Half Empty: Navigating the Space Between Fullness and Emptiness

Some days, I wake up feeling like something’s missing. It’s not always easy to describe, but it feels like walking through life with a glass that’s half empty not quite drained, but never quite full either. It’s not despair, but a persistent hum of emptiness that lingers beneath the surface, even when things are “okay.”

We live in a world that idolizes positivity. We’re told to be grateful, to push through, to see the glass as half full. But what if we stopped for a moment and gave space to the days when we feel hollow? What if we allowed ourselves to say, “Today, I feel half empty,” without shame?

Feeling half empty doesn’t mean I’m broken. It means I’m human. It means I’ve been through things loss, trauma, disappointment, disconnection. It means I’m still searching, still healing, still trying to put the pieces back together in a world that often expects perfection.

Sometimes I feel half empty because I’ve given too much and forgotten to refill myself. Other times, it’s the result of holding onto pain for too long, hoping it would dissolve on its own. There’s no single cause, and no quick fix and that’s okay.

The truth is, being half empty also leaves room. Room for growth. Room for love. Room for renewal. I’m learning not to fear the emptiness but to sit with it to let it teach me. It reminds me to check in with myself, to nurture my emotional and mental wellbeing, to reach out and connect instead of isolating.

In time, the glass will fill again. Maybe not all at once. Maybe not in the ways we expect. But slowly, with care, compassion, and love, we begin to feel whole again.