It’s cool to be kind

Must be a full moon coming, because all the unkind, mean-spirited people are coming out of the woodwork today. It started early. Too early. I dragged myself out of bed to shovel the mountain of snow that had buried Toronto overnight. They said on the radio that it was the worst snowstorm since 1967. Historic. And not in a fun, let’s-build-a-snowman kind of way. More like, let’s-ruin-everyone’s-morning kind of way.

After clearing my backyard, I moved on to my car, only to see one of my older neighbours standing there, shovel in hand. I asked if she needed help before I left for work, but she gave me a polite, tired smile and said she was fine. I spent thirty excruciating minutes trying to wiggle my little Volkswagen Beetle out of its icy prison. Adorable car, absolutely horrendous for Canadian winters. Every few minutes, I’d switch between shovelling and reversing, shovelling and reversing. My poor dad, with his right arm in a sling from recent surgery, stood out there in the cold, guiding me as best he could.

And then I noticed them. Two of my male neighbours, shovelling their driveways, watching me struggle. Watching her struggle. Do you think they offered to help? Not a chance. It was like we were invisible. How sad is it that this is the world we live in now? So selfish, so disconnected. If it had been my father, he wouldn’t have thought twice about helping. That’s just the kind of man he is. So, to the remaining good men out there, thank you.

As I finally freed my car, I made it a point to thank my oh-so-considerate neighbours for all their help. Except, I might have thrown in a well-deserved “a**holes” as I drove away. Not my proudest moment, but come on. But the day wasn’t done with me yet. Oh no.

On my way to work, I reached a snowy hill and knew, without a doubt, that my little Beetle would not make it up. So I played it safe, took the longer route. As I slowed down to make my turn, a man driving past decided to give me the finger. For what? For existing? For trying to navigate a snowstorm like everyone else? Solidarity at its absolute finest.

By the time I got to work, thirty minutes late and simmering in frustration, I was exhausted. Not just from the snow, not just from the lateness, but from people. From their rudeness. Their cruelty. Their complete lack of consideration. I don’t know why it still surprises me every time. Maybe because, despite it all, I still have hope that there are more good people than bad.

And then, just when I thought the universe had delivered its final blow, I found out that some truly awful things had been said about me. Complete mischaracterizations. Words twisted, my character dragged through the mud by people who barely knew me. It hurt. More than it should have. Because no matter how strong we are, words can cut deep. But here’s the thing: I know who I am. I refuse to be the kind of person who talks down to others, who thrives on cruelty. I refuse to be one of them.

People will be mean. They will gossip, they will judge, they will take pleasure in tearing others down. But at the end of the day, the only thing we can control is how we respond. I choose kindness. Not because it’s easy, but because I refuse to let the world make me hard.

And you know what? Saturday was proof that kindness still exists. I attended a fundraiser for a charity that supports Princess Margaret Hospital’s breast cancer research. The event had raised over $800,000 over the years. 1,500 people gathered together, all for the same cause. Pink ribbons, pink balloons, laughter, love, and wine.

The host shared a story about a young woman who lost her battle with breast cancer at just 41. Too soon. So unfair. And then he asked us all to hold hands for a moment of silence. In that moment, I prayed—for her, for those suffering, for anyone experiencing any kind of heartbreak. Because, at the end of the day, for every cruel person, there is someone good. For every act of selfishness, there is an act of selflessness. For every awful moment, there is one filled with beauty.

And that’s what I choose to hold onto.

We have to be better. We have to have a conscience. We have to strive to be kind—to loved ones and strangers alike. To not let the cruelness of the world turn us into something we’re not. It’s hard, sometimes. I won’t pretend it isn’t. But life is hard enough without us making it harder for each other.

So to anyone else who’s struggling with how cold the world can be, don’t let it change you. Stay soft. Stay kind. Stay you.

Peace, Love & it’s way cooler to be kind xoxo