Why Being a “Good Person” Doesn’t Mean Life Is Easy

People often tell me I’m a good person. Kind. Strong. Loving. Capable.

For a long time, I quietly wondered why, if all of that was true, my life still felt so unstable.

Why does chaos keep finding me?

Why does it feel like I’m always rebuilding?

Why is stability something I want so deeply, yet struggle to hold onto?

For a long time, I assumed the problem had to be me.

Here’s the truth I’ve had to learn the hard way. Being a good person doesn’t automatically protect you from hard things. Goodness isn’t armor. Kindness doesn’t guarantee safety. Love isn’t always met with healthy behavior.

In fact, “good people” often struggle more. Not because they are weak, but because they give more. They stay longer. They hope harder. They believe people can change. They choose peace for others before protecting themselves.

That doesn’t make you broken.

It means your heart is open.

And open hearts are vulnerable because the world doesn’t always respond with the care and consistency we hope for.

And stability. This part hurts the most.

You want stability. You’ve worked for it, planned for it, prayed for it. But stability isn’t just about effort. It’s about environment.

You can be capable, loving, and strong and still not create stability if the ground beneath you keeps shifting. I’ve been building on moving sand because people and circumstances kept pulling the foundation out from under me.

That doesn’t mean I failed. It means I stayed standing while the ground kept collapsing.

That realization changed everything for me.

I’m not behind in life.

I’m not incapable.

I’m not cursed.

I’ve been surviving in conditions that required constant strength, constant flexibility, and constant forgiveness, often without rest or safety.

Here’s something else I’m learning. Stability usually comes after the hardest season, not during it. It comes when boundaries finally stick. When you stop negotiating with chaos. When you choose peace even if it feels lonely at first.

This season of my life has forced me to question patterns instead of blaming myself. To choose safety over familiarity. To rest without quitting.

If you’re reading this and feel tired, discouraged, or tempted to give up, please hear this.

You are not failing at life.

You’ve just been fighting it without a safety net.

And if all you can do right now is try a little longer, that’s enough.

With Strength and Standing, 

Just Catrina