There are moments in life when we realize we may have been given a purpose we didn’t choose but one that was meant for us all along. Sometimes, I feel my purpose might be different from others—not to stand out, not to be known or understood, but to understand. To listen. To truly see the world and people around me, even if it means I remain unseen.
I often find myself on the edges of conversations, feeling others’ emotions more deeply than they may know. I see the masks people wear to hide their pain, the forced smiles, the way their voices change when they’re trying to seem fine. Somehow, I find myself carrying these things quietly. Maybe it’s because I understand the language of silence—the words people don’t say and the feelings they keep hidden. I understand, because I have often walked in the shadows myself.
There’s a certain kind of beauty, I think, in being someone who understands others without needing to share their own story. To be the type of person who can sit in someone’s pain, in their joy, in their fears, without asking for anything in return. This is not a weakness; it is a strength I’ve come to cherish.
In a world that often craves recognition, there is quiet power in being the one who listens, who watches, who simply understands.
Of course, there are days when I, too, long to be understood—to have someone look deeply into my soul and recognize all I carry. I’ve spent hours wondering if anyone sees the quiet struggles, the unspoken hopes, and the dreams I keep close to my heart. But then I remember that maybe I was given this heart, this ability to understand because the world needs it more than it knows.
Being someone who understands comes with its kind of loneliness, a feeling that others don’t see the depth within us or the strength it takes to be this way. But maybe that’s okay. Perhaps those of us who were born to understand are not meant to be seen by everyone. Instead, we are here to hold others’ burdens, to see beyond the surface, and to find beauty in the shadows. This calling asks us to give love, comfort, and empathy, even if we may never receive them back in the same way.
So, maybe I was born to understand, not to be understood. To feel deeply, to give freely, and to hold space for those who cannot always hold it for themselves.
For these quiet purposes, I find peace, knowing that even if my own heart remains unseen, it can be a place of refuge for others. For what greater gift is there than to love without asking for anything in return? In being someone who understands, I know I am offering something the world needs: a rare kind of love that is not measured by words or recognition but by a silent strength that stands the test of time.
