We’re In A Kindness Drought

I think we’re in a kindness drought.

I’m not talking about an absence of those heartwarming activations you always see online: pay-it-forward coffees at your local café or when a complete stranger chases you down the street to return your forgotten umbrella or water bottle.

I’m talking about empathising with your own friends about their rough day at work, or when somebody has been open and vulnerable about a moment in the life, or extending an ounce of compassion for somebody trying to keep up with societal levels of productivity while chronically ill. And they’re met with vitriol from online strangers all too happy to publicly slate somebody they don’t know, or make jokes at the expense of real people for the sake of clout or going viral, or worse: silence.

One of my best friends and I were talking about friendship (I know, what’s new Michelle?) and how we’ve been treated in past friendships or acquaintance-ships. And? Well, it wasn’t great. Having had many tricky friendships or one-sided relationships in the past, I prioritise the friendships that I do have as though it’s the most important commodity in my life. And it is. Friendship is incredibly precious. Yet, we both regaled tales of how we’ve been left behind in certain friendships. I’m not talking about growing adrift because of distance or life milestones – we actually live 5,500 miles apart! – but actively feeling and being pushed away. There was the time each of us were battling difficult health issues and sharing them with our respective friends only to be met with a) silence (her friends), and b) ignored in favour of somebody’s new ASOS haul in the group chat. In both of our experiences, the friendships ended due to a bread-crumbing of other small but strange actions. Constantly talking about group outings that I never received an invite for? Making endless digs about how I ate (I’m vegan – yay!) or what I wore (secondhand or responsibly made clothes only!)? It wasn’t adding up. Or, actually, it was adding up, to people that simply didn’t care about me or how they made me feel.

Then, there’s the litany of inhumane treatment in the name of protecting one’s peace, particularly in our post-pandemic ‘new normal’. It’s completely normalised to sack off things that don’t bring you peace (which I am in favour of! Say no to the meetings that could be emails!). It’s becoming normal to use thinly veiled therapy speak to justify crappy behaviour in the name of self-care. It often feels as though protecting one’s peace and maintaining basic kindness and common decency can’t go hand in hand. People, the two are not mutually exclusive. And, recently, it feels as though protecting one’s peace now takes precedence over simple things like being there for your friend in need. It’s unbelievable to me that putting other first, sometimes, is brand-new information to so many people. Just a few weeks ago, a friend mentioned they were feeling lonely and their house was quiet, so I jumped at the chance to pop over and have a catch-up. Their surprise took me by surprise, because popping by unannounced is ‘our thing’ and I realised that, by default, she’d assumed that none of us would act on her small message. The same went for our other friend, who’s recently moved: she was surprised that we all offered to help pack, move, look after the dogs, get a food shop in. When did kindness become something so rare?

Amidst all of this, it’d be remiss of me not to mention the ongoing genocide in Gaza and how jarring and completely out of body it feels to do my small part to help Palestinians in help, while our government and world leaders idly stand by or support the ravaging of their lands. When did so many people lose their humanity? How is it possible that we can let hundreds of thousands of people starve, be persecuted and die? It feels as though seismic global situations are diluted to ‘just another meme’ or ‘another thing somebody didn’t have on their bingo card’. Where is our care and compassion for other people? We’re slipping dangerously into a society rampant with individualism, hellbent on skimming over little things, like kindness and gratitude, and big things, like climate change and genocide. Of course, I’m a big champion for appreciating our little lives as well as advocating for causes that support fighting climate change and for ending the genocide in Gaza, but it’s beginning to feel as though I can’t hold on on my own for much longer.

Without kindness, it’s difficult to comprehend where the human race heads next. I can’t help but think a little compassion, a little empathy and humanity could go a long long way.