Walking Into Someone’s Shadow — When Other People’s Darkness Lingers

A strange encounter at a football game becomes a reflection on empathy, boundaries, and how to release the dark energy we sometimes absorb from others.

Lou LaMedica

Oct 4, 2025

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Walking Into Someone’s Shadow

My first thought was just weird. Not a clever word, but the only one that fit. What started as a friendly hello at my son’s flag football game turned into a glimpse of something darker; an encounter that lingered long after it ended.

I said hello to a woman I used to work with at my son’s football game. Just a simple, warm moment; one of those small surprises that happen in the middle of an ordinary Saturday.

I walked up and said, “Hey, do you remember me?” while looking right at her. But before she could answer, her husband did. He said something like, “Yeah, I think so,” as if my question had been directed at him. When I clarified, she offered a strange, misplaced comment about needing to get a haircut from my wife. It didn’t fit the moment at all, but it felt like a signal, a quick attempt to make things safe. And that was all the patience her husband could muster.

His voice dropped, lower and sharper: “I’m gonna keep walking and you’re gonna come with me.”

And just like that, they were gone.

My first thought was just weird. I actually said it aloud. But the word didn’t stretch far enough. The air around them had felt controlled, heavy, wrong. She wasn’t happy to see me, not even politely. No flicker of warmth, no small smile. When you haven’t seen someone in fifteen years, you at least fake a “nice to see you.” But there was no performance left in her.

I didn’t walk away angry. I walked away feeling contaminated; like I’d brushed against something dark. It stayed with me through the rest of the afternoon while I tried to focus on my parents, on cheering for my son, on the good parts of the day. But that moment replayed itself in the background, over and over.

Eventually I called my wife, not for advice, just to say it out loud. That helped. The words cleared the fog. It’s strange how telling the story itself can be a kind of cleansing; how turning confusion into language turns pain into understanding.

The world is full of shadows we bump into without warning, energies that don’t belong to us but cling anyway. The trick is learning how to notice them, feel them, and then let them go.

Empathy doesn’t mean absorption. You can care without carrying.

Because that’s what writing is, really; noticing, processing and putting it down, literally, onto paper.

And that’s what I did. I wrote on it, in the hope that my kids may read this in the future. Life is more about energies and spirits than we like to admit; keeping them alive and positive is an important part of “enough” for me.

“Know what’s enough. Build what matters.”

Living Well Within Our Means

Lou LaMedica