Movie Recommendation: Thicker Than Water (2019)

 

I have just finished watching Thicker Than Water (2019), and I found myself thinking about it even after it ended. It is the kind of thriller that draws you in with its suspense while leaving you reflecting on the emotional struggles behind the story.

The story follows the Decker family as they struggle to cope with the devastating loss of their teenage son, Zach, who dies from an overdose. Losing a child is a heartbreak that is difficult to put into words, and watching the family try to find their way through such a tragedy was genuinely heartbreaking. Everyone deals with loss differently, and sometimes, the people who appear to be holding everything together are the ones quietly falling apart inside.

Paige, Zach's mother, particularly stood out to me. She is clearly struggling with her grief, yet she tries to carry on with life while dealing with a pain that has fundamentally changed her. There is something incredibly sad about watching someone lose their sense of purpose and happiness because of a loss they cannot undo. Her sadness, emotional detachment, and desperate need to feel connected to her son again felt painfully real to me. It reminded me that grief does not always look like uncontrollable crying or openly expressing sadness. Sometimes, it is found in the silence, the emptiness, and the desperate attempts to fill a void that nothing seems capable of replacing.

Things take an unsettling turn when the family brings Brandon, a tenant who bears an uncanny resemblance to Zach, into their lives. At first, I could understand why Paige was drawn to him. When someone we love is no longer with us, even the smallest reminder of that person can bring a sense of comfort. It may be a familiar expression, a voice, a photograph, or a memory that suddenly comes rushing back. For Paige, Brandon's resemblance to Zach offers something she desperately needs, even if it is only a temporary sense of closeness to the son she has lost.

However, what initially appears comforting gradually becomes disturbing. Brandon's behaviour begins to change, and the atmosphere becomes increasingly tense. As I watched, I found myself wondering how much Paige was willing to overlook because she wanted so badly to hold on to the comfort he seemed to bring her. It was unsettling to see how grief could make someone vulnerable to a situation that might otherwise raise immediate concerns.

This is where the movie works particularly well for me. It is not simply about a mysterious tenant and the danger he brings into a family's home. It also explores what can happen when emotional pain becomes so overwhelming that our need for comfort takes priority over our ability to recognize warning signs. Sometimes, when we are hurting, we want so badly to believe that something or someone can make things better that we fail to see the situation clearly.

Andrea Roth deserves special mention for her portrayal of Paige. I found her performance moving because she captured the different layers of a grieving mother so convincingly. Her moments of sadness, detachment, and renewed hope made Paige feel like a real person rather than just a character in a thriller. I could sense her internal struggle, and that made the more disturbing developments in the story even more effective.

Eric Osborne also did a good job portraying Brandon. He brought a mixture of charm and uneasiness to the character, making it difficult to know what to expect from him. There were moments when I felt uncomfortable watching him, and that uncertainty helped maintain the suspense. Just when I thought I understood where the story was heading, I found myself questioning what might happen next.

Of course, not every part of the plot was unpredictable. Some developments could be anticipated, particularly if you watch thrillers regularly. However, I do not think a movie needs to surprise us at every turn to leave a lasting impression. For me, the emotional story beneath the suspense was what made Thicker Than Water worth watching. The themes of grief, vulnerability, and the need for healing gave the movie more depth than a straightforward thriller.

One of the biggest takeaways for me is that healing from loss cannot simply come from finding a replacement for what we have lost. People we love are irreplaceable, and although memories can bring comfort, we also need to allow ourselves to acknowledge our pain and gradually learn how to live with it. There is no fixed timeline for grief, and everyone processes it differently. However, when pain remains unresolved, it can influence our decisions in ways we may not fully recognize.

I also believe this movie serves as a reminder to be compassionate towards people who are grieving. We may not always understand their behaviour, their silence, or the choices they make while trying to cope. Rather than judging them, we should remember that they may be struggling with emotions they do not know how to express. At the same time, compassion does not mean ignoring danger or allowing our longing for comfort to prevent us from seeing the truth.

All in all, Thicker Than Water (2019) is a worthwhile watch for anyone who enjoys psychological thrillers with an emotional dimension. While parts of the storyline may be predictable, the subject matter gives it a haunting quality that stays with you.

For me, this movie is a reminder that grief can leave us feeling lost, but healing begins when we allow ourselves to face our pain rather than desperately trying to fill the emptiness it leaves behind. Sometimes, what feels familiar and comforting is not necessarily what is good for us. Learning to recognize the difference can be difficult, especially when our hearts are hurting.

How Reducing Stress Builds Tenacity

 

Life has taught me that being strong does not mean never feeling tired, discouraged, overwhelmed, or defeated. It means finding the courage to keep going, even when things do not turn out the way I hoped they would. Over the years, I have come to understand that strength is not simply about how much hardship I can endure. It is also about how I choose to respond to life's challenges. Sometimes, the greatest strength lies in knowing when to pause, when to let go, and when to protect my peace.

When I reflect on the question, “How does reducing stress and negativity help you to increase your tenacity?”, I realize that it is something I have been learning through my own experiences. To me, tenacity is the determination to keep moving forward despite difficulties, setbacks, and disappointments. It is the willingness to get back up after falling, even when doing so takes more effort than anyone else realizes. I have learnt that to develop greater tenacity, I must take care of my mental and emotional wellbeing instead of focusing only on fulfilling my responsibilities.

Stress is an unavoidable part of life. There will always be responsibilities to fulfil, expectations to meet, decisions to make, and unexpected situations to manage. We cannot control everything that happens around us, but we can learn to manage how we respond. When stress becomes overwhelming, even simple tasks can feel difficult, and our ability to think clearly may suffer. We may become impatient, lose motivation, or struggle to see a way forward. This is why I believe managing stress is essential to building resilience. When my mind is calmer, I am better able to assess situations, make thoughtful decisions, and deal with challenges without feeling as though everything is happening at once.

