Have you ever noticed how a dozen pleasant interactions can be completely overshadowed by one negative one?
I certainly have.
I can be having the most wonderful morning. The sun is shining, I’ve enjoyed a lovely walk, and almost everyone I pass smiles, says “Good morning,” or returns my greeting with warmth. Those little moments of human connection fill my cup. They remind me that, despite everything we hear, most people are kind.
Yet somehow, it only takes one person to change the entire tone of my day. One person who looks straight at me and doesn’t smile back. One person who ignores my cheerful “Good morning.” One person who seems to look right through me, as though I don’t exist. Suddenly, that’s the interaction I carry with me.
I replay it over and over in my mind. Did I say something wrong? Did I catch them at a bad moment? Was it me? How can someone look directly at another human being and simply ignore them?
The truth is, I could never do that. If someone greeted me, I would respond. Even if I was tired, distracted, or having a difficult day, I would struggle not to acknowledge them. To me, it feels rude not to.
But here’s where things become interesting.
Often, I don’t just wonder why they ignored me—I create a whole story around it.
As a larger lady, I sometimes find myself assuming that the fit runners striding past must be judging me. Perhaps they think I’m not good enough. Perhaps they assume I don’t share their attitude towards health and fitness. Maybe I’m somehow beneath their notice.
The reality is, I have absolutely no evidence that any of this is true.
I have simply filled in the blanks.
Other times, I decide that something about me doesn’t fit with something about them. I create a narrative in my head and then carry the emotional burden of a story that may never have existed in the first place.
What I’m slowly learning is that not everything is about me.
Perhaps that runner is focused on their breathing.
Perhaps they’re lost in thought.
Perhaps they’ve just received bad news.
Perhaps they’re painfully shy.
Perhaps they, too, have experienced rejection and have built invisible walls to protect themselves.
Or perhaps they simply didn’t hear me.
The older I get, the more I realise that we are all carrying things that nobody else can see.
Yes, it’s important to be kind. A smile costs nothing. A greeting can brighten someone’s day. A moment of acknowledgement can make a stranger feel seen.
But it’s equally important not to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders when others fail to offer the same kindness in return.
Not every silence is a rejection.
Not every missed greeting is a judgment.
Not every unsmiling face is aimed at us.
Sometimes people are struggling. Sometimes they’re distracted. Sometimes they’re having a bad day.
And sometimes, their behaviour belongs to them, not to us.
So I’m practising something new. When someone doesn’t smile back, I’m trying not to write a story around it. I’m trying not to assume the worst. I’m trying to let their moment remain theirs and not make it mine.
After all, if ten people smiled and one didn’t, perhaps the real question is this:
Why am I giving the one person more power than the ten who were kind?
That’s a lesson I’m still learning, but I think it’s one worth sharing.
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