Real Life Isn’t a Highlight Reel
…And That’s Okay.
Lately, I’ve been noticing something — in conversations, emails, pauses between meetings. Many people are quietly doing it tough.
Not in dramatic, headline-worthy ways. More like a slow erosion. A kind of emotional wear and tear. A death by a thousand small cuts.
Work stress. Rising costs. Health worries. Political unease. Uncertainty about the future. Add in everyday disappointments — missed sleep, a hard conversation, a child struggling at school, a nagging sense of not being “enough” — and the load adds up.
And yet, so often, this is carried in silence.
The Social Media Mirage
What makes this quiet struggle harder is the contrast we’re constantly exposed to.
On social media, we see the best bits of people’s lives — sunsets, stylish homes, overseas adventures, smiling faces. It looks effortless. Glossy. Happy.
I often remind my kids that ‘comparison is the thief of happiness’, and that much of what they’re seeing is a highlight reel, not a documentary. But even when we know this, it’s hard not to internalise the message:
Everyone else seems to be thriving. So if I’m not… maybe I’m doing something wrong.
A Personal (and Slightly Tragic!) Reflection
It would be remiss of me to talk about comparison without confessing my own somewhat awkward position in the glamour stakes.
Scrolling through social media, I’m often met with sun-kissed influencers and impossibly symmetrical humans doing yoga on paddleboards. And then I catch sight of myself in the mirror, usually mid-yawn, holding a piece of toast, wondering when exactly my eyebrows started migrating in opposite directions.
I think I probably peaked in my early twenties — for about three days! There was a brief moment, possibly around 1994, where I thought, you know what, I don’t look too bad today. It didn’t last. That moment has since been eclipsed by decades of awkward angles, thinning hair, and the sudden appearance of body parts I don’t remember ordering.
And yet here I am. Still loved. Still showing up. Still good enough.
A Death by a Thousand Small Cuts
This isn’t about one big crisis. It’s about the slow accumulation of small things.
A difficult email. A child’s tantrum. A missed opportunity. A dent in the car. An awkward conversation. A power bill. A tightening chest at 2 a.m.
Alone, each one is manageable. But they don’t always happen alone. They stack. They echo. They wear you down.
And still, we often smile and say, “I’m fine.”
The Wisdom of Pooh and Piglet
There’s a passage I’ve always loved from A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh:
“Today was a Difficult Day,” said Pooh.
There was a pause.
“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Piglet.
“No,” said Pooh after a bit. “No, I don’t think I do.”
“That’s okay,” said Piglet, and he came and sat beside his friend.”
“What are you doing?” asked Pooh.
“Nothing, really,” said Piglet. “Only, I know what Difficult Days are like… But goodness, Difficult Days are so much easier when you know you’ve got someone there for you. And I’ll always be here for you, Pooh.”
Sometimes, that’s what we need most — not advice or inspiration. Just someone who’ll sit beside us quietly, even when there are no words.

A.A. Milne
Embracing the Struggle
This isn’t one of those posts with five tips for instant wellbeing. I’m not here to tell you how to fix things. Sometimes things can’t be fixed in a tidy way.
This is just a moment of recognition — that struggling doesn’t mean you’re failing. That feeling overwhelmed isn’t a sign of weakness. That you’re not broken because you’re finding life hard.
You’re living a real life. Messy. Complicated. Entirely human.
A Gentle Path Forward
If today is a Difficult Day, here’s your Piglet moment — a quiet voice saying:
“You’re not alone. I’ll sit here with you.”
Don’t underestimate the strength it takes to keep going, especially when things feel heavy.
Hope doesn’t always come as a burst of motivation. Sometimes it’s just a soft voice saying: Tomorrow, we try again.
Until then, be gentle with yourself and keep going, it’s worth it.
Final Thought
If this resonated with you, maybe pass it on to someone who could use a little Piglet in their day.
You don’t need to fix the world. Sometimes just letting someone know you’re there is enough.
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Rob Bishop is the Director of Bishop Associates, a Christchurch-based recruitment and HR consultancy known for its values-led approach and deep commitment to people. With a background in psychology and psychotherapy, Rob brings a thoughtful, human lens to leadership, wellbeing, and workplace culture. He writes occasionally about the mess and magic of being human — often with a touch of humour, always with heart.
rob@bishopassociates.co.nz | +64 3 2650 666