to the girl in the checkout line

I don't know you. I don't know your name or where you're from or what your life is like. And I'll probably never see you again. But none of those things stop me from wishing that there was more light and less pain in your eyes.

I know that look. I've seen it in my own eyes when I've looked in the mirror. And I've seen it on the faces of people young and old. Strangers, friends, men, women...that look doesn't discriminate. And I know that no matter whose eyes that sadness is found in, it's heart breaking.

I hope you know that I wasn't judging your purchase. That I wasn't looking down on you for buying copious amounts of candy and Chips Ahoy. I was thinking back to the times I've made purchases like that. To the days when I thought that sugar and calories and fat could distract me from life and its problems. To the days when comfort food felt like the only way to find a little joy in my day.

When we made eye contact while I waited for the cashier to swipe my credit card, something inside me told me you needed a friend. You needed somebody to reach out, to ask how you were, or even just to smile. I did none of those things. And for that I'm extremely sorry.

Now, just an hour or so later, I'm sitting in my living room thinking about all the times when I wished somebody could have seen the pain I was feeling and reached out to me and remembering how much that pain increased when nobody did, making me feel increasingly alone. I should have said something. I should have at least smiled instead of turning away, retrieving my credit card, receipt, and grocery bag, and hightailing it out of there.

But I didn't. And aside from selfishness and slight introversion, I have no excuses. I could see by the look on your face and the food in your basket that your day was much harder than mine. And even thought it would have taken little to no effort on my part, I did nothing to bring a little light into your life.

So I wanted to tell again how sorry I am.

And I wanted to tell you that it gets better.

It might not get better tomorrow or next week or next month. And it might never get all the way better. I don't know what you're feeling or what factors in your life are causing that darkened, defeated countenance of yours, but I know it will get better someday, somehow.

And there may be ups and downs. There may be long stretches of happiness and brightness when the world feels in your control followed by days that are hard, grueling, and disheartening. And when you have those days, it can feel like all the progress you worked so hard for is slipping away. It can feel like your spiraling back into an old version of yourself—the version with the sad eyes that strangers can recognize. But a bad day doesn't have to wreck your forward progression. It's easier said than done, I know, but take heart. Have some courage.

And I want to leave you with one more thing: You are beautiful. I'll bet you think you're plain or average or even ugly, because us girls do that to ourselves sometimes, but you are truly beautiful. And I can't even imagine how much more beautiful you'd be with a light in your eyes and a smile on your face.

I hope you find that light and that smile soon. I really do.