It can be tough to put into words how it feels to constantly be living in “unprecedented times.”

(Or whatever we’re calling the sh*tshow that is our world these days.)

We are all dealing with so much.

If we actually took time out of our day to check in with each, we would see that everyone is going through something we know nothing about. Or something we’re going through as well, because pain is more collective than we think.

And so much of our pain these days stems from politics and ideology and a difference of opinion that often reveals itself to be a difference in morals and values and basic human kindness.

It would probably be fair to say that everyone’s life sucks to some degree right now. And we should be able to find solace and community in that.

But the unpopular truth is that our lives also suck for vastly different reasons and some are more valid, more terrifying, and more worthy of our time, energy, and activism than others.

If you haven’t heard this spoken word poem by TikToker Alyson Welborn, please take three minutes and truly listen. She may have finally put into words what so many of us have been feeling recently:

Watch on TikTok

“Your life doesn’t suck because your barista had blue hair. They still showed up, still remembered your order, still smiled even if it was tired, even if you didn’t.

Your life doesn’t suck because your neighbor doesn’t speak English. They pay taxes, raise their kids, drive to work before the sun rises. You don’t need to understand their words to see that they’re doing exactly what you’re doing—just trying to survive.

Your life doesn’t suck because a trans man used the men’s bathroom. He went in, he came out, the world kept spinning—it just wasn’t around you.

The problem was never children learning what a pronoun was. It was never about grammar. It was never about protecting kids.

Your life probably does suck, but not for the reasons you post about. Not because your favorite store sold a rainbow shirt or because you had to press one for English. Not because someone said Latinx or they/them in a tweet that you didn’t have to read.

Your life might suck because you’re drowning in debt. Because your rent just went up again and the only thing that trickled down is exhaustion. That pain is real but it’s not the fault of the cashier with pink nails or the kids with a Pride patch on their backpacks. 

Someone’s life today sucks because they lost their daughter when a man with a gun walked into a school and made it a graveyard, and the politicians that you voted for sent thoughts and prayers and money to the NRA.

Someone’s life today sucks because ICE knocked on the door before breakfast was even made and now their father is gone, disappeared into a system designed to forget him.

Someone’s life today sucks because they came out to their family and were met with silence or fists or Bible verses thrown like bricks, and if you ask me if I care that your life sucks, I don’t.

I will look you in the eye and say ‘I don’t.’

I don’t care that your life sucks—not if your definition of pain is seeing someone different than you exist without apologizing. Not if your idea of oppression is having to share space with people you don’t understand and never tried to. 

I don’t care that everything going wrong is exactly what you voted for. That the man you chose did what he said he was going to do, and now it’s affecting you.

I care about the millions who voted against it. Who stood in long lines of broken systems with shaking hands and steady hearts trying to hold back the tide.

I care about the people you hated so much you were willing to vote against their right to breathe, to marry, to walk into a store without fear, to learn history that includes them. And somehow you want sympathy? Try empathy first. Try waking up in a world where your very existence is debated by strangers in suits.

Your life doesn’t suck because someone else found a little joy. It doesn’t suck because someone else got rights you already had. It sucks because the people in power told you who to blame and you believed them. 

You were sold a scapegoat and called it salvation—but you can still unlearn it. You can still sit down, shut up for a second, and listen because not every cry is about you. Not every protest is a threat. Sometimes it’s just people fighting for the right to live without asking for your permission.

So maybe your life does suck, but it’s not because of pronouns or food stamps or hair dye or immigrants or love. It sucks because you keep mistaking comfort for freedom and cruelty for strength—and that’s on you.”

~