The Only Thing That’s Real
Suffering
I know I'm late getting this post out. Part of that was because I recently moved into a new home and have been navigating some family matters that pulled my attention away from the brand. But the main reason is that, since my last post, I've spent a lot of time reflecting, processing, and wrestling with this topic.
These are simply my thoughts—not absolute answers. I'd genuinely love to hear yours, so if anything here resonates with you or challenges you, don't hesitate to reach out.
Suffering in Silence is the name of my brand. In my last blog, I wrote about silence—how silence often makes me overthink, fuels my anxiety, and pushes me to fill every quiet moment with noise from the TV, my phone, or my record player. I was grateful for the messages from so many of you who related to that uncomfortable void.
Today, I want to talk about the other "S" in SiS: suffering.
Suffering is defined as "the conscious endurance of physical, mental, or emotional pain and distress." Every person experiences suffering, but no two experiences are exactly the same. These are a few truths that have helped me navigate my own.
Suffering Is Not Linear
Everyone experiences suffering differently.
For a long time, I compared my pain to other people's. I would ask myself whether I was justified in feeling the way I did, or I would judge whether someone else should really be struggling as much as they were. Looking back, I realize that mindset caused far more damage than I understood.
It wasn't until grief counseling that my therapist challenged me with a simple truth: just because I've experienced something doesn't mean it was harder—or easier—than what someone else has gone through.
Of course, there are objective differences. A chipped fingernail isn't the same as a broken leg. But emotionally, suffering isn't something we should rank. I grew up believing you should "tough it out" and keep moving. While resilience is important, I eventually learned that giving myself permission to grieve didn't make me weak. It allowed me to process my pain, extend compassion to others, and become someone who could genuinely support people in their own struggles.
So if you're like me—someone whose first instinct is to say, "Toughen up, buttercup"—I'd encourage you to give yourself a little grace.
Suffering Is Necessary
This was the theme I kept coming back to while studying suffering.
Why does suffering exist? Why do bad things happen to good people?
I think the answer depends on your deepest beliefs.
I grew up in the Christian faith, but I didn't truly make it my own until the end of high school and the beginning of college. During that season, the world was turned upside down by the COVID-19 pandemic. At the same time, I was grieving the loss of my grandmother—the woman who helped raise me—and my mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer.
Everything seemed to unravel at once.
That season forced me to ask questions I'd never seriously considered before: What is the purpose of all this? Why does any of this happen?
In the middle of that darkness, I had a choice. Would I continue following God, or would I walk away?
By God's grace, I found myself drawing closer to Him. Instead of grounding my identity in my circumstances, I began grounding it in His promise that one day He will wipe away every tear and make all things new.
The Problem of Pain by C. S. Lewis puts it this way:
"We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains."
That quote took on an entirely new meaning after my best friend passed away in May 2025.
Those were the darkest days of my life. There were mornings when I couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. Yet in the middle of that grief, God met me with a peace and grace that I can't fully explain.
If I'm honest, I don't think I would have sought Him so desperately had everything in my life been comfortable. I probably would have continued believing I could handle everything on my own. Pain exposed how much I needed Him.
Please don't misunderstand me—I would never wish those losses on anyone, nor would I ever choose to relive them. But I can say with confidence that God was present in the middle of my suffering, bringing comfort where nothing else could.
I also know that some people reading this have rejected God because of the pain they've experienced. If that's you, my prayer isn't that you'll simply agree with me. My prayer is that you'll encounter a Savior who loves you, meets you where you are, and will one day make all things right.
Jesus says in Matthew 11:30, "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
Today, I simply invite you to rest in the arms of your Creator.
Suffering Will One Day Make Sense
I don't have all the answers.
I don't know why every tragedy happens or why some people seem to suffer far more than others.
What I do know is that God promises a day when everything broken will be restored.
In 2 Corinthians 4:17, Paul writes:
"For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison."
I'll be honest—I still wrestle with understanding the purpose behind certain things. Sometimes we see purpose years later. Sometimes we may never understand this side of eternity.
But I believe there is purpose, even when I can't yet see it.
*As I was writing this post, my grandfather passed away.
He endured more suffering than most people I know. He grew up in the Soviet Union in an abusive home, was forced to serve as a tank operator in the Russian army, lived through poverty, immigrated to America, where he faced discrimination, lost his wife in his sixties, lost his brother to Alzheimer’s, and eventually battled Alzheimer's until the end of his life.
Yet during some of his final moments of clarity, he told me how happy he was.
He said he was content.
He told me he wouldn't trade the suffering he endured because it shaped him into the man he became.
If you ever need someone to talk to, my messages are always open.
Instagram: @sis.chicago
