I hope this gives people living with chronic pain permission to admit that the emotional load can become just as exhausting as the physical pain.
Sometimes, it takes a stranger to remind us just how heavy the weight we’ve been carrying really is.
Have you ever had one of those moments when a stranger says something so simple, yet it touches a part of you that you didn’t even realise needed comforting?
A moment when, for just a little while, you don’t have to be the strong one. You don’t have to explain yourself, hold everything together or carry the extra weight of everyday life, you can speak freely and feel heard in that moment.
Maybe it’s your mum, a mother figure, aunty or that one beautiful friend who knows how to make the world feel a little less heavy or a stranger. Someone who reminds you that you’re human, too, and that you don’t always have to be okay.
For me, it was a stranger.
A woman around my mum’s age. Her name was Judy, the same as my mum (who passed away from cancer February 2022) she had this beautiful, lively energy about her. We struck up a conversation and laughed loudly together and somehow, without even knowing my story, she helped me realise just how much I had been carrying.
And I needed that more than I knew.
The weight of being strong for too long in that moment somewhere a release a sense of being heard for the first time in a longtime by another woman who I didn’t know at all.
Living with chronic pelvic pain, endometriosis and nerve damage is something that affects so much more than your physical body.
Pain doesn’t simply exist in isolation. It follows you into your daily responsibilities, your relationships, your parenting, your work, your plans and even the quiet moments when you’re desperately trying to rest.
I have a family, three beautiful boys, a busy life and dreams I’m still working towards. I have responsibilities, deadlines, appointments and all the ordinary things that make up everyday life.
But chronic pain doesn’t care about your to-do list.
It doesn’t wait until the kids are settled, the house is clean, your work is finished or you’ve finally had a chance to catch your breath.
Sometimes, you wake up already in pain and out of sorts. Other times, you push through the day until the pain builds and builds, and you’re left wondering how you’re going to get through the next few hours.
And when the pain is bad, everything else can feel heavier, too.
You still want to be present for your children. You still want to be a good partner, keep up with your responsibilities, meet your deadlines and work towards the life you want.
So you push.
You become extra strong. You carry a little more. You find another bit of determination somewhere inside yourself, even when you’re exhausted.
Because life doesn’t stop just because you’re hurting.
But being strong for too long comes at a cost.
When your body hurts and your heart is tired, worn out you feel overwhelmed.
One of the hardest parts of chronic pain is that you can become so accustomed to pushing through that you don’t always recognise how much pressure you’re under.
You get used to adjusting your life around pain. You learn to anticipate flare-ups, work around limitations and make decisions based on what your body might allow you to do that day.
You learn to smile when you’re struggling. You try not to let people down but over time its consuming it you do at some point accidentally forget important events or dates fogged up by bad pain days. You feel guilty when you need to rest, frustrated when you can’t do what you planned, and disappointed when your body doesn’t cooperate.
And sometimes, the guilt of not being able to do everything you want to do becomes another burden on top of the pain itself.
There are days when the pain is completely outside your control. You’re doing everything you can to manage it, waiting for medication to help, trying to find some relief while the world carries on around you.
You can love your family with every part of your heart and still feel overwhelmed.
You can be grateful for your life and still be exhausted by the effort it takes to live it.
You can be strong and still need someone to hold a little space for you.
These things can all be true at once.
And sometimes, when everything piles up, you don’t want another solution, another responsibility or another reminder of what needs to be done.
You just want to retreat from the world for a little while.
To stop carrying everything.
To breathe without having to be strong.
Not because you don’t love your life, but because you’re tired of having to fight so hard just to get through an ordinary day.
Chronic pain is not a choice. And neither is the exhaustion that can come from constantly having to work around it.
A stranger named Judy
I was having a shocker of a day.
I was sitting there waiting for pain medication late evening to help with a massive flare-up that was completely outside my control. I felt miserable, physically uncomfortable and emotionally worn down.
It was one of those moments when you’ve already used up so much of yourself just trying to get through the day.
Then I met Judy.
She was around my mum’s age, shared her name, and had this lively, beautiful energy that drew me in. We chatted and laughed, and for a little while, the heaviness I had been carrying didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.
She didn’t know what I had been dealing with. She didn’t know the pain, the appointments, the responsibilities or the effort it takes to keep showing up when your body is fighting against you.
She was simply a kind woman having a conversation with another woman. I felt nourished in that moment refreshed, I laughed, got inspired and stopped feeling alone for a moment.
