When Kindness Falls Short

Releasing what isn’t ours to carry, allowing space for growth and compassion.

How do we hold onto our light when someone else’s words dim the room?

Recently, I overheard a moment that made me pause.

There was talk about being kind—this individual was speaking to a group about the importance of treating others with respect and compassion. And then she gave an example: When someone isn’t kind to her, it ruins her whole day.

That was it. The conversation moved on to the task at hand. And something about that sits heavy with me.

Because while I’m sure the intention was to teach empathy—to help others consider how their actions affect those around them—the message also quietly suggested that if someone is unkind to you, your day is pretty much ruined. That there’s nothing to do with that feeling except carry it.

And wow… don’t so many of us live like that?

We’re taught to be kind. We try to lead with grace and empathy. But we’re not often taught what to do when that kindness isn’t returned.

What happens when someone is short with us, or passive-aggressive, or outright unkind? What do we do with those feelings? As adults, many of us are still figuring this out.

And this is where the practice of yoga—beyond the poses—offers so much support.

There’s a principle in yogic philosophy called aparigraha, which means non-attachment.

In this case, it invites us to let go of the idea that others will always treat us well just because we treat them well. It asks us to release the grip we have on how someone should behave.

Not because we don’t care—but because we’re choosing not to carry what isn’t ours.

It’s recognizing that their behavior is often more about them than it is about us. People move through the world with all kinds of unseen burdens—stress, hurt, fear, unmet needs. Often, when someone reacts with unkindness, it’s less a reflection of who we are, and more about what’s unresolved in them.

That doesn’t make it okay. But it can help us step back and not take it so personally.

It’s not always easy—but it is freeing.

When we understand this, we can choose to hold compassion—for ourselves first, and even for them too. We can stop absorbing what doesn’t belong to us.

Another concept, svadhyaya, or self-study, encourages us to turn inward and examine our responses. But sometimes, when we reflect, we may unintentionally slip into self-blame.

We might start to ask, “What did I do wrong?” or “Why did that hurt so much?” These questions are natural—but they can quickly lead us down a path of self-judgment, making us feel like we are somehow responsible for someone else’s unkindness.

In those moments, we may mistake our feelings of hurt for a signal that we did something wrong, that we somehow “invited” the behavior. This self-blame is dangerous because it shifts the responsibility from the person who acted unkindly, to us. We begin to carry their energy, their negativity—when it was never ours to hold.

But there’s another side to this. When we feel hurt, there can also be a tendency to want to “fix it” or to react in a way that mirrors the unkindness we’ve experienced. We might find ourselves becoming defensive, shutting down, or even retaliating with our own unkind words or actions.

This is where svadhyaya becomes essential. It encourages us to pause and examine why we’re tempted to respond in that way. What part of us feels threatened? What part of us is trying to protect itself? By reflecting on these questions, we can choose not to react impulsively, and instead respond with awareness, compassion, and clarity.

Instead of responding with more hurt, we can ask ourselves, “Why did this situation affect me so deeply? What does this reveal about my own triggers and vulnerabilities?”

This practice helps us to break the cycle of reactivity, recognizing that our response is ours to choose. We don’t have to mirror someone else’s energy—we can hold space for our feelings without letting them control us.

In doing so, we take ownership of our emotional landscape, rather than allowing someone else’s behavior to dictate our responses.

So yes, absolutely—let’s continue to ask for kindness.

Let’s teach it. Live it. Lead with it.

But let’s also give ourselves the tools to navigate what happens when kindness doesn’t show up. Let’s talk about how to release the weight of someone else’s bad day, or bad moment, or just plain bad behavior.

And the more we practice this—the returning to ourselves, the releasing, the choosing compassion—not only do we feel lighter… we begin to carry ourselves differently.

And in that shift, something beautiful happens. Without even trying, we begin to show others what’s possible. Through our presence. Our words. Our steadiness.

It’s a quiet ripple. A natural passing on.

Because when we tend to our own hearts, we invite others to do the same.

Mantras to carry with you:

“I return to myself. I release what is not mine to carry.”

“Even when others are unkind, I remain rooted in compassion—for myself and for them.”

Loving-Kindness meditation (Metta Bhavana)

As you reflect on how to respond to unkindness with grace, one practice that can be deeply healing is the Loving-Kindness meditation (Metta Bhavana). This meditation helps soften your heart, shifting you from a place of reaction to one of compassion and love—first for yourself, and then expanding to others—even those who may not treat you kindly.

The practice begins with offering loving-kindness to yourself, reminding you of your own worth and inherent goodness. You can repeat these phrases silently or aloud, focusing on cultivating a feeling of warmth and kindness:

May I be happy.

May I be healthy.

May I be safe.

May I live with ease.

Once you’ve cultivated this loving energy for yourself, expand it outward by bringing someone you love deeply to mind. Repeat these phrases, sending that same kindness to them:

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you be safe.

May you live with ease.

Next, move to someone you know but may not have a close relationship with—perhaps an acquaintance. With the same intention, offer these wishes of loving-kindness to them:

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you be safe.

May you live with ease.

Now, turn toward someone with whom you’ve experienced conflict. This is often the most challenging part of the practice, but it’s also where the deepest healing can occur. By sending loving-kindness to someone who has hurt you, you begin to release the grip of resentment, offering them compassion:

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you be safe.

May you live with ease.

In the final step, broaden your heart even further—offering loving-kindness to all beings, all living creatures, everywhere—acknowledging your shared humanity and deep interconnection:

May all beings be happy.

May all beings be healthy.

May all beings be safe.

May all beings live with ease.

Through this practice, you release the need to react defensively or with unkindness. Instead, you invite a sense of compassion and understanding into your heart, knowing that everyone is doing the best they can with their own challenges. You recognize that unkindness is often a reflection of someone else’s suffering—not your own.