All the whining and rumminating does not equal weakness.

One could read my story and think: this guy is weak, maybe dramatizing what everyone else calls life. Hard things happen to everyone, after all. And yes, I remind myself often — at least I don’t have cancer, I’m not homeless. My feet are firmly on planet earth and so I get those who might think this.

But here’s the problem: comparing myself to the lowest bar of suffering is a slippery slope. That mindset excuses compromise. It leads to accepting situations that quietly destroy you.

I could have told myself: So what if my marriage is filled with ridicule, anger, and no intimacy? I have the country club, travel, and a decent life. But here’s the truth: the joy of those “bright sides” is stolen when they’re set against a backdrop of disrespect. What’s the point of aiming for comfort if it comes at the cost of peace? How is travel so amazing when you’re walking on eggshells the whole time?

We’ve all seen it. People settle. They stay in homes filled with anger and then drink to escape. They rationalize their health away — “thirty pounds overweight, but no issues yet,” so they postpone change. They downplay their careers — “social security will be enough, no need to push harder, go to school and fight for a job.” Compromise becomes the default once you let it take hold.

That’s not strength. That’s slow erosion.

So when I talk about drinking, about abuse in my marriage, about refusing to numb myself — it’s not weakness. It’s strength. It’s grit. It’s my refusal to lower the bar and call it “normal life.”

Life Inspired by…

Stoicism

The Luck Factor by Richard Weisman

The Blue Zones