I have also learnt that not every situation deserves my emotional energy. There will always be people with different opinions, expectations, and perspectives, and not everyone will understand my choices. In the past, it can be tempting to feel the need to explain myself or respond to every disagreement. However, I have come to realize that protecting my peace is sometimes more important than proving a point. I do not have to win every argument or convince everyone to see things my way. By choosing my battles wisely and setting healthy boundaries, I can focus on what truly matters rather than becoming emotionally drained by situations I cannot change.

This does not mean ignoring problems or pretending that hurtful experiences do not affect me. It means recognizing what is within my control and deciding where my energy is best spent. I want to use my time and strength to work towards my goals, nurture meaningful relationships, and continue growing as a person. Learning to let go of unnecessary emotional burdens allows me to approach life's genuine challenges with greater patience and determination.

Some of our greatest lessons also come from experiences we never asked for. Life does not always give us the answers we want, and there are moments when we must face disappointment, uncertainty, and circumstances beyond our control. My own struggles have taught me that tenacity is not about having an easy life. It is about learning how to continue when life becomes difficult, even when I cannot see the entire path ahead of me.

I have come to understand that our past experiences can either teach us valuable lessons or become burdens that hold us back. When we repeatedly revisit painful situations, we risk carrying yesterday's disappointments into today's opportunities. While we cannot change what has happened, we can choose how we move forward. I want to learn from my experiences, become wiser through them, and use those lessons to make better decisions in the future.

Of course, healing does not happen overnight. Some experiences take time to process, and some wounds are not easily forgotten. I believe we should give ourselves permission to feel our emotions rather than forcing ourselves to appear strong all the time. There is courage in admitting that something has hurt us, just as there is courage in deciding that we do not want that experience to determine our future. For me, developing tenacity means accepting that difficult moments are part of life while trusting that I can continue to grow beyond them.

Our mindset also plays an important role in how we respond to adversity. When I approach a situation with fear and self doubt, I may become so overwhelmed by the possibility of failure that I struggle to take the first step. However, when I approach it with a calmer and more constructive mindset, I can focus on finding solutions rather than becoming consumed by the problem.

Having a positive mindset does not mean ignoring reality or expecting everything to work out perfectly. To me, it means believing that even when things are difficult, there is something I can learn or do to improve the situation. Instead of asking myself why something has happened to me, I can ask what the experience can teach me. Instead of allowing one setback to convince me that I am not good enough, I can remind myself that one disappointing experience does not determine my worth or my future.

This change in perspective strengthens my tenacity because it encourages me to keep trying. I do not have to get everything right the first time, and I do not have to see immediate results to know that I am making progress. Sometimes, progress means getting through a difficult day, completing a task I have been putting off, or finding the courage to begin again after something has not worked out. These small victories matter because they remind me that moving forward does not require me to have everything figured out. It simply requires me to take the next step.

I have also come to appreciate how small, consistent habits can help me manage stress and maintain a healthier outlook on life. Taking a step back when I feel overwhelmed gives me time to think before reacting. Getting enough rest, eating mindfully, staying physically active, and making time for activities that bring me joy can help me feel better equipped to manage everyday pressures. For me, healthy living is not just about looking after my physical health. It is also about creating a lifestyle that supports my mental and emotional wellbeing.

Having people I can turn to is equally important. We do not always have to face our struggles alone. Sometimes, talking to someone who listens without judging us can help us see a situation differently. Asking for help is not a failure of strength. It is an acknowledgement that we are human and that support can make difficult experiences easier to navigate. When stress or emotional struggles become too much to manage alone, seeking professional support is also a responsible and courageous step. Our mental wellbeing deserves the same care and attention as our physical health.

Another important lesson I have learnt is that tenacity does not mean pushing forward at all costs. There is a difference between perseverance and exhausting ourselves to prove that we can endure everything. Sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is take a break, reassess our direction, or recognize that a particular situation is no longer good for us. Rest does not mean giving up, and changing direction does not mean we have failed.

I want to cultivate the kind of tenacity that allows me to face challenges without losing myself in them. I want to remain determined while recognizing my limitations, and I want to pursue my goals without sacrificing my wellbeing in the process. I do not have to accomplish everything in one day or solve every problem immediately. Sometimes, focusing on what I can reasonably do today is far more productive than worrying about everything that remains unfinished. Being kind to myself along the way is just as important as remaining committed to my goals.

When I ask myself, “How does reducing stress and negativity help you to increase your tenacity?”, my answer is that it allows me to preserve the strength I need to keep going. Life will not always be fair, people will not always understand me, and plans will not always work out the way I hope. There will be moments when I feel discouraged and situations that test my patience. However, I do not want these experiences to determine how I feel about myself or what I believe I can achieve.

For me, tenacity is not about pretending to be invincible. It is about knowing that I can feel tired and still find a reason to continue. It is about acknowledging that some days will be harder than others without allowing those days to convince me that I cannot move forward. I do not need to carry every burden or fight every battle. Sometimes, choosing peace over conflict is precisely what allows me to preserve my strength for the things that deserve my attention.

Ultimately, reducing stress and negativity is not about creating a life without problems. It is about developing the emotional resilience and mental clarity to face those problems without losing myself in the process. I may not always be able to control what life brings my way, but I can continue choosing how I respond. I can choose to learn from my experiences, grow through my challenges, and keep moving forward even when progress feels slow.

Perhaps that is what true tenacity means to me. It is not simply the ability to endure life's storms. It is the ability to find my footing again, protect my peace, and continue walking forward with courage, hope, and a heart that refuses to give up on the possibility of better days.

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time: The Feast of God's Love

As I reflect on today's Church readings, I find myself thinking about how easily we can become caught up in the demands of everyday life and forget the One who has been walking beside us all along. Life does not always turn out the way we expect. We face disappointments, experience moments of uncertainty, carry responsibilities and sometimes fight battles that others know nothing about. Yet, through it all, God continues to invite us into a relationship with Him.

