What to Do When Others Disappoint You

Seeing one another, and ourselves, with soft eyes.

On meeting one another, and ourselves, exactly where we are

When we watch young children playing outside, we might see them chasing and laughing — until someone gets caught, falls to the ground, and has a spectacular meltdown before storming off: I don't want to play with you anymore! We watch the child run to their mother to be consoled, and we think nothing of it. We do not conclude that something is fundamentally wrong with them. We understand, instinctively, that this is simply someone who has not yet developed the inner resources to manage a hard moment. They still have a great deal to learn. And that is completely okay.

We are all at different points on the same journey. The gap between a person who can stay grounded under enormous pressure and a person who goes to war over a difference of opinion is not a gap of fundamental worth. It is one of maturity, awareness, and the particular road each has walked.

And here is something that brings a great deal of compassion with it. Not all of us grow at the same pace — and some parts of us may not have grown at all yet. The small, frightened self can become stuck at a particular age because of a significant wound: the loss of a parent, prolonged abuse, a childhood lived in chronic unsafety. So when stress or exhaustion pulls us under, and that wounded part takes the wheel, it does what a frightened four-year-old does. It throws a fit, slams a door, goes silent for days. Not because the person is bad — but because that part of them is still very young, very scared, and has not yet learned another way.

The next time someone disappoints you, look gently — with soft eyes — at what part of your own story they might be reminding you of.

Because here is where it becomes personal. The frustration we feel when others fall short often points back at something closer to home — the very quality we cannot forgive in ourselves. When others miss the mark, they hold up a mirror to our own moments of falling short. And that uncomfortable reflection is often the hidden source of our anger toward them.

So be gentle with yourself when you miss the mark, too. If the mistake is real and has caused harm, take honest ownership of it — but without shame or self-punishment, which never improved a single future outcome. And if it is a small thing, try not to take yourself so seriously. As one line I love puts it: we are all basically houseplants with more complicated emotions. Humour is the hallmark of humility, and it keeps the heart open in a way that shame never can.

In my forthcoming book, I explore what it means to truly see another person — not past their mistakes or around their darkness, but with a Love that understands we are all still learning, still growing, still becoming, and still making our way.