A few years ago, my family survived a major explosion. Even though I've done a lot of work to heal emotionally from the experience, just typing out the word “survivor” makes me feel like an imposter. Though the explosion knocked me off my feet and left us covered with a thin layer of dust, we were not injured and our house was only minimally damaged. 

So I struggle to say we survived. Because compared to what others experienced, my trauma doesn't feel as valid. 

This might be an extreme example, but I find it's a common coping mechanism in the global worker community. We compare our experiences with others' and then minimize our struggles because there is always someone else that we know who had it harder. That culture is more closed, their medical problem is more serious, their living situation is rougher. When the infrastructure of our country was collapsing and we were living with only a few hours of electricity a day, I felt like such a fraud complaining, knowing I have colleagues in other parts of the world who are living with no electricity at all. But I was struggling. 

Proverbs 14:10 reads, “Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy.” 

Many commentaries focus on the individuality of pain and joy, that no one else can perfectly understand it. But as I was reading different articles about trauma and grief, I came across a perspective on this verse that I love. “Your story is the worst because it happened to you” (Bellevue Christian Counseling, link posted below).  

Our struggles and pain and heartache and grief are not put on a scale and weighed against those of others. Comparing our struggles with the struggles of others as a way of minimizing our experience means we lose the opportunity to be cared for. As Jesus so gently reminds us in His sermon on the mount, if God cares about flowers in a field, do we really think any struggle we might face is too small for Him? (Matthew 6:25-34).