I’m gentle, not weak

As a teenager I was never sensitive to these kinds of things, maybe because I was naive or just too young to really grasp how fast life can slip away.

Of course, when the person in question is family or a close friend it is difficult to see them in pain, but even seeing complete strangers lying helpless in hospital beds with the cold light above them illuminating the pain in their eyes, leaves me trying to hold back tears.

Seeing how the families of the strangers stand over the bed, with either unwavering hope or a complete look of defeat on their faces as their loved one fights to stay alive seems to stay with me for hours after witnessing it.

Having a family member in a critical condition in hospital recently and having to stand at her bedside seeing her in pain and not able to help herself get better, broke me down and I no longer wanted to go to the hospital because each time I saw her I would burst into tears.

I found myself struggling with feelings of guilt when I found it getting too unbearable to see her in such a condition, as she is the kind of woman to take control and do things for herself.

I felt as if I was letting her, the rest of the family and myself down by not being at her bed side to support her. Each time I would go to the hospital I would cry uncontrollably when I got home and see her sick and ill-looking face when I closed my eyes to go to sleep.

After a few days of this, I told my boyfriend I couldn’t handle seeing her like that anymore and he told me something that I had never thought before and that eased my feelings of guilt.

He told me that I am not weak, I am just gentle and sensitive. I had not noticed that what I was feeling was that I was weak for not wanting to go into the hospital ward.

And I realised being sensitive is not a sign of weakness, but just a different way of dealing with the troubles life throws at us.

Weakness is not getting back up when life knocks you down but a sensitive and gentle person will always get back up and keep pushing through the tough times.

He told me I was strong in other ways and even though I didn’t feel like I was supporting the family, I was actually the backbone of support by dealing with the little things like cleaning the house while family from far were staying over, cooking for them and just being around, giving hugs when they were needed and words of support to those who were losing hope.

Through doing these little things, I have been there for the rest of the family while they deal with the bigger issues of speaking to doctors and tracking her condition and now realising this, I no longer feel that my gentle nature is weakness, but just a different kind of strength.