The Power of Compassion: A Personal Perspective -

Compassion—it’s a small word for a big force, isn’t it? For a long time, I used to think compassion was reserved for saints and those patient souls who could listen to their friends rant for hours without rolling their eyes. But life taught me it’s something much deeper. Compassion is about sitting with pain—yours or someone else’s—and letting it be okay. It’s about offering understanding, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

For me, compassion wasn’t an instinct; it was a skill I had to learn through trial, error, and a lot of messy emotions. It took growing up in an alcoholic home, navigating relationships shaped by addiction, and finally learning how to show kindness to myself before I understood its real power.

I grew up in a house where chaos often came with a bottle. My dad was an alcoholic, and so was my grandpa. They weren’t mean drunks—just the kind that made you wish the floor would swallow you whole when pretty much anyone else was around. My mom kept a pretty tight lid on my dads drinking, probably because she grew up in an alcoholic home herself. While she was alive, his binges were rare—a once-a-year ordeal where he’d fall off the wagon, end up a few towns over, and lose his truck somewhere along the way.

But when my mom passed away from cancer, everything changed. My dad got lost in his grief—and in the bottle. Seeing my dad spiral like that was something I couldn’t fully grasp at the time. I was just 13, wrapped up in my own grief and trying to make sense of a world that suddenly felt so unstable. Compassion wasn’t even on my radar; survival was.

Ahhh… the ever repeating cycle

Later in life, I found myself married to not only one, but two alcoholics. Both were really great guys—as long as they weren’t drinking. But when they were, it was like being caught in the same storm I grew up in. Only now, I was the one trying to keep the boat from sinking.

For years, I thought their drinking was my responsibility—that it was my job to fix them. It took a marriage and a half to realize their struggles weren’t mine to carry. It wasn’t because I wasn’t a good enough wife, and it hadn’t been that I wasn’t a good enough daughter. Their drinking wasn’t about me—it was about them. That realization didn’t come easy, but it was the first step toward something life-changing: compassion.

It’s funny how hard it is to show yourself the same kindness you give to others. For years, I carried guilt, shame, and this nagging feeling that I wasn’t enough. Learning to forgive myself for things that were never my fault was like peeling back layers of armor I didn’t even know I was wearing.

As I started practicing compassion for myself, something shifted. I began to see the people in my life—my dad, my ex-husband, my current husband, even my younger self—not as villains or failures, but as humans struggling in their own ways. Compassion doesn’t mean excusing bad behavior. It means seeing the pain behind the choices, even when those choices hurt you. It’s understanding without letting that understanding destroy your boundaries.

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Why Compassion Matters

Compassion is what allows us to connect, to heal, and to move forward. It’s not about fixing people or solving problems—it’s about being present, about offering a safe space for someone’s pain without making it your own. Again, that was one of the really hard parts for me. How do you give that space without taking on the pain yourself? Or worse, trying to fix it for them? For me, the answer came in understanding a crucial difference: you can be present for someone’s pain without carrying it as your own. It’s not about detachment from the person or shutting yourself off, but about setting boundaries that protect your emotional well-being while still allowing you to show up with love and empathy.

This is what helped me to find that balance

Realizing That Pain Isn’t Mine to Fix
One of the hardest truths I had to accept is that I can’t fix other people’s pain. No matter how much I love them or how deeply I care, their healing journey is their own. My role is to hold space for them—to listen, to be a steady presence—but not to absorb their hurt like a sponge. Knowing this freed me from the overwhelming guilt of not being able to take their struggles away.

Practicing Active Listening Without Internalizing
I had to learn how to really listen—to hear someone’s story or pain without letting it settle into my own heart. This meant focusing on what they were saying instead of what I felt about it. I am constantly reminding myself: They need to feel heard, not rescued. That shift in mindset made it easier to stay compassionate without feeling consumed.

Setting Boundaries Doesn’t Make You Unkind
I used to think that if I stepped back or said “no,” I was being cold or unloving. But I’ve learned that setting boundaries is actually an act of compassion—both for myself and the other person. Boundaries create clarity and allow you to be a better support because you’re not running on empty.

Taking Time to Process Your Own Feelings
After supporting someone, I’d sometimes find myself drained or overwhelmed without realizing why. That’s when I started making space for my own emotions. Journaling, meditating, or even just taking a quiet walk gave me the time to process what I was feeling without letting it fester.

Reminding Myself of Their Strength
One of the most compassionate things you can do is trust that the person you’re supporting is capable of navigating their own pain and let them do it. I know this isn’t easy, but it’s not your job to carry it for them. Instead, I try to focus on being a source of encouragement, a reminder that they’re not alone in their struggle.

Learning to hold space without taking on pain is a delicate dance, and I won’t pretend I have it all figured out. Some days it’s easier than others. But what I’ve come to realize is that compassion doesn’t mean breaking yourself to save someone else—it means showing up as your whole self and believing in their ability to heal, even when it’s messy. It’s the little things: a listening ear, a kind word, a moment of patience when frustration feels easier. It’s also the big things, like choosing to forgive and let go, even when it’s hard and that seems like the last thing that you want to do.

Your Turn

Here’s my challenge for you: Practice compassion today. Maybe it’s forgiving yourself for something you’ve been holding onto. Maybe it’s being gentle with someone who’s having a rough day. Or maybe it’s as simple as reminding yourself that you’re doing the best you can. Compassion doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be real. Until next time, my compassionate rockstars, keep it brash, keep it kind, and keep it true to you.