A huge life lesson!

I’ve always existed in a bubble—one that felt safe, surrounded by all the magical things I could imagine: unicorns, rainbows, and even rainbow farts (I know, it sounds silly, but it was my happy place). But over time, something has started to shift within me, and I didn’t realize it until recently. Something has felt off, and now I’m not just sad, but I’m filled with anxiety and uncertainty. It feels like I’m trying to fix something I’m not even sure I can fix.

As I reflect on my experiences at my last two jobs, I’ve realized a startling truth: I have been surrounded by broken people. I fought to maintain my sense of self because I knew, deep down, that I wasn’t broken. But the more I worked with them, the more I saw that many of my colleagues were struggling—physically, emotionally, or spiritually. Some were battling physical impairments, others couldn’t see through one eye, and I watched as some would beg for money despite dressing for success. I also witnessed coworkers coming to work without food, only to splurge when payday came, begging for money again by the end of the month.

Some of them lacked basic etiquette, even in private spaces like the bathroom, and I could not understand it. Then, I noticed the younger generation—Gen Z- who are supposed to be the torchbearers of change. I came across many of them acting out, expressing themselves in ways that were disrespectful, reckless, and out of touch with the world around them. But it wasn’t all of them; some are trying, yet others feel like they’re falling short, and it’s hard not to notice.

Today, I went to the local grocery store to pick up a few things. As I walked around, I couldn’t help but notice even more brokenness around me—drugged-up individuals, drunk drivers swerving recklessly, and people who seemed so lost in their own pain and confusion that they could barely function in society. I began to wonder—am I the one searching for them, or are they somehow drawn to me? Am I supposed to be offering a lesson, or am I simply a witness to the despair around me?

I started to think: if I don’t make my world a better place, will I continue to see the sadness surrounding me? Was this a wake-up call, a pitstop on the journey of my life? I looked at my puppy, who has so much more than any other puppy could ever need. She’s spoiled, honestly—getting thousands spent on her household goods, clothes, and even toys. But then I thought about the people I see every day: those who can barely scrape by, dragging old blankets, owing shopkeepers for basic necessities, and living in dilapidated homes that once had pride. Their streets are broken, their irrigation systems failing, and they’re living in darkness, literally and figuratively.

It dawned on me—am I really living in a world that feels so far from the “first world” I’ve grown used to? Is it that my eyes are now wide open, and I’m seeing the full extent of the damage around me? The rich continue to rise above, and those who have the means to help don’t, often out of fear or indifference. We’re a broken society, unable to fix itself for so many reasons—poverty, inequality, corruption, and even spiritual warfare that feels so pervasive.

Who is going to repair the cracks in this broken system? I’m overwhelmed, distraught even, by the scale of the damage. I feel like I’m watching a movie, a film where I’m seeing the true state of the world for the first time. It’s not a movie, though—it’s real life. It’s my life.

Am I supposed to learn something from all this? What lesson is there to be learned in all this pain, brokenness, and suffering? Life choices and their consequences are damning, and the truth is stark. I feel helpless and unsure of what I can do to make a difference. Am I meant to just appreciate what I have at the moment, knowing that there’s so much more brokenness out there?

I wish I had the answers, but the more I reflect, the more I realize that the cracks in society are so vast and deep, it’s almost impossible to fix them all. But maybe the lesson here is that while I can’t change the world overnight, I can start by doing what I can—whether it’s offering a listening ear, helping where I’m able, or just being kind in a world that so often feels devoid of kindness. Maybe that’s where it all begins.

Sometimes, just acknowledging the brokenness is the first step in healing.