we all try
I recently took a trip on shrooms that cracked open some deep introspective revelations. I used to believe that by keeping a positive attitude, I could ensure that all of my trips would be "good" ones. But this time, I was blindsided by an emotional wave that didn’t care about my mindset.
At first, I was riding high—I even saw Kaytranada perform live, which was a dream come true for a fleeting moment. But before I knew it, everyone around me was already talking about the next party, critiquing the show, or finding something new to chase. It hit me how quickly we move on, even from the things we once craved.
I ended up arguing with someone for hours about the importance of living in the moment, which, in hindsight, was extremely ironic considering I wasn’t present myself—I was lost in trying to prove a point.
But the last part of my trip? That’s where things shifted. I felt something deep and unshakable settle into my spirit—an emotion that wasn’t tied to my body but weighed heavy on my soul. I found myself slouched in the couch, a sense of hopelessness sinking in. Over and over, I muttered, "I’m trying my best. I’m giving everything I can give." And then, the question hit me:
“Is this really all you’ve got?”
My heart responded immediately: "Yes."
I realized that I am doing the best I can. But in that moment, I couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness. The phrase “I’m trying my best” usually comes with an invisible question attached: “Why don’t they believe me?” How can I get them to see that I am giving everything I have to offer.
That question has haunted me for a long time. Whether it’s about being seen or proving myself, the emotions wrapped around those thoughts are some of the most painful and confusing I've ever had to confront.
On this trip, though, I finally faced it head-on. And then, something comforting whispered back—a thought about sonder: If I’m feeling this way, if I’m trying my best, then maybe everyone else is too.
That realization lifted a portion of my suffering. It was like a window opened, and for the first time, I could see the truth.
We’re all doing the best we can. All of us, without exception. There are no enemies, no “bad” people—just people navigating difficult situations, trying to survive and make sense of the chaos the best way they know how.
Our family, our partners, our friends, even our children—each of us is doing what we can with what we have. And it hurts like hell when those we love don’t see it. It stings when you give everything to someone, and they say it’s not enough. When you’re vulnerable and share a piece of yourself that took everything to reveal, only for it to be brushed aside like it was nothing.
We long for a simple "thank you" or, maybe more than that, an apology. Something that says, “I see your effort. I see your pain.” But often, those acknowledgments don’t come. And when they don’t, it can feel like you’re shouting into a void. You wonder,
“Am I even worth it?”
From what I’ve learned so far, the answer to that question isn’t about whether they see you the way you want to be seen. It’s about knowing that they, too, are doing their best. Even when it falls short of your expectations. Even when it’s not the way you want to be loved.
It might not always be enough to satisfy every need or desire, but it’s still good enough. And more importantly—you are good enough. You’re more than enough. You’re incredible, and you are loved.
We’re all just trying our best.
