Some news arrives softly, almost politely, and yet rearranges the entire weight of the day.
Someone I care about deeply told me that a person he loves has been diagnosed with cancer. It began as a routine check-up. Nothing alarming. Then the doctor called and said, we need to talk in person. They went together. They sat side by side. They heard the word together.
There is something profoundly heavy about receiving such news—about having to accept it, digest it, and somehow learn to live alongside it. I sincerely hope that she recovers as soon as possible, fully and gently. Still, the moment itself lingers in my mind.
She is a young woman. A mother of two. A life already full of responsibilities, care, and silent endurance. As a woman, this hurt me deeply. We already begin life several steps behind in a world that rarely plays fair with us. And to see a woman asked to carry this kind of pain feels particularly cruel.
But there was another thought that followed, quieter and more personal.
I imagined myself in the same situation. God forbid but if I had gone for a routine check and received that same phone call, telling me to come in, I would have gone alone. I would have walked into that room alone. I would have heard the words alone. There would be no arms waiting for me to collapse into. No one beside me to cry with, to hold my hand when the room suddenly tilted. I would have had to gather myself alone—wipe my own tears, steady my own breath, convince myself to stand up again. And then I would have gone back to my son. Alone. Carrying everything quietly, because that is what single mothers do.
This realization unsettled me more than I expected. Not in a dramatic way, but in a slow, aching one. It reminded me how invisible loneliness can be, how strength is often mistaken for having no need for support, and how I have to move through life carrying unbearable things without witnesses.
For the first time, I am acknowledging something I had never fully allowed myself to see: how alone I truly am when life demands the heaviest courage.
Selcan
