You think you know someone’s story—until you walk through their silence.
Not their highlight reel.
Not their curated captions.
But the nights they didn’t sleep.
The jobs they lost.
The prayers they whispered through clenched teeth.
You think you understand their choices—until you feel the weight of their grief.
The betrayal they never spoke of.
The addiction they hid behind smiles.
The spiritual warfare they endured alone.
We say “walk a mile in their shoes.”
But some shoes aren’t made for walking.
Some are soaked in trauma.
Some are steel-toed for survival.
Some are barefoot on burning ground.
So before you judge—pause.
Before you gossip—pray.
Before you assume—ask.
Because empathy isn’t weakness.
It’s warfare.
It’s choosing to see the unseen.
To honor the pain that shaped the posture.
To love the soul beneath the armor.

I will not judge what I haven’t carried.
I will not shame what I haven’t survived.
I choose empathy. I choose grace.
Even when the shoes don’t fit.”