Everything we hear is an opinion. Everything we see is a perspective.

I once read that sentence, and it lodged itself in my mind as if it had always been there, just waiting to be seen. Sometimes, a single thought holds the power of a mirror—it shows you what you thought you understood, but under a different light.

Since then, that phrase has echoed in my mind whenever I hear judgments disguised as advice, whenever someone looks at my life from afar and decides what I “should” be doing, or whenever the world feels like it’s spinning in chaos and everyone is shouting from their own truth.

The weight of someone else's gaze

We live in a world that often confuses having an opinion with having knowledge. We’re taught to judge quickly, to have answers, to believe that what we see is what is. But real reality—deep, human, layered reality—rarely shows itself so easily. Who can truly understand the choices someone makes if they haven’t walked with a wounded soul in those very same shoes?

My path doesn’t require approval

Lately, I’ve felt that some people believe I should be “fighting” my illness differently. As if there were only one valid way to go through this process, theirs. But the truth is: I haven’t given up. I care for my body every day. I nourish myself. I trust in science. I'm still on treatments, chemotherapy, weekly IVs, and continue with what—for now—is working for me. I accept, without fear, whatever may come. But I also stand firm in this: I will not take dog dewormer, or cat’s claw, or any miracle cure that others want to impose on me out of their own fears or their own need to 'save' me.

Because this is what many people forget: I get to choose how I live my life. I choose what to believe in, how to care for myself, what brings me joy, and where to place my energy. And if that doesn’t align with someone else’s expectations, that’s okay. I don’t need their approval. I just need my peace.

I know—most of these suggestions come from a place of love, from a genuine desire to help. Don't get me wrong, I’m grateful that people think of me, that they want me alive, want the best for me. But this is my body, my story, and my decision. And what I need most right now isn’t a list of solutions, but respect. Being there for me doesn’t mean telling me what to do. It means being close—even in silence—while I walk the path I’ve chosen for myself.

The world, seen from afar

I feel the same when I see the news—wars, conflicts, injustices. And no, I won’t speak on things I don’t truly understand. I’m not there. I don’t have all the pieces. But I do know this: every conflict holds as many versions as people living through it. That doesn’t mean everything is relative—It means the truth is never flat. It’s layered, uncomfortable, and deeply human.

We cling to certainty from a distance, without having felt the fear, the loss, or the pain of being there. And in the process, we lose empathy. We forget that what we see is just one part—a viewpoint, a frame, a perspective.

And while we argue among ourselves, each convinced we hold the truth, here’s what’s really clear: politicians don’t give a damn about you. Let me say it again: politicians don’t give a damn about you.

So maybe caring for one another should matter more than being right.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: even the messiest things can be transformed. My dad used to say, “Everything can always be improved.”Sure, he said it with the weight of his own traumas behind it (and oh, there were many!), but that phrase… stuck with me. And now, I give it new meaning. Because while we may not be able to change everything, we can change how we see it. And sometimes, that changes everything.

Truth isn’t imposed—it’s embraced

Maybe that’s why this quote struck such a chord in me. Because it reminds me that behind every choice, there’s a story. That every person we encounter carries a world we can’t see. And that living with awareness means acknowledging the limits of our own point of view.

I don’t have all the answers. But I’m learning to live with the questions. And along the way, I choose to surround myself with people who know how to stay without fixing, look without judging, and listen without needing to be right.

Because what the world needs right now isn’t more certainty—it’s more empathy.

More spaces where we can say, “I don’t understand it, but I’m here."

Where we’re willing to see through someone else’s eyes,

set our egos down for a moment,

and realize that true connection doesn’t come from convincing—it comes from understanding.

In the end, everything we hear is an opinion.

Everything we see is a perspective.

But what we feel—that can be a bridge, one we could cross together. 🫶

Thank you, as always, for your support, your love, and continue reading my posts.

With all my Love,

Malena 🌿💕