What speaks to my heart most deeply in today's readings is that God's invitation is not just about the promise of eternal life. It is about how I choose to live my life today, how I respond when things become difficult, and whether I am willing to trust Him even when I cannot see where the road ahead will lead.

In the first reading from the prophet Isaiah, God promises a joyful banquet for all peoples. He promises to destroy death forever, wipe away every tear and remove the disgrace of His people. Whenever I reflect on this promise, I am reminded that God sees more than what people see on the surface. He sees the pain behind a smile, the disappointment behind words left unspoken and the strength it sometimes takes simply to get through another day.

I believe many of us have experienced moments when we had to be strong even when we did not feel strong. There are times when we continue to fulfil our responsibilities, show up for others and carry on with life because that is what we feel we must do. We may not always share what we are going through, and people may never fully understand the struggles we face privately.

I know that life can test us in ways we never expected. There are lessons we learn through difficult experiences, and there are moments when we have to find the courage to pick ourselves up and keep moving forward. But one thing I want to hold on to is the knowledge that our struggles do not define the entirety of our lives, and neither do they mean that God has abandoned us.

Isaiah reminds me that suffering will not have the final word. God's promise gives me hope that there is a joy beyond the pain, a peace beyond the uncertainty and a love that will never fail us. Although I may not always understand why certain things happen, I can remind myself that God sees the bigger picture, even when all I can see is what is immediately in front of me.

For me, this promise is also a reminder not to postpone happiness and gratitude until life becomes perfect. We sometimes spend so much time worrying about what has gone wrong or what might happen tomorrow that we forget to appreciate the blessings we already have today. I want to learn to recognise God's presence in the little things, to appreciate the people He has placed in my life and to find reasons to be grateful even during challenging seasons.

The Responsorial Psalm reinforces this feeling of comfort through the beautiful reminder that the Lord is our shepherd. He leads us, restores our strength and remains with us even when we walk through dark valleys.

What I find reassuring is that the psalm does not suggest that we will never encounter dark valleys. Rather, it reminds us that we do not have to walk through them alone. Sometimes, we may pray for God to remove a difficulty from our lives, only to discover that the situation does not change as quickly as we hoped. Perhaps, during those moments, what we need most is not an immediate solution but the strength to face another day with faith.

I want to remind myself that trusting God does not mean I will never feel afraid, disappointed or uncertain. It means that even when I experience those feelings, I can still turn to Him. I can bring Him my worries, my questions and my burdens without pretending that everything is fine. I do not have to have all the answers before I come to Him. I simply have to be willing to place my trust in Him, one day at a time.

The Gospel reading from Matthew speaks to me in a different but equally powerful way. Jesus tells us about a king who prepares a wedding banquet for his son, only for the invited guests to refuse to attend. Some are too occupied with their own affairs, while others simply disregard the invitation. The king then sends his servants to invite everyone they can find, both good and bad.

What strikes me is that the king continues extending his invitation despite being rejected. To me, this reflects the patience, generosity and mercy of God. He does not stop calling us simply because we have made mistakes, lost our way or allowed other things to take priority in our lives.

I find this comforting because I know that none of us is perfect. We all have moments when we fall short, make the wrong decisions or allow our worries and disappointments to affect our relationship with God. Yet, His invitation remains open. He continues to give us opportunities to return to Him, grow in faith and become better versions of ourselves.

However, this Gospel also makes me look honestly at my own priorities. How often do I become so occupied with my responsibilities and concerns that I forget to spend quiet time with God? How often do I become so focused on finding solutions to my problems that I forget to surrender them to Him in prayer?

It is easy to remember God when we need His help. It is sometimes harder to remain close to Him when life becomes busy or when things are going well. But I do not want my relationship with God to be based only on what I need from Him. I want to remember Him in my gratitude, in my ordinary daily routines and in the decisions I make when nobody else is watching.

The part of the Gospel about the guest who arrives without a wedding garment also gives me something to think about. The king welcomes everyone, but the guest without the appropriate garment reminds us that accepting God's invitation requires more than simply being present. We must also be willing to let our faith transform our hearts.

For me, this means looking beyond the words I say and examining the person I am becoming. Am I becoming more patient? Am I learning to forgive, even when I have been hurt? Do I treat others with kindness and respect, even when I receive nothing in return? Am I willing to admit when I am wrong and learn from my mistakes?

These are not always easy questions to answer. It is much easier to recognise the shortcomings of others than to examine our own. But I believe that genuine faith requires honesty with ourselves. I cannot expect to grow spiritually if I am unwilling to acknowledge the areas in my life that need to change.

I do not claim to be perfect, and I know I still have much to learn. But I want my faith to be reflected in the way I live, the way I treat people and the way I respond to life's challenges. I want to wear that wedding garment through my actions, by choosing compassion over judgement, forgiveness over resentment and love over indifference.

The second reading from St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians brings everything together for me. St. Paul speaks about knowing how to live with little and how to live with plenty. He has experienced different circumstances, yet he remains confident because his strength comes from Christ.

This reminds me that life will not always give us what we want, when we want it or in the way we expect it. There will be moments when we feel blessed and moments when we wonder how we will get through a difficult situation. We may have plans that do not work out, hopes that are disappointed and questions that remain unanswered.

I believe one of the hardest lessons in faith is learning to trust God without knowing exactly how things will unfold. We naturally want certainty. We want to know that our efforts will pay off, that the people we care about will be okay and that the future will turn out the way we hope. But life does not always offer those guarantees.

St. Paul's words remind me that my peace should not depend entirely on whether everything is going according to plan. His confidence in Christ does not mean that he will never experience hardship. It means that his circumstances do not determine the source of his strength.

