“Happiest Person”
I gently folded the certificate of my 10th grade superlative and hid it in my locker. I texted my friend yet another lame excuse for why I wouldn’t be at lunch before walking to the most secluded bathroom my high school offered. I pulled my feet onto the toilet seat in one of the stalls and felt grateful for 5th period lunch. I spent those 30 minutes not eating, but instead escaping from the ultimate exhaustion: pretending to be okay.
Just a month before I was awarded the title of happiest person, my dad very suddenly decided to leave my family to move across the country and marry another woman. As a fifteen-year-old girl, this was beyond confusing. A dad was supposed to be someone who always chose you. Mine didn’t. I internalized his decision, filing it away as a reflection of who I was: hard to love, easy to leave.
I didn’t tell anyone. Not my best friend, not my boyfriend, not even my journal. Admitting the pain would only make it worse. I spent the days convincing the world I was okay only to go to bed at night feeling ashamed, unloved, alone. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and seeing someone so completely broken. And yet, everyone else saw me as not just happy, but as the happiest person in the entire grade.
As I navigate college, I find myself embarrassingly wrapped up in my own life. My schedule, my struggles, my brain has a way of neglecting everything around me. But every so often, I experience a shattering reminder of life outside myself. Last week, someone in my community took his life. I've had a hard time processing this news.
How can we so clearly see a broken arm, but completely fail to see an entirely broken person?
I've been struggling to find a reason for why things like this happen, to extrapolate meaning from something so painful and tragic. After sitting with these thoughts for a few days, I still don’t have an answer. But I think at the very least, we can take it as a reminder to be nothing but kind, loving, and attentive to those around us.
Take a minute to think about everything in your life that you have ever struggled with. Take a second to think about everything you’re going through even just right now. It’s terrifying to realize what we can endure with no one ever knowing. Now, look around and remember that every single person has scars you would never be able to see, pain you couldn’t even imagine.
And if you are the one feeling like the pain is too much right now, know that you are worth another day. While I’ve grown a lot since my sophomore year of high school, sometimes I still find that broken girl in the mirror. My hard times still find a way to convince me that I’m hard to love, easy to leave. That I'm weak, unlovable, alone. But we’re not. You are strong, needed, loved beyond capacity.
And as a gentle reminder for us all, it’s far too easy to become immersed in ourselves and miss what’s right in front of us. But I am asking you to do everything in your power to fight this. We shouldn’t have to die to finally be recognized and appreciated. Ask people how they’re really, truly doing. Follow up with friends about difficult things they confide and trust you with. Please, actively check up on the people you care about.
Because sometimes, the most broken people pass as the happiest. Sometimes, silence is the most deafening cry for help of all.