It hurts me deeply to hear people who have lived a hard life or who struggle with mental health say they feel useless for not working or for receiving support. Society looks at them with suspicion, as if their worth were measured in productivity. But I’ve seen far too often how, in many jobs, most people do almost nothing, while those who truly keep everything running – waiters, cooks, cleaners, nurses, miners – are the ones who wear themselves out the most and receive the least. There is no justice in that balance, only a collective habit of not looking beyond the surface.

There are people who have money without earning it, who live off others, who harm without remorse. Yet the ones who are judged are those who fight every day just to stay on their feet. Dignity is not in the salary or the occupation. It lies in moving forward despite the wound, in not giving up even when the body or mind says enough. I hope that one day those voices that judge without understanding fall silent, and that we listen instead to those who, even if they don’t work, still offer something essential: humanity.