I want to develop that kind of faith. I want to learn to be grateful when life is good without taking my blessings for granted, and to remain hopeful when life becomes difficult without allowing disappointment to consume me. I want to remember that I can bring my concerns to God and trust Him to give me the strength and wisdom I need to take the next step.

When I bring all three readings together, I see a message that speaks directly to how I want to live my life. Isaiah reminds me of the hope God has promised. The Gospel reminds me to accept His invitation and allow His love to transform me. St. Paul reminds me that whatever season of life I find myself in, I can continue to draw strength from Christ.

As I reflect on these readings, I realise that accepting God's invitation is not a once in a lifetime decision. It is something I must choose every day. It is choosing to trust Him when I feel uncertain, to turn to Him when I am struggling, to thank Him when I am blessed and to continue growing even when the lessons are difficult.

I also want to be mindful of how I respond to others. If God is willing to extend His invitation to everyone, then I too should be willing to show kindness, compassion and understanding. We never truly know what another person is going through. Sometimes, a little patience, a listening ear or a simple act of kindness can make a greater difference than we realise.

Ultimately, I want my life to reflect the faith I profess. I want to become someone who does not simply speak about God's love but makes an effort to live it. I want to remember that I do not need to have a perfect life to experience His presence, and I do not need to have everything figured out before I place my trust in Him.

My prayer is that I will never become so distracted by life's demands that I forget God's invitation. May I continue to seek Him not only when I need help, but also when I have reasons to be grateful. May I have the courage to allow Him to change what needs changing within me, and the humility to recognise that there is always room for spiritual growth.

----

Reflection: What prevents me from responding to God wholeheartedly?

I think what sometimes prevents me from responding to God wholeheartedly is my own worries, fears and the need to feel that I have some control over my life. Like many people, I can become so caught up in my responsibilities, challenges and uncertainties that I forget to surrender everything to Him and trust His plans. Sometimes, I want answers immediately, and when things do not go the way I hope, I struggle to understand why.

I know that having faith does not mean I will never have doubts or moments of weakness. It means choosing to trust God even when I cannot see the bigger picture. I am still learning to let go, be patient and remember that I do not have to carry every burden on my own.

Ultimately, I do not want to turn to God only when I need His help. I want to make Him part of my everyday life, to trust Him in both the good and difficult times, and to allow His love to transform me into a better person. I know I am not perfect, but my heart is willing to grow.

World Mental Health Day 2026: Lived Experiences Heard, Real Voices, Real Change

 

Mental health is something we need to talk about more openly, not just on World Mental Health Day, but every single day. The theme for World Mental Health Day 2026, “Lived experiences heard: real voices, real change,” speaks to me on a personal level because I believe that behind every person who struggles with their mental health is a story that deserves to be heard, understood and respected.

For too long, mental health has been a subject people find difficult to discuss openly. There is still fear of being judged, misunderstood or labelled as weak. Although awareness has improved, stigma remains, and many people continue to suffer in silence because they are afraid of how others might react.

My own struggles with mental health have taught me that some of the hardest battles are the ones nobody else can see.

One of the hardest things about struggling with mental health is that life does not stop just because you are struggling inside.

You can still get up every morning, fulfil your responsibilities, care for the people around you and smile when someone speaks to you. From the outside, everything may appear perfectly fine. People may assume you are coping well because you continue to show up and get things done.

What they may not see is the emotional exhaustion, the overthinking, the moments of feeling overwhelmed or the effort it takes just to get through another day.

My own journey has reminded me that struggling does not mean I have failed. Having difficult days does not erase the progress I have made, and feeling vulnerable does not make me any less strong.

I am human, just like everyone else. I have feelings, fears and moments when I need time to process what I am going through. I should not have to pretend that everything is fine simply to make other people comfortable.

I believe there is courage in acknowledging our struggles instead of hiding them. Being honest with ourselves about how we feel is not a weakness. It is an important step towards understanding what we need and allowing ourselves to receive support.

We should never have to prove that we are struggling enough before our pain is taken seriously.

I think one of the biggest challenges many people face is the expectation that we should always be strong.

We are often praised for being resilient, independent and dependable. While these qualities are valuable, they can also create pressure to handle everything on our own, even when we are emotionally exhausted.

But who takes care of the people who are always taking care of everyone else?

Who checks on the person who constantly encourages others, offers support and reminds everyone that things will get better?

Sometimes, the people who appear to have everything under control are simply the ones who have learned to carry their struggles quietly.

I have come to understand that strength is not about pretending nothing hurts. It is about recognizing our feelings and giving ourselves permission to experience them without shame.

We can appreciate the good things in our lives while acknowledging the things that hurt us. We can care deeply about our families and responsibilities while still experiencing emotional difficulties.

We can be strong and still need support. We can be hopeful and still have difficult days. We can be making progress and still need time to heal.

There is no contradiction in that. It is simply part of being human.

Despite greater awareness, stigma remains one of the biggest barriers preventing people from speaking openly about their mental health.

People experiencing emotional difficulties may be told to stop overthinking, toughen up, be more positive or remember that others have it worse. Sometimes, they are made to feel that their struggles reflect a lack of strength or an inability to cope with life.

These comments may not always come from a place of cruelty, but they can leave people feeling dismissed and misunderstood.

Mental health is not a competition. Someone else's suffering does not make our own struggles any less real.

We would not normally tell someone with a physical injury to ignore the pain and carry on as though nothing happened. Yet when someone is struggling emotionally, there can be an expectation that they should simply pull themselves together.

Why should emotional pain be treated differently?

I hope we can move away from this mindset and become more accepting of people experiencing mental health challenges. We do not need to fully understand someone's struggles to treat them with compassion. We do not need to have experienced the same pain to listen without judgement.

Nobody should have to worry that being honest about their mental health will cause others to question their abilities, treat them differently or see them as less capable.

People deserve to be seen for who they are, not defined by what they are going through.

