On the return train heading to Alexandria this week, I looked forward to a comfortable journey after an exhausting week filled with tasks.

In carriage 1, on seat 2, I was surprised to find myself at the very end of the train, sitting on a seat without a window to my right or left.

I am someone who has a severe phobia when I'm at a train station. I've dealt with it for many years, almost to the point where it felt like an old friend.

The phobia began to aggressively haunt me – shortness of breath, sweating, chest tightness, and dizziness. Beside me, a large family accompanied me throughout the journey, constantly switching seats, eating different smelling meals, and speaking loudly. To make matters worse, the air conditioner's temperature dropped significantly in this corner.

I put my headphones in to isolate myself before I committed an act punishable by law.

I leaned my head back, crossing my left foot over the right. I rested my elbow on the armrest and took a deep, much-needed breath. I placed a finger under my chin and my index finger on my cheek, with the rest of my body huddled together like a bundle of arugula, resisting the violent shake of the train since I was at the rear end, connected to the propulsion carriage.

What kind of first-class is this on a train that makes you feel like a test tube in a centrifuge? This miserable corner of the carriage shouldn't be fit for any human; it's only suitable for making cottage cheese.

I glanced out of the window in front of me. The train folds the land as it folds the years behind us. It's amazing how the closer objects get, the faster the journey seems.

My chest still hurt, my breathing was very shallow, my head was spinning, and I was fighting back nausea.

We reached the Tanta station, and I was still writing this article, clutching my mobile with both hands as if holding onto a rope so as not to fall from a mountain.

This miserable situation awakened neck pains. Numbness attacked both my hands, and the rest of my spine protested against this utterly unsuitable posture.

I got up from my place, knowing I had to do something. I wouldn't make it to Alexandria alive in this state.

Upon standing, I was surprised to see a few empty seats in the middle of the carriage, and most of the respectable family beside me had fallen asleep.

When you're in a miserable situation, you have to move to change it. I sat in the middle of the carriage; the vibrations lessened, and I began to feel the cool air from the air conditioner penetrating my lungs.

Today, I'm not writing about my struggles with the train, phobia, or back pain, but about enduring pain, about your resilience, and your ability to persevere through hardships in your journey. I'm talking about all the measures you take to push harm away from you when you can't endure any longer.

When I couldn't breathe, I grabbed my bags, ready to finish the journey standing, but I was surprised that some seats were still empty.

In life too, dear friend, some comfortable seats are still vacant!

One of the main reasons for enlightenment in your life is to cater to your psychological needs. Stop crushing your spirit in places unfit for you and be convinced that the hardship you choose might be better for you than the imposed comfort.

Some first-class seats are deceptive – they seem comfortable but are actually torturous.

Though I didn't change the train or even the carriage, changing my seat was enough to end much of my suffering.

Who among us hasn't sat in an unsuitable seat one day? When did you start changing your seat? Have you ever put yourself first? Were your choices aligned with your comfort and truly served your pleasant existence in this world? And when, dear friend, did you decide to leave an apparent bond that doesn't suit your heart?

The seat wasn't for me, but it will remain there, and someone else might endure it. As for me and my heart, it's better for us today to rest from the strain of a journey that truly wore us out.

Our lives, dear friend, are too short to waste in places that don't suit us and don't extend a helping hand for an easier path ahead.

The helping hand that changes an inappropriate situation for you is the savior of your heart, the reliable support, and a firm advocate for your stifled spirit.

Moving just a few seats was enough to bring life back to my lungs. It's imperative for you to act. And in the dictionary, "act" is among the verbs indicating a wish, request, or seeking goodness.

When your companionship is undervalued for days, months, or years, change your seat!

Patience holds a significant status in the eyes of God. But enduring patience surpasses mere patience, reflecting everything you've given with love and kindness, to move beyond those who wronged you until you truly become invaluable.

It's foolish to think that we are obliged to endure all the time and throughout our lives; you are not an acquired right for anyone!

My friend, if a place doesn't suit you, never hesitate to leave.

You cannot derive affection from someone who didn't love you. It's enough for you to depart, leaving behind a deserving void for all that once pained you.