Is There A Hierarchy Of Pain? 😩
Sep 29, 2025
Heads up. I’m expecting some of you to disagree with this or have thoughts. I don’t have this sooo clear in my head - last night I was tossing and turning about this Socially Appropriate-ish Newsletter and if it’s even true. According to much research, it seems to be true. Pain and Suffering Hurts. It can’t be ranked.
But, Can It?? Sometimes it feels like it can be and should be. And maybe it would be validating to have our pain ranked with a score…
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You know that moment when you’re venting about your teenager’s messy room… and then later discover the person you’re talking to has a teenager who’s been out of school for weeks on end?
…Which is when the awkward violin music starts playing in your head.
Welcome to the concept of “Hierarchy of Pain.”
As therapists like Lori Gottlieb and Edith Eger remind us, there really isn’t a hierarchy of suffering. Pain is subjective: two people can experience the same situation (a broken bone, a loss, or a rejection, a death) and feel it at very different intensities. There’s no universal “scale” that makes one person’s pain automatically greater or lesser than another’s.
Of course, no one means to compare tragedies, (that would be ridiculous), but inevitably it does happen by way of conversation. (Does that make sense? “By way?” Sounding funny in my head).
“My grandmother was just diagnosed with Parkinson’s,” said to someone who just suffered the loss of a husband.
“My children are waiting for a baby,” said to someone with three unmarried older children, waiting even longer.
“I’m afraid one of my kids might have learning issues,” said to someone whose child has major emotional/behavioral challenges and is in a special school.
All real. All painful. And yet—spoken in the wrong setting, they land like lemon juice in a paper cut.
And here’s where words matter. When people say things like “At least it’s not as bad as…” or “Some people have it worse”, the phrasing unintentionally suggests a hierarchy of suffering. While often meant to comfort or give perspective, it can feel invalidating, because it implies someone’s pain isn’t “serious enough.”
Authenticity says share our pain; be real. People are attracted to that. Authenticity drives connection. Empathy whispers, be mindful of whose ears are hearing our struggles. And Realism reminds us: our pain is valid, but maybe not always sharable.
The goal? To Balance all three.
Yes, there are “stubbed toe” problems and “broken leg” problems. And pain doesn’t cancel out: your stubbed toe still hurts. (And so do paper cuts!) The trick is recognizing when your stubbed-toe monologue may be best saved for someone without a fractured femur.
A practical way to balance? Start with a check-in: “Can I share something that’s been on my mind?” Or add a disclaimer: “I know your situation is much heavier, and I don’t want to minimize that—but can I tell you what’s been hard for me too?”
So here’s the full circle: Both emotional/physical pain have NO “official” rankings. (Ex: You get 96 for losing someone close to you, 78 points for scary diagnosis, 67 points for a breakup after 8 dates, and 56 points for another one and done, and 36 points for a broken ankle).
However, clearly there are unofficial rankings, how can there not be? (Though, this is the debate right here!)
What is not debatable: There is pain wherever we turn. Many people are holding pain of all sorts. Both big and little. Whether we know it or not. We need to be careful with our words and have tremendous compassion in our interactions. And in that space, that’s where authenticity, empathy and realism get their chance to dance.
Wishing the Entire Newsletter Family, a Ksiva V’chasima Tova and a year of NO MORE PAIN.
From my heart to yours,
, SHIFI