I hope the day will come when talking about mental health feels as natural as talking about physical health. People should feel safe enough to share their experiences, seek professional help and ask for support without fearing the labels society might place on them.

Awareness is important, but awareness alone is not enough. We need greater understanding, acceptance and a willingness to change how we respond to those who are struggling.

This year's theme, “Lived experiences heard: real voices, real change,” reminds us that mental health is not simply a topic for reports, discussions or awareness campaigns. It affects real people, their relationships, their responsibilities and their everyday lives.

Behind every statistic is a person with hopes, dreams and challenges that others may never fully see.

When people share their experiences, they help others understand what mental health struggles can look like beyond the surface. Their stories can challenge misconceptions and remind someone who feels alone that they are not the only one facing difficult times.

We never know who might need to hear our words. Someone reading our story may have been struggling in silence, afraid to seek help or convinced that nobody would understand.

Sometimes, knowing that another person has faced similar challenges can make it easier to speak up and take the first step towards getting support.

However, sharing personal experiences should always be a choice. Nobody should feel pressured to reveal private details about their mental health to educate others or prove that their struggles are real. Everyone deserves the freedom to decide what they are comfortable sharing.

Listening to lived experiences also means resisting the urge to judge, interrupt or immediately offer solutions. Sometimes, people do not need us to fix everything. They simply need someone who is willing to listen and acknowledge what they are feeling.

Real change begins when we stop treating mental health as an uncomfortable subject and start treating people with the understanding they deserve.

My journey with mental health has also reminded me of the importance of being kinder to myself.

We can be understanding towards the people we love while being incredibly hard on ourselves. We tell others that they do not have to be perfect and that it is okay to rest, yet we may struggle to extend that same kindness to ourselves.

I am learning that I do not need to have everything figured out all the time. My worth is not measured by how much I accomplish, how many responsibilities I carry or how well I hide my struggles.

There is nothing wrong with taking a step back when we need to. There is nothing wrong with admitting that something is affecting us emotionally, and there is certainly nothing wrong with asking for help.

Mental health journeys are not always straightforward. There may be good days and difficult days, moments of clarity and moments of uncertainty. What matters is that we continue to give ourselves the patience and compassion we need.

Resilience is not about never falling apart. It is about learning to recognize our limits, finding healthy ways to cope and accepting support when we need it.

Seeking help is not a failure of independence. It is an acknowledgement that we are human and that we do not have to carry every burden alone.

As we mark World Mental Health Day 2026, I hope we will do more than share a post, use a hashtag or acknowledge the importance of mental wellbeing for one day.

I hope parents will teach their children that emotions are nothing to be ashamed of. I hope workplaces will create environments where employees can speak about their wellbeing without fear of judgement. I hope families will learn to listen with greater patience, and I hope friends will check in on one another and genuinely care about the answers.

Most importantly, I hope we will stop assuming that we know what someone is going through simply because of what we see.

We may not know the story behind someone's silence, tears or decision to withdraw for a while. Instead of jumping to conclusions, we can choose kindness. Instead of criticizing, we can offer understanding.

We may not be able to solve every problem or take away another person's pain, but we can make the world a little less lonely for those who are struggling.

That, to me, is what real change looks like.

My mental health journey is part of my life, but it does not define my entire identity. I am more than my difficult days and more than the moments when I feel overwhelmed. I am someone who continues to learn, grow and find the strength to keep going, while recognizing that I do not have to face everything alone.

If there is one message I hope people take away from this World Mental Health Day, it is this: please be kinder to one another, because you never truly know what someone is going through behind closed doors.

To anyone struggling with their mental health, please know that you are not weak, you are not a burden, and you are not less deserving of love or respect because of what you are experiencing. Your feelings matter, your experiences matter and your voice deserves to be heard.

You do not have to pretend to be okay just to make other people comfortable. You deserve to be supported and accepted as you are.

And to those who may not personally understand mental health struggles, I hope you will be willing to listen and learn. You do not need all the answers. Sometimes, patience, compassion and a willingness to listen without judgement can make a meaningful difference.

Let us work towards a society where people no longer feel compelled to suffer in silence because they are afraid of being judged. Let us create spaces where honesty is welcomed, vulnerability is respected and seeking help is encouraged rather than questioned.

Mental health awareness should not end when World Mental Health Day is over. It should be reflected in our conversations, our relationships, our workplaces, our families and the way we treat one another every day.

Real voices deserve to be heard. Real experiences deserve to be respected. Real change begins when we choose understanding over judgement and acceptance over stigma.

That is the change I hope to see, not just in 2026, but for generations to come.

Who Helped Me Become a Better Version of Myself

 

When someone asks me who helped me become a better version of myself, I could probably give them many names. But if I am being completely honest, I think the answer is much deeper than that.

It is a story of people who loved me, people who believed in me, people who stood beside me, people who challenged me, and even people who hurt me. Every one of them left something behind. Some left memories I will treasure forever. Some left scars that took a long time to heal. Some taught me what love should feel like, while others taught me what love should never feel like. Somewhere in between all of those experiences, I became the woman I am today.

I was not always this strong. There were times when I questioned myself, times when I wondered if I was enough, and times when I wondered whether I was too sensitive, too emotional, too trusting or simply expecting too much from people. There were moments when life felt incredibly heavy and I had no idea how I was going to carry everything I was carrying. But somehow, I did. I kept going.

Looking back now, I realize that the people in my life helped me become stronger in ways they may never fully understand. Some did it through love and encouragement. Others did it through difficult experiences that forced me to find strength I did not know I had.

My parents were among the first people to shape the person I became. They taught me about family, responsibility, sacrifice and the importance of being there for the people you love. As I have grown older, I have come to understand my parents differently.

