-and how holy- it is to choose life anyway.

Because yes, the guilt people feel is real.

But so is the bravery it takes to keep living while holding grief. To make room for both.

To carry what’s painful and still reach for what’s beautiful.

So if you’ve been feeling torn lately between the pain of the world and the joy in your own life know that you’re not alone. And you’re not doing it wrong.

You’re showing up. You’re staying human.

And that matters more than you know.

❤️❤️❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