Yet her encouragement and positivity gave me something I hadn’t realised I was missing.
She made me smile. A genuine smile.
And in that moment, I felt the weight of everything I had been carrying in that moment became a little more visible to me.
It wasn’t that my pain had disappeared. My circumstances hadn’t suddenly changed, and I still had to navigate everything waiting for me.
But something shifted.
For a moment, I wasn’t just a mum trying to keep everything together. I wasn’t someone waiting for pain relief, trying to manage another flare-up or worrying about what the semi judgy pharmacist was thinking.
I was simply a woman having a lovely moment with another woman.
And that was enough to remind me how much I needed that nourishment.
Perhaps it was the familiarity of her name, the resemblance to my mum’s generation, or the warmth of her personality. Perhaps it was a little of everything.
Whatever it was, I walked away thinking about my mum and how much I miss having that person I can turn to when life feels heavy.
You know that feeling when you speak to your mum, or someone who feels like a mother figure, and for a moment you don’t have to be the one holding everything together?
You can let your guard down. You can share the things weighing on your mind. You can be honest about how hard things are without feeling like you need to justify yourself.
You don’t have to be extra strong.
Sometimes, you just need someone who makes you feel a little less alone.
I think that’s what made my encounter with Judy so special.
We all need somewhere to put the weight down
I wonder how many people living with chronic pain feel this way.
How many are quietly navigating their own battles while still raising children, caring for loved ones, working, studying and trying to maintain some sense of normality?
How many people are exhausted from being the reliable one, the strong one, the one who keeps going?
And how many of us have become so good at carrying everything that the people around us don’t realise how heavy it has become?
We don’t always need someone to fix our circumstances. We don’t always need advice or answers.
Sometimes, we need a conversation that makes us laugh. Someone who listens without judgement. A friend who checks in and genuinely wants to know how we’re doing. A person who reminds us that we’re allowed to have difficult days, too.
And if you’re lucky enough to have someone like that in your life, hold them close.
If you’re that person for someone else, never underestimate the impact of your kindness.
You might think you’re just having a chat, offering a compliment or sharing a little positivity.
But you might be giving someone a moment of relief in a life that has felt relentless.
You might be reminding them of a person they miss.
You might be helping them feel seen when they’ve spent so long feeling as though they have to manage everything alone.
Judy probably had no idea how much that little conversation meant to me.
But I do.
A reminder for those of us who keep pushing through
If you’re living with chronic pelvic pain, endometriosis, nerve damage or any invisible illness, I want you to know something.
You don’t have to earn your rest by reaching breaking point.
You don’t have to prove how much pain you’re in before you’re allowed to acknowledge that you’re struggling.
You don’t have to be grateful for your life every second of every day, and you don’t have to feel guilty for finding parts of it incredibly hard.
You can love your children and still need a break.
You can love your partner and still need support.
You can have dreams, goals and plans for your future while also needing to slow down today.
And you can be the strongest person in the room while desperately needing someone to remind you that you don’t have to do everything alone.
Strength isn’t always pushing through.
Sometimes, strength is admitting that you’re tired. It’s allowing yourself to rest, accepting help, being honest about your limits and giving yourself the same compassion you would offer someone you love.
I’m still learning that myself.
Meeting Judy reminded me that sometimes, the smallest moments of human connection can reach the parts of us that have been carrying too much for too long.
I didn’t need her to understand my entire story.
I just needed that moment of warmth, laughter and encouragement.
And for a little while, the weight felt lighter.
I went into that conversation feeling miserable, and I came away smiling.
I’ll carry that moment with me.
Not because it changed my circumstances, but because it reminded me that even in the middle of a difficult day, there can still be moments of unexpected kindness.
Sometimes, a stranger can remind you of home.
Sometimes, a simple conversation can give you permission to exhale.
And sometimes, when you’ve been strong for far too long, all it takes is one beautiful human connection to remind you that you’re allowed to put some of that weight down.
So, if you’re the one who is always holding everything together, who helps everyone else and keeps pushing through even when you’re hurting, I hope you find your Judy.
Someone who makes you laugh. Someone who reminds you of love. Someone who lets you be a person, not just the one who has to be strong.
And until that moment comes, please remember that you deserve that kindness from yourself, too.
You are allowed to be tired.
You are allowed to need support.
You are allowed to put the weight down.
Even if it’s just for a little while.
With love, from one chronic pain warrior to another. ❤️
Cassie x
