The Dark Truth About Kindness: When the World Makes You Question Being Good
- QueenB Divine
- 5 days ago
- 5 min read
Scrolling, scrolling on my cell phone. When days are hot, when days are cold. Left scroll, right scroll, up and down too. Sometimes I honestly wish the internet had something better for me to do.
Have you ever noticed that the more you scroll, the less you can start to feel like you matter? You're looking at the news, people's opinions, arguments, anger, success, disasters, celebrities, politics, AI, wars, money, somebody winning, somebody losing, somebody screaming about something—and before you know it, your mind is carrying around a world it was never designed to carry all at once.
Here's something I've had to remind myself: you're not supposed to know everything.
I say that because I've been watching myself scroll, and I'm beginning to see a pattern. The loud, dark, mean and chaotic stuff gets so much attention. Sometimes it feels like the angriest person in the room gets the microphone while the kind person is somewhere in the back quietly trying to make life a little better.
And I'll tell you something else I've been thinking about. AI and technology are becoming more involved in what we see, what gets recommended to us and what holds our attention. Sometimes I wonder if, instead of us shaping these tools, we're allowing these tools to shape us. I don't want that. We are supposed to be the leaders of our future.
That brings me to a question I don't think we talk about enough: What is the benefit of being kind when it looks like unkind people are winning?
That's some real talk.
Imagine a beautiful tree filled with every kind of fruit you could possibly want. There's enough there to enjoy, share and maybe even leave something behind for somebody else. You walk up to that tree and say, “I'm only going to take what I need.” Not because somebody is watching you. Not because you're going to get an award. You simply believe there should be something left for the next person.
Then somebody else comes along and takes everything.
Every last piece.
And you stand there thinking, Wait a minute. I was trying to do the right thing. They took everything, and nothing happened to them.
That's where kindness gets complicated.
There have been moments when I've genuinely wondered: Is it worth being kind on this planet? Are we supposed to sit quietly while people take advantage, destroy things, hurt others or grab everything they can? At what point does kindness become allowing yourself to be walked over?
I don't have some perfect spiritual answer for that. Sometimes I don't understand what is happening either.
But I do know what scrolling can do to me.
The longer I sit there going through my phone, the easier it becomes for my mind to settle into a reality that may or may not actually be mine. I've caught myself judging my own life based on what I think is happening in the rest of the world.
That's when I have to put the phone down and ask myself: What's real?
Where does my kindness actually matter?
Does kindness only count if somebody notices it? Does it matter if I don't receive some worldly acclaim or somebody saying, “Hey, you're doing a good job”? What does being kind mean when nobody is watching? What does it mean to remain the person I believe I was born to be when parts of the world appear determined to become something completely different?
I've realized my kindness isn't going anywhere. It's still pulsing through my veins. But kindness also needs discernment. It needs reason. It needs boundaries. I have to consider myself, my family and the people I love. Being kind doesn't mean handing everybody unlimited access to you. It doesn't mean allowing people to harm you while you smile and call yourself a good person.
My mother used to say, “Never stoop to the level of those who are pissing you off, because then they have won.”
How many times have I forgotten that lesson? Plenty.
As I've gotten older, though, I've started looking at life differently. Eventually, all of us reach a day when the things we fought over, competed over and desperately wanted people to notice won't have the same importance anymore.
So I want to live what matters now.
The air I breathe matters. The earth underneath my feet matters. The people I meet matter. The people I love matter. My community matters. And I want the people who genuinely matter to me to receive the best parts of me rather than whatever exhausted, angry version of me the internet created that day.
To me, that's kindness.
So when you're scrolling—and yes, sometimes doomscrolling—be careful not to judge your life by what you're seeing on that little screen.
Put the phone down for a minute.
Look around.
That is your reality.
When you crawl into bed tonight, whether you're by yourself, beside somebody you love or curled up with your favorite pet, you still matter. Your life doesn't suddenly become less valuable because somebody else's life received a million views. Your kindness isn't worthless because cruelty got more clicks today.
Maybe kindness isn't about winning the internet.
Maybe kindness is about keeping the people we love around us just a little longer. Maybe it's creating a home people feel safe walking into. Maybe it's checking on somebody. Maybe it's sharing instead of taking everything from the tree. Maybe it's simply refusing to let an increasingly chaotic world decide what kind of human being you're going to become.
Imagine if every community did that.
Imagine people saying, “I don't care how crazy it gets out there. We're still going to be decent to each other here.”
That's how life becomes a little sweeter.
And since we're talking about putting our phones down, here's my shameless little plug. I created something called Cellphellow, my 3-in-1 mental-health-inspired phone pillow. It's a place to put your phone when you're not using it—you can tuck the phone inside or lay it on top—but when the phone isn't there, Cellphellow becomes something you can squeeze, smush or, on those really special days, yell into.
Cellphellow is especially close to my heart because I'm trying to create something that can help people without unnecessarily hurting the world. They're made using reclaimed fabric, and each one has its own personality. They're unique, original and one of a kind.
But whether you ever own a Cellphellow or not, the bigger message remains the same.
Take care when you're scrolling.
The world on your screen can be loud. It can be dark. It can make you question humanity, your worth and sometimes even the point of being a good person. But don't allow a screen to convince you that kindness has become useless.
Put the phone down occasionally. Come back to your own life. Protect your mindset. Love your people. Know when kindness needs a boundary, but don't let somebody else's darkness convince you to turn yours off.
Because your mindset truly matters.
And kindness is still a part of that.
Take care of you.
— QueenB.Divine
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