We all are struggling.

Some just hid it so well. Under lock and key. Never allowing anyone to see.

That friend always put-together, showered, and dressed with a ready smile, is waiting on that test result. Cannot eat or sleep for the what ifs are taking up every inch of space in her mind.

That Instagram perfect couple. The one that writes the perfect caption to the perfect filtered picture is on rocky ground in a rocky marriage pretending to be perfect.

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That successful college friend. The one who gets rave reviews and lines to get in, fighting for his life as mental illness and addiction buries him alive.

That young family with the 2.5 kids. Two jobs. Two cars. Two daycare bills. Two commutes. Too little money until the next paycheck and stretching it to payday might not be enough.

That working mom who shows up to the kids practice with the snacks and drinks, never missing a step, is barely holding it all in. The tears cannot even fall because the exhaustion demands all her energy.

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That man at the gym. Fit. Toned. Athletic body. Hating what he sees in the mirror. Hearing the demons screaming in his head again.

That free-spirited, world traveler, highly demanded doctor is lonely, bone-weary, and very tired.

That wildly cool social media influencer. The one whose spouse and kids look straight out of a magazine. House decked out with the current trends. Yeah, we all know that one.

The one who cries in the shower due to depression.

That popular, friendly, outgoing woman is insecure, comparison-obsessed, and searching for something other than what is present.

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That person in line. That person in the car behind you. That person sitting next to you. That person walking into work. That person happy and fulfilled right now. That person who loves and worships God.

That woman who shares her story, the good, the bad, the ugly, letting others in so they, too, can have hope in their story. She is angry, exhausted, defeated, and wondering if anything she does makes a difference. Grief lingers. Hurting her over and over again.

We are all broken. We are all hurting. We are all crying. We are all suffering.

This post originally appeared on Lovely in the Dark



Katie Weber

A momma of 2 young boys whose days are filled with wrestling, running, and noise. A Nebraska native with a love of coffee, the Lord, music, a good romance novel, movies, and dessert. Just trying to figure out single motherhood, to navigate divorce and co-parenting, to live and thrive with depression and anxiety, all the while finding the lovely in this life. Follow along for more at Lovely in the Dark.