When we are young, we sometimes take our parents for granted. We assume they will always be there. We do not always appreciate the sacrifices they made or the things they quietly carried for us. But growing older changes your perspective. Today, being able to care for my parents feels like a blessing. There is something deeply humbling about caring for the people who once cared for you. The hands that once held ours eventually become the hands we want to hold.

My children have also played an enormous part in making me who I am. When I became a mother, my life was no longer only about me. I had little people depending on me, watching me and learning from me. I wanted to protect them from every disappointment, every heartbreak and every difficulty life could bring.

Of course, I eventually learned that I could not protect them from everything. As much as we want to protect our children, we have to let them experience life for themselves. We have to allow them to make mistakes, find their own identity and discover their own path. My children taught me that love sometimes means holding on, and sometimes it means letting go.

They taught me patience, forgiveness and acceptance. They taught me that no matter how old they become, they will always have a piece of my heart that sees them as the little children they once were. Perhaps one of the greatest things they taught me is that being a mother does not mean being perfect. It means showing up. It means doing your best. It means loving even when you are tired and continuing to be there even when you do not have all the answers.

I have also been shaped by people who came into my life during difficult chapters. Some people saw my strength when I could not see it myself. They listened when I needed to talk, encouraged me when I doubted myself and reminded me that I was capable of more than I thought.

Sometimes we underestimate the power of having someone simply believe in us. A person does not always need to rescue us. Sometimes they just need to remind us that we can rescue ourselves. Those people have been gifts in my life, and I will always be grateful for them.

But I would be lying if I said everyone who shaped me was kind to me. Some of the biggest lessons I have learned came from people who hurt me.

There were experiences that made me question my own worth. There were times when I gave too much of myself to people who did not appreciate it. There were times when I stayed quiet because I did not want to be a burden or cause problems. There were moments when I wondered whether asking for love, respect, understanding and reassurance was somehow asking for too much.

It took me a long time to realize that it was not.

I was simply learning where I belonged and where I did not.

The people who hurt me taught me something that I desperately needed to learn. I cannot control how other people treat me, but I can control what I accept. I can choose my boundaries. I can choose when to walk away. I can choose not to keep explaining my worth to someone who has already decided not to see it.

That lesson changed me.

I became more aware of myself. I learned that being kind does not mean allowing people to hurt me repeatedly. Being loving does not mean losing myself. Being forgiving does not mean forgetting the lesson. Having a big heart does not mean I have to give everyone unlimited access to it.

Perhaps this is where I began to truly become a better version of myself. Not when everything became easy, but when I stopped allowing difficult experiences to define me.

I could have become bitter. There were certainly moments when I had every reason to be. But I did not want the things that happened to me to turn me into someone I did not recognize. I wanted to remain kind. I wanted to remain loving. I wanted to remain capable of seeing the good in people. But I also wanted to become wiser.

There is a difference between being innocent and being wise.

I no longer want to carry the baggage of every person who has hurt me. I want to carry the lesson. That is something I have learned with age. We cannot change our past. We cannot go back and protect the younger version of ourselves from every painful experience. But we can look back at that younger person with compassion.

We can tell her that she did the best she could with what she knew at the time. We can tell her that she survived things she once thought would break her. And we can tell her that she became stronger.

I sometimes think about everything I have been through and I am amazed that I am still capable of loving so deeply. That, to me, is strength.

Strength is not never being hurt. Strength is being hurt and choosing not to become cruel. Strength is crying and then getting up the next morning. Strength is admitting that you are struggling instead of pretending everything is fine. Strength is knowing when you need someone, and it is also knowing when you need to stand on your own.

I have learned that I can be both strong and vulnerable. I can be independent and still want companionship. I can care deeply and still have boundaries. I can be emotional and still be resilient. I can admit that something hurt me without allowing it to control my life.

I do not think becoming a better version of myself means becoming a completely different person. It means becoming more comfortable with who I really am.

For years, I thought I had to change myself to be accepted. Now I understand that the right people will not require me to shrink myself. They will not make me feel ashamed for caring. They will not make me feel like my emotions are a weakness. They will appreciate my heart while also respecting my boundaries.

And perhaps the person who deserves the most credit for who I have become is me.

I do not say that from a place of arrogance. I say it from a place of gratitude. Because there were moments when nobody could make the decision for me to keep going. I had to make that decision myself.

I had to get out of bed. I had to pick myself up. I had to wipe my own tears. I had to tell myself that tomorrow could be better. I had to learn to believe in myself again.

And I did.

Not perfectly. Not all at once. But little by little.

Every difficult chapter added another layer of strength. Every disappointment taught me something. Every person who loved me reminded me that I was worthy of love. Every person who hurt me taught me to value myself more. Every challenge showed me that I could survive more than I thought I could.

Today, I look at my life differently.

I am grateful for the people who stayed. I am grateful for the people who loved me. I am grateful for the people who believed in me. And strangely, I am even grateful for some of the people who hurt me. Not because I enjoyed the pain, but because I would not have learned certain lessons without it.

They helped me discover boundaries. They helped me discover courage. They helped me discover my own voice. Most importantly, they helped me discover that I am stronger than I ever gave myself credit for.

So, who helped me become a better version of myself?

My parents. My children. The people who loved me. The people who believed in me. The people who challenged me. The people who hurt me. The people who stayed. And the people who left.

But ultimately, it was also me.

It was the woman who kept going when she was tired. The woman who loved even after being hurt. The woman who chose forgiveness over bitterness. The woman who learned to say no. The woman who learned that her feelings matter. The woman who realized that she does not have to prove her worth to anyone.

It was the woman who looked at everything she had survived and decided that her story was not going to end there.

I am still becoming. I still have things to learn. I still have moments when I doubt myself. I still get emotional. I still overthink. I still have days when I need reassurance. But I no longer see those things as proof that I am weak. They are simply part of being human.

I have learned that becoming a better version of myself is not about becoming perfect. It is about becoming more honest with myself. It is about learning from yesterday without living in it. It is about appreciating the people who have helped me without allowing the people who hurt me to define me. It is about choosing love while still choosing myself.

