Do you ever really want to check in with someone and then somehow talk yourself out of it? You think, I’ll just ask if they’re okay. It should be that simple. But then your mind gets involved. They probably don’t want to hear from me. What if they think I’m weird for checking in again? Maybe I care more than I should. And so you don’t send the message, even though something deep down is telling you to. Or is it just me who overthinks things like this?

Sometimes you meet someone and you just know, deep down, that they’re a good person. I can’t really explain it. There’s simply something in them that you recognise. Something kind. Something rare. I’m not saying they always make the right choices or that they’re perfect, because that’s not reality. None of us are perfect. And if you think you are... well, I rest my case.

But there’s something about them that makes you think, Yeah, there’s something special about this person. Even if you don’t know them as well as you’d like to, and even if part of you sometimes wonders whether they’re secretly judging you, you still can’t shake the feeling that, underneath everything, they’re genuinely good. And perhaps that’s why you care.

But somehow, even caring has become complicated. There seems to be this strange, invisible line around how much we’re allowed to care about another person. Cross it and the noise begins. That’s a bit weird. Why do you care so much? What’s it got to do with you? Maybe nobody has actually said any of those things. Sometimes it’s simply a voice we’ve absorbed over the years, warning us not to be too open, too sincere or too much.

So we hold back. We act less concerned than we really are because caring too visibly somehow feels more embarrassing than not caring at all. It’s almost like there are two voices inside me. One saying, Check in. Make sure they’re okay. Just see how they are. And the other saying, No. Leave them alone. They don’t want to hear from you.

And yes, I know I’m probably overthinking all of this. I often do. But is caring really such a bad thing? I stop myself from checking in because I start wondering whether I’m being a bit weird. Maybe it isn’t normal to care this much. Maybe I’m crossing some invisible boundary that everybody else seems to understand but me.

And yet, when I sit quietly with myself, away from all the noise in my head, I think, Why shouldn’t I care? Why do I feel as though caring needs an explanation? Why do I need to prove that I’ve somehow earned the right to be concerned about another human being?

I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I am a little weird. I know that. But maybe this wouldn’t even be seen as weird. Maybe it would simply be seen for what it is: one person noticing another and wanting to know that they’re okay. Like, properly okay.

And then my mind starts again. But why would they tell you how they really are? You haven’t earned the right to expect that kind of honesty from them. They’ll probably just think you’re prying. But perhaps that’s the problem. Checking in with someone doesn’t mean they have to open up, explain themselves or tell you everything they’re going through. They can say, “I’m fine.” They can change the subject. They can choose not to reply at all. 

God damn. Maybe I just need to be a little braver. Maybe I need to stop listening to all the noise in my head and reach out when something tells me to. Not because I expect anything in return. Not because I believe I can fix everything. Simply because I care.

And yeah, maybe they’ll think I’m a bit strange. But is that really such a bad thing? Maybe they’ll reply with a quick “I’m fine,” and that’ll be the end of it. But surely being thought of as a little weird for caring is better than staying silent and wondering whether I should have said something... isn’t it? 🩷