Why is everyone always freaking out? Protecting Our Peace Has Ruined Our Peace

We’ve started calling selfishness “protecting our peace.” But let’s be honest, this isn’t peace. This is fragility. This is coldness. This is us becoming hollow, soulless versions of ourselves.

One inconvenience now feels like a crisis. You don’t find parking? You lose your temper. Someone takes too long to bring your food? You act like it’s a personal insult. Traffic jams turn into swearing matches on the road. We’ve built a culture where the smallest discomfort is unbearable.

But our grandparents lived in a world of real uncertainty. They didn’t know if electricity would last through the night. They didn’t know if water would reach home or if they’d have to share with neighbors. And yet they managed no?  They didn’t collapse at the thought of chaos. They understood life was unpredictable, and you had to roll with it.

Today, we treat imperfection like betrayal. We cut people off for one harsh word. We ghost friends instead of working through conflict. We shut the door on neighbors, afraid to get “too involved.” And all the while, we convince ourselves it’s maturity, boundaries, self-care. But really, it’s cowardice. It’s avoidance.

The irony? The more we run from chaos, the more fragile and lonely we become. Our so-called “peace” is eating us alive. Because peace isn’t about control, it’s about surrender. It’s not about living without noise, it’s about learning to live with it. 

When was the last time you forgave someone without dragging it out? When was the last time you gave someone the benefit of the doubt instead of assuming the worst? When was the last time you sat in traffic and just accepted it for what it was? We don’t have patience anymore. We don’t have trust. We don’t even have each other.

And don’t tell me you’re working on yourself. Don’t tell me you’re journaling, manifesting, healing, attending yoga classes and happiness programs. All of that means nothing if you can’t be kind. If you can’t show up when it’s inconvenient. If you can’t carry someone else’s weight for a moment. You can’t manifest love while refusing to give it. You can’t build peace by hiding from people.

The truth is uncomfortable. Life is unfair. It has always been unfair. The waiter will forget your order. Your friend will disappoint you. Strangers will fail you. And still you must love. You must forgive. You must remain human in a world that keeps pushing you toward isolation.

Because here’s the reality: if God wanted us to live alone, He would have given each of us a planet of our own. But He didn’t. We were put here, side by side, with crying babies, barking dogs, messy neighbors, unpredictable roads, and people who will hurt us and need us anyway. That’s the deal. That’s what coexistence means.

Peace was never meant to be protected from chaos. Peace was meant to be lived through it. Through the noise, through the mistakes, through each other’s humanity. Peace isn’t built in silence, it’s built in chaos. It’s built in forgiving, showing up, helping, accepting the mess. Until we learn that again, we’ll keep living in this loneliness epidemic we’ve created with our own hands.

So maybe it’s time to stop hiding behind this obsession with “protecting our peace.” Maybe it’s time to admit that what we call peace is just fear. Maybe it’s time to get uncomfortable again—to forgive, to show up, to share, to care even when it doesn’t benefit us.

Because the world doesn’t grow through avoidance. We don’t heal through isolation. We grow when we step into the mess. We heal when we carry each other. We find peace not by avoiding the chaos but by living through it together.