And when I look back at the woman I once was, I do not judge her.

I am proud of her.

She survived. She loved. She tried. She fell. She got back up. She made mistakes. She learned. And she kept going.

Everything I have experienced has brought me here. Every person has played a part. Every chapter has taught me something. Every scar reminds me that I made it through.

I do not need to forget the difficult parts of my story to be happy with who I am today. Those difficult parts are part of me too. They remind me of how far I have come and how much strength it took to get here.

The truth is, I am still a work in progress, and I think I always will be.

I want to keep learning. I want to keep growing. I want to continue becoming kinder, wiser, stronger and more courageous. I want to love deeply without losing myself. I want to give generously without forgetting my own needs. I want to keep my heart soft while becoming wise enough to protect it.

When I think about who helped me become a better version of myself, I no longer look for one person.

I see a lifetime of people, experiences, love, loss, lessons and choices.

And then I see myself standing in the middle of it all.

Still here.

Still learning.

Still loving.

Still growing.

Still becoming.

Perhaps that is the greatest lesson of all.

The better version of myself was never someone I had to become for other people.

She was always there.

Life simply had to teach me how to find her.

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Faithful Stewards

This Sunday’s readings really made me stop and think about how easily we can forget that we are stewards, not owners, of the lives we have been given. So much of what we have can sometimes feel like it belongs entirely to us. Our homes, our money, our careers, our possessions, our time, our abilities and even the people we love. We work hard for these things, so naturally we feel that we have earned them. Yet the readings remind us that ultimately, everything we have is something God has entrusted to us.

The image of the vineyard in both the first reading from Isaiah and the Gospel is a beautiful reminder of this. God carefully plants the vineyard, tends to it, protects it and gives it everything it needs to grow. In return, He expects it to bear good fruit. But instead of finding good fruit, He finds injustice, violence and suffering. In the Gospel, the tenants become so possessive of the vineyard that they forget it was never theirs to begin with. They reject the servants sent by the owner and eventually even kill his beloved son.

That really made me reflect on how we sometimes behave in our own lives. We can become so focused on what we have achieved that we forget where our blessings came from. We can become proud of our success, our abilities or the things we have accumulated, and slowly begin to believe that everything is because of us. But the truth is that none of us gets through life completely on our own.

There have been people who believed in us when we doubted ourselves. There have been people who helped us when we needed help, encouraged us when we were struggling and stood beside us during difficult seasons. There have also been opportunities that came our way that we could never have planned for ourselves. And behind all of it is God, quietly giving us the strength, grace and opportunities to keep going.

That is why I find the idea of being a steward so meaningful. Being a steward means understanding that what has been placed in our hands has also been given a purpose. God gives us our gifts and abilities so that we can use them. He gives us people to love so that we can care for them. He gives us time so that we can use it wisely. He gives us opportunities so that we can make something good out of them.

Perhaps the question is not simply, “What do I have?” Perhaps the more important question is, “What am I doing with what God has given me?”

As I get older, I find myself thinking about this more. Life has taught me that we can spend so much time chasing the next thing that we forget to appreciate what is already in front of us. We worry about earning more, achieving more and becoming more successful, while sometimes overlooking the people and blessings God has already placed in our lives.

At the end of the day, none of us can take our possessions, achievements or wealth with us. One day, we will leave all of it behind. What remains is the kind of life we lived and the impact we had on the people around us.

Did we love enough?

Did we help when we could?

Did we forgive?

Did we make someone's difficult day a little easier?

Did we care for the people God entrusted to us?

Did we use our blessings to bless others?

These are the things I believe truly matter.

Sometimes we think bearing good fruit means doing something big or extraordinary. But perhaps it is much simpler than that. Good fruit can be found in the little things we do every day. It can be caring for our parents, being there for our children, supporting a friend, helping someone who is struggling, doing our work honestly or simply choosing kindness when we have every reason to be angry.

It can also mean having the courage to forgive, the humility to admit when we are wrong and the generosity to give without expecting anything in return. Sometimes the smallest acts of love can make the biggest difference in someone's life.

The readings also remind me that God is patient with us. He gives us opportunities to change, to learn and to grow. None of us lives a perfect life. We make mistakes. We make wrong decisions. We sometimes hurt people unintentionally. There are also moments when we look back and wish we had handled things differently.

But I have learned that we cannot change the past. What we can do is learn from it and choose to do better moving forward. Every new day is another opportunity to bear better fruit.

For me, being a faithful steward does not mean having everything figured out. It means doing the best I can with what I have been given. It means being grateful for the blessings while also remembering that they come with responsibility.

My family, my work, my relationships, my experiences, my strengths and even the difficult seasons that have shaped me are all part of the vineyard God has entrusted to me. I may not always understand why certain things happen. I may not always know exactly where the road ahead is leading. But I can choose how I respond to what God places in my hands.

And I want to bear good fruit.

Not necessarily fruit that the world will notice or applaud, but fruit that God will recognize. I want my life to reflect love, gratitude, kindness, generosity and faith. I want the people around me to know that they are cared for. I want to use whatever abilities and opportunities I have to make a difference, even if that difference seems small.

Because perhaps that is what God is asking of all of us.

We are not the owners of this vineyard. We are simply the people entrusted to care for it for a while. Our time here is temporary, but what we do with that time matters.

This Sunday, I am reminded to be grateful for what I have rather than constantly focusing on what I don't have. I am reminded to stop taking my blessings for granted and to be more intentional about how I use them. Most importantly, I am reminded that a meaningful life is not measured by how much we accumulate, but by how much love we give.

Lord, help me never to forget that everything I have is a gift from You. Give me the wisdom to use my blessings well, the humility to remember that they are entrusted to me and the generosity to share them with others.

