“It is what it is.”

I’ve said this phrase quite a few times — many even. So much so that now, when I hear someone else fall back on these five words, I understand their secret, sorrowful, message.

It is what it is. 

What it means:

I can’t change my current circumstances, but I desperately wish I could. 

Life isn’t fair, and right now it feels very unfair.

I feel defeated. Empty. Up against all odds.

I want to cry, but don’t want to right now because I’m all cried out.

I feel very, very alone. 

I need a hug.

And so on. (You get the gist.)

It is what it is. Sigh.

It is a sadness we never anticipated. It is an aloneness we never thought we’d know. It is a life we thought we’d never live. It is a grief that is infinite and we don’t know how to tell you this in a simple sentence or two so we sum it up in the only way we know how:

It is what it is. Deep sigh.

The phrase says so much while divulging so little. If you hear it, read between the lines, because there is much more there than just five words. Often, so much pain. So much regret. So much worry. So much anxiety. So much stress. So much despair. 

So much wishing someone else understood. So much wishing someone would reach out and really, truly attempt to understand.

It is what it is. Catch your breath and try not to cry.

Most of us have been there at one time or another. If you haven’t, consider yourself lucky.

But when you are at one of your “it is what it is” moments in life, know this and know this for certain: you aren’t alone, even though it certainly feels that way and seems that way and looks that way.

You are never alone. Life does not want you to be alone. 

So even in those weary moments deep, deep into the late night when sleep is elusive and the shadows creep into the corners and your whisper echoes against the windows and the walls, you may feel alone, but you are not. 

It is what it is. But you are never alone. 

The human psyche fears isolation and vulnerability. So we put our defense mechanisms in place. We put on a brave face. We hesitate to ask for help. We pretend everything is normal and that we are all right.

When just the opposite might be true — is true. 

But that’s okay because it is what it is. And there may be some hope in that.

What it is doesn’t have to stay “what it is” forever. What it is can change — it will change. That is a guarantee.

Until it does, breathe. Just breathe. Even in the loneliest of moments, try to remember you are not alone. You are aligned with all the others who are articulating the exact sentiment as you: It is what it is.

You may not know them or see them, but you are with them in ways you do not perceive, yet you do. 

And together you’ll get through this. You will.

Because it is what it is. And that doesn’t always have to be all bad. Quite the opposite. 

But we have to be patient. I’m trying.

Because it is what it is. And we are in this together. Waiting. 

Sending love.

— Jill Pertler’s column Slices of Life appears regularly in the Times. She can be reached at slicescolumn@gmail.com.