From Complaints to Gratitude: What One Stranger Taught Me

We live in a world where our worth often feels measured by the brands we wear, the gadgets we own, and the highlight reels we share on social media. As a Gen Z, I’ve felt the weight of that — the constant urge to fit in, to belong. Branded sneakers, iPhones, luxury watches, concerts… Instagram makes them seem like essentials, not extras. And somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that owning these things would make me more likable, more successful, more seen.

I used to think that if I had an iPhone, I’d make more friends. If I had a fancy MacBook, I’d feel like I was “making it.” If I had more money, maybe I'd finally feel enough. But chasing these temporary highs often comes at the cost of forgetting how much we already have.

It was a warm March afternoon, and I was in a dark place mentally. Job offers weren’t coming my way, and I felt stuck — anxious, restless, and unsatisfied. To me, success meant owning luxury. I wanted it badly. I was tired of relying on my parents. And in that frustration, everything I did have — a loving family, a roof over my head, a room of my own, a decent phone, even a car — started to feel like nothing.

So, like many of us do when we’re low, I decided to cheer myself up with some comfort food from my favourite restaurant. I ordered lunch online. But the food was late — 20 minutes or more — and I was fuming. I remember thinking, Why do these delivery people even accept orders if they can’t figure out the address? I was already preparing myself to leave a bad review.

The delivery agent's name popped up as "Raji" — and I assumed it would be another guy. But when the bell finally rang, I opened the door and was met with a surprise.

A young woman stood there, maybe two or three years older than me. She was sweating, breathing heavily, clearly tired. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” she said, gasping between words. “I’m new to delivering... I tried riding fast but I got confused with the location. Please don’t leave a bad review.”

Her words caught me off guard. It was the first time I’d seen a woman as a delivery agent.

I told her not to worry and offered her a glass of water. She thanked me, took a quick sip, and left. But in that brief moment, something inside me shifted.

Here was a woman, barely older than me, out in the blistering heat, riding around a city to deliver food. She didn’t have a branded phone like I did. She wore simple clothes — no makeup, no pretence. And yet, she radiated something powerful: grit.

She could’ve been educated, could’ve had dreams, might’ve been going through a financial crunch — but there she was, pushing through a job many would never even consider, just to make ends meet. She was fighting her own battles with dignity, showing up despite the discomfort, despite the odds.

And there I was — sitting in my cool room, full of complaints about what I didn’t have, blind to all that I did.

That afternoon, I didn’t gain a pair of sneakers or a new job — but I gained something even more valuable: perspective.

That woman, a complete stranger, reminded me of the quiet strength people carry every day. She taught me that success isn’t always loud or luxurious. Sometimes, it’s sweaty, tired, and out there on a scooter, chasing survival with courage.

She’ll never know what she gave me that day — but I’ll never forget her.

Have you ever had a moment like this? A stranger who unknowingly woke you up to life?
Drop your story in the comments(would post it on the website) or DM me — you never know who needs to read it today.