Help me to bear good fruit through the way I love, the way I work, the way I care and the way I live.

And when my time in this vineyard is over, may I be able to look back with a grateful heart and know that I did my best with everything You entrusted to me.

Amen. 

---

Reflection: Do I recognize that all 1 have belongs first to God?

Yes, I do. Everything I have is ultimately a gift from God, and I am reminded that I am only a steward of these blessings.

My family, my work, my abilities, my opportunities and everything I have worked hard for would not be possible without God's grace and guidance. I may work hard to build and provide for my family, but I know that God is the one who gives me the strength and opportunities to do so.

This reminds me to be grateful and not take anything for granted. Whatever God has placed in my hands, I have a responsibility to use it wisely, care for it and, where I can, use my blessings to help and bless others.

I may not always understand God's plans, but I trust that everything I have is His before it is mine. My role is simply to be a faithful steward and make the best of what He has entrusted to me. 

Movie Recommendation: The Wrong Nanny (2017)

 

I have to admit, The Wrong Nanny was not quite what I expected it to be.

When I first started watching it, I thought I was settling in for one of those typical Lifetime thrillers. You know the kind. There is a seemingly perfect family, someone new comes into their lives, something feels slightly off, and before you know it, everything starts falling apart.

And honestly, I enjoy those movies. I like the suspense, the secrets, the unexpected twists and those moments when you find yourself sitting there thinking, “Why on earth would you do that?”

But this one got to me in a completely different way.

The story centres around Stella Armstrong, a mother of twins who is trying to keep everything together while also organizing a fundraiser in memory of her mother. Like so many mothers, she has a lot on her plate and needs some extra help with the children. That is where Blake comes in.

At first, Blake seems like the perfect nanny.

She is sweet, helpful and caring. There is nothing about her that immediately makes you think she is someone Stella should be worried about. But, of course, this is a Lifetime movie, so we know there is more going on than meets the eye.

And then comes the revelation.

Blake is actually Stella's daughter.

The daughter Stella gave up for adoption many years earlier.

That was the moment when the movie really changed for me.

Suddenly, this was no longer just a story about a nanny who was hiding something. It became a story about a mother and daughter who had been separated for years, a past that had never really been resolved and a young woman carrying an enormous amount of hurt.

But Blake has not come back looking for a loving reunion.

She has come back for revenge.

And this is where I found myself feeling incredibly conflicted.

I was frightened by Blake and by what she was capable of doing, but at the same time, I felt sorry for her. You could see the pain behind her anger. You could feel that this was someone who had spent years wondering about the mother who had given her away and trying to make sense of her own life.

That is what I found so interesting about Freya Tingley's performance as Blake.

She did not make Blake feel like a simple villain. There were moments when I could see the hurt, the loneliness and the longing underneath everything she was doing. You could almost understand why she was angry, even though some of the things she did were completely wrong.

And that made me uncomfortable in a good way.

I found myself thinking, “I understand why you are hurting, but I really wish you had chosen a different way to deal with it.”

There were moments when I felt heartbroken for her and moments when I was sitting there wondering what she was going to do next. That emotional tug of war made the movie much more interesting for me.

What really stayed with me was the subject of abandonment.

There is something incredibly painful about growing up wondering where you came from, who your parents are and why they made the choices they did. We do not always know what someone has carried quietly for years. Sometimes the wounds that are invisible can be the deepest ones.

The movie also made me think about motherhood and the decisions we make in life.

Stella had made a decision many years earlier to give her daughter up for adoption. Whatever her reasons were at the time, she eventually had to face the consequences of that decision years later. Life had moved on. She had a family of her own and twins who depended on her. But the past had not disappeared.

It had simply been waiting.

And sometimes, I think, that is how life works.

We can put something behind us and convince ourselves that we have moved on, but that does not necessarily mean the emotions connected to it have disappeared. Unresolved hurt has a way of resurfacing when we least expect it.

Of course, The Wrong Nanny is still a Lifetime thriller, so there are definitely moments where you have to suspend reality a little. Some scenes are dramatic, some situations are exaggerated and there are definitely moments when I found myself talking back to the television!

But that is part of what makes these movies entertaining.

What surprised me was how much this particular story made me think after the movie was over.

It made me think about family and how complicated family relationships can be. It made me think about the choices we make and how those choices can affect other people, sometimes many years later. Most of all, it made me think about how much damage can come from carrying anger and resentment without ever finding a way to heal from them.

I also found myself thinking about forgiveness.

Not because everything that happened in the movie could simply be forgiven or forgotten. Some things have consequences. But because forgiveness can sometimes be more about freeing yourself from the pain you have been carrying than pretending that the hurt never happened.

Blake wanted answers. She wanted acknowledgement. She wanted to matter to the mother she felt had abandoned her.

Sadly, instead of finding a healthy way to deal with all those emotions, her pain became anger, and her anger became revenge.

And that, to me, was the saddest part of the story.

Underneath all the suspense and drama, I think The Wrong Nanny is really a story about broken relationships and the desire to belong.

It reminded me that people can look perfectly fine on the outside while carrying years of hurt on the inside. It also reminded me that our past can shape us, but it does not have to control what we become.

Would I recommend this movie?

Yes, I would.

If you enjoy Lifetime movies, suspense, family secrets and stories with a psychological and emotional element, I think this is one worth adding to your movie list.

Just do not expect it to be simply another story about a troublesome nanny.

The Wrong Nanny was really about a mother, a daughter, a past that was never properly dealt with and what can happen when old wounds are allowed to grow.

It was suspenseful, dramatic and, at times, a little over the top, but it also had an emotional side that I was not expecting.

And perhaps that is why it stayed with me.

Sometimes a movie gives you a few hours of entertainment and then you forget about it.

Other times, a movie makes you think about life, family, choices and the things people carry silently.

The Wrong Nanny was definitely the second kind for me.

And yes, I would watch it again.