Why do I always invalidate my own pain and feel so much burden when I hear of the suffering of others. I tell myself I have no right to feel sad when someone people are going through worse?

You’re not alone in this. Many compassionate people, especially those with high empathy, struggle with what psychologists call "comparative suffering": the belief that your pain is "less valid" because others have it "worse." But pain isn’t a competition. Your feelings matter, even amid others’ struggles. Let’s gradually see why this happens and how to soften the burden. 1. Empathic Overload Your brain’s neuron system which helps you "feel" others’ emotions might be working overtime. While empathy connects us, absorbing others’ pain without boundaries can lead to vicarious trauma, a state where their suffering feels like your own. 2. Moral Self-Criticism Thoughts like “I shouldn’t complain” might stem from hyper-responsibility, a common trait in people who prioritize caregiving. Your inner critic mistakes self-compassion for selfishness. 3. Emotional Minimization This is a survival tactic. By downplaying your pain (“It’s not that bad”), you avoid confronting vulnerability. But dismissing your feelings trains the brain to treat them as irrelevant over time. Pain isn’t measured in units. Imagine two people drowning: one in an ocean, another in a bathtub. Both need air. Saying “I shouldn’t struggle because their ocean is bigger” denies your right to breathe. When you invalidate your pain, you reinforce emotional neglect patterns toward yourself and are putting yourself at risk of burnout from over-empathizing. Next time when you feel like this again: 1. Recognize your feelings Acknowledge the conflict aloud: “Part of me feels guilty for hurting when others are too—but both can be true.” 2. Practice “Compassionate Detachment” - Visualize placing others’ pain in a glass bowl. You can see it, care about it, but don’t have to hold it. - Repeat: “Their struggle doesn’t erase mine.” 3. Set “Empathy Boundaries” - After hearing someone’s hardship, pause to check in with yourself: “What do I need right now?” - Tell yourself:“I can care without collapsing.” 4. Remember, Pain isn’t hierarchical, it’s collective. Your sadness doesn’t “steal” validity from others’; it’s part of being human. Your pain matters. Not because it’s “better” or “worse,” but because you matter. The world needs your compassion, but it needs you to save some for yourself, too. Take care, and you’ve got this.

Trust is a delicate thing, built slowly over time through consistent actions and mutual understanding. It begins with small steps, allowing others the space to reveal who they truly are, without the pressure of needing to prove their trustworthiness all at once. It’s a process that requires patience, reflection and experience. And sometimes trusting others is also about trusting yourself enough to make the right choices when it comes to who deserves your trust. It’s a dance but one worth learning.

What you're describing is something many kind-hearted people feel: you carry not only your own pain but also the weight of others’ suffering. It’s common to believe that our pain doesn’t "count" because someone else has it worse. But the truth is pain is not a competition. Just because someone else is hurting more doesn’t make your hurt less real. You wouldn’t tell a friend, “Don’t cry, others have it worse,” right? You’d sit with them. You deserve to offer yourself that same care. You can care deeply about others and still honor your own emotions. In fact, you’ll show up even more compassionately for the world if you don’t ignore your own wounds. Denying your sadness won’t heal it, it only buries it. Feeling this burden might also mean you're emotionally exhausted or taking in more than your heart can hold. It’s okay to set boundaries around how much news or sorrow you absorb. You’re allowed to care without carrying everything.