The first day of the Gen Z protest in Nepal was nothing short of heartbreaking. Images, videos, and stories flooding the internet weren’t just news, they were emotional wrecking balls. The pain, the fear, the helplessness in those moments reached far beyond the borders of Nepal. Those of us far from home, watching from afar, felt it deep in our bones, drained, overwhelmed, and disconnected from a place we hold so close.
It wasn’t just a protest. It was an outcry, raw, loud, and human. But as that first day unfolded, what started as peaceful resistance quickly shifted into something else entirely.
No one, especially those who stood for peaceful change, expected it to take such a dark turn. Fires were lit. Businesses torched. Government buildings damaged. What had begun as a cry for change became a painful paradox of destruction in the name of hope.
And just like that, the energy shifted again.
By the third and fourth day, the dust began to settle. Traffic slowly resumed. Offices reopened. Shops pulled up their shutters. People went back to work as if nothing had happened. The normalcy felt surreal. Life moved on, like it always does. It’s wild, isn’t it? How quickly things around us can change, explode, break, heal while some of us stay stuck exactly where the trauma hits.
When the World Moves On Too Fast
It’s jarring. You’re left staring at the world getting back to normal while your mind is still replaying the same traumatic reel from a few days ago. You ask yourself: “How are people moving on so fast?” And worse, “Why can’t I?”
It’s in these moments that we feel most isolated. We overthink. We analyze everything to death, our pain, our helplessness, our reactions. We minimize our own suffering, saying things like, “Others had it worse,” while silently falling apart inside.
Some of us stop talking about it altogether. We bury it, hoping silence might fix what words cannot. But the truth is: silence doesn't heal wounds, it only hides them. And hidden pain festers.
The Danger of Survival Mode
In chaos, we shift into survival mode. And survival mode is meant to be temporary. But for many of us, it becomes a way of life. We learn to function with the bare minimum emotionally, mentally, spiritually until even joy feels like a luxury we can’t afford.
And yet, there’s something quietly powerful in recognizing this pattern.
Because once we see it, we can challenge it.
You Are Allowed to Feel Stuck
Here's something we don’t hear enough: It’s okay if you haven’t moved on. It’s okay if the world has resumed and you haven’t. Healing isn’t a race, and life’s resumption doesn’t equal resolution.
You are allowed to feel lost while others move forward.
But what you’re not allowed to do is believe that you’ll feel this way forever.
Because no, you won’t.
The Unseen Growth
Even when you feel stuck, something in you is changing.
The way you process. The way you think. The way you feel things more deeply. You may not notice it now, but that heartbreak, that trauma is slowly building a stronger, more empathetic, more awake version of you.
You’re not broken, you're becoming.
And no matter how dark, messy, or confusing this process feels, the truth is this:
You’re not alone. You’re just in the middle.
And the middle is where growth happens. Quietly. Privately. Powerfully.
A Realistic Hope
Let’s not pretend everything will magically be okay. Let’s not lie and say all pain passes quickly. But let’s also not ignore this:
Every revolution, personal or political, brings discomfort.
Every collapse leaves space for rebuilding.
Every heartbreak opens doors for understanding.
And every time you feel stuck while the world moves on, you're actually being invited to pause, to reflect, to rebuild from the inside out.
So if you're reading this and you're still holding onto the pain of that protest, or any protest, any trauma, any overwhelming moment that left you breathless know this:
You’re not weak for feeling. You’re not broken for pausing. And you're definitely not alone in your healing.
Some things may go back to normal.
But you - you're becoming something new.
And that’s a kind of progress worth waiting for.
