Whose pain wins?
Why we continue to return to the practice of comparative suffering during hard times
Grief, loneliness, sadness, loss, physical pain, heart break, isolation, fear, anxiety. I think it’s safe to say that in the course of a day right now in modern life, that most of us move through this range of feelings. I mean, sometimes I move through this list in an hour!
We are taught early on in life that there are degrees of suffering. We are taught that comparative suffering is a competition worthy of engaging in. We are taught that it this comparison is useful, and I dare say, is how we determine our own value in comparison to others, especially as it relates to the amount of suffering that we are owed or entitled to.
The Health and Suffering Scale is a self‐reporting scale which measures perceived suffering in relation to health on a semantic visual analogue scale. Classical and modern test theories were applied to explore estimates of reliability and validity.
These conversations about our own description of pain between ourselves and our health care providers are one of the few opportunities in our lives to feel our own pain compared only to other pain that we, ourselves, have felt. But even this consideration has bias baked in: do we LOOK like we are in pain? The health care provider will be looking for non-verbal cues to back up our own assessment. So even here, the judgement of another on our own suffering will influence our lived experience of our own pain.
Let’s consider a few stories that we’ve been told from two of THE best selling authors around: Capitalism + The Patriarchy. These two authors love to tell us that urgency is a competition that anyone can win. They love to bait us, encourage their fave editor, Envy, to chime in. They are all very good at their jobs and it is their mastery at their purpose that fuels too much of our own suffering. Their survival, in fact, requires it.
The first story I’d like to challenge is that relationships are equitable. They are not, none of them are. Ever. And you know what, it’s quite ok. When we can stop comparing who is more tired, more depleted, more in need of care, then we can feel comfortable in caring for ourselves SO THAT we can in turn care for others. This especially applies to those of us who co-parent in partnership. We get into a contest of who DESERVES rest and care rather than being able to articulate our own needs separate from what others need from us. It’s a set up, this idea of equity in relationships. The sooner we settle into really seeing that ALL relationships have a give and take to them, then the less we judge ourselves and others. Once we arrive in this version of relationship, we can care for needs as they arise, trusting that others will do the same when we are depleted and running on empty.
The second story I’d like to challenge is that one person’s suffering is more worthy than someone else’s is and is rooted in scarcity. I believe that these two authors, Capitalism and The Patriarchy, are the real winners when we internalize the idea that one’s pain is more valued, more important, than someone else’s. This story encourages us to shop (oh, maybe if I had that day planner then I’d be more rested because I would be more organized, for example), it encourages us to withhold (oh, maybe if I was thinner than I’d be invited to more parties and then I’d not be so lonely), and it encourages us to lean into envy (oh, well, Naima seems to really have it all together over there, I bet she’s not suffering like I am, so she is having an easier time).
This story relies on the old chestnut of “not enough”. We are taught that empathy is like a tub of ice cream with a fixed or finite amount of empathy in it. So if I am feeling empathy for you, then I will give myself a smaller helping from the empathy ice cream tub because I wouldn’t want to deny you your fair share of an empathy scoop from the empathy tub. But the truth is that when we extend empathy, kindness, love, to ourselves it grows and there is MORE to go around. It’s kind of a magical expansion.
The third story we are told is that our suffering is, by definition and in historical context, less than other’s. Why are WE so special that our suffering should win? It’s not like I am surviving the European Holocaust of the 1940’s or like I’ve personally endured the experience of being an enslaved person. I mean, I have Netflix and health insurance and potable water. I need to get over it, put it away, stuff it down.
Folks, your brain and body DO NOT KNOW that your own suffering is not the holocaust. Your biology, smart at it is, cannot differentiate, and it only knows that when we are scared we need to either run, fight, or shut down. So try not to be so hard on your body, your brain, for feeling pain; it’s doing what it was designed to do.
Our adrenaline surges during hards times rarely sustain for the duration of the crisis we are living through. Modern life seems to provide one crisis after the next. We often look for sources of adrenaline outside of the crisis to keep us going, to keep us company. When we are afraid, when we are feeling unsafe, we are more likely to engage in the practice of comparing our suffering to others. It’s another way for our brains to keep the hormones that it is craving coming in a steady flow. And then when we’ve determine that someone else’s suffering is greater than our own, we block our ability to continue to feel our own suffering, and we feel more lonely, isolated, and unworthy.
There are lots of hard things happening right now, all of us are feeling this. Some of these hard things involve conflict, violence, and harm. In the ongoing, escalating harm that is happening in places, to people, that you love, I want to encourage you to resist engaging and participating in the practice of comparative suffering to justify or explain why people are behaving or feeling a certain way. That serves no one and does not help to alleviate the suffering of anyone.
What can we do about all of this? Truly? Well, I have a few ideas, perhaps one or two of them will help:
Limit your media consumption, both in duration and content. What I mean here is to limit your content exposure to reduce exposure to trauma, not to reduce your exposure to a range of perspectives.
Check in with your people, the primary relationships in your life, about how you can help each other stay nourished, rested, and supported IN PARTNERSHIP with each other based on systemic cycles of depletion rather than one person’s performance. This care worksheet is a great tool.
Sleep and prioritize your rest hygiene.
Eat food that nourishes. Truly.
If you can’t say something kind, shhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Learn how to really apologize and master the art.
Dance. Swim. Hug. Share a meal. Go for a walk. Look up a the sky. Repeat.
Onwards, y’all.