The Importance of Values

 I have always been pretty sure of my values, although I do not think I fully understood how much they shaped my life until a few years ago. Looking back, I realize that my values have always been there, quietly influencing my decisions, the people I surround myself with, and the way I choose to live. I just never really stopped to think about them in the way I eventually did.

It happened during a group coaching session at work. I believe it was our second session, and the coaches asked us to identify our personal values. What surprised me was that some people genuinely had to stop and think about what their values were. For me, the answers came quite naturally. I did not need to complete an exercise or spend a long time figuring them out. I could name the things that mattered to me without much hesitation.

I remember being surprised by this. It had never occurred to me that people might not know their own values, or that they might need help identifying them. I had always assumed that most people knew what mattered to them and what guided their decisions.

The coaches then asked us to consider how our values aligned with our jobs. That was when something clicked for me. I realized that my values were not simply a list of things I believed in. They were the foundation upon which I made many of my life decisions. They influenced what I was willing to accept, what I was prepared to walk away from, and what I wanted to experience in life. I had probably known this subconsciously for years. I just had never brought it to the forefront of my mind.

Thinking back, I also realized that my values did not simply appear out of nowhere. They developed as I grew older, shaped by the people I loved, the experiences I had and the lessons I picked up along the way.

One of the biggest values in my life is happiness. I grew up with the belief that we should pursue what makes us happy rather than spend our lives trying to meet everyone else's expectations. I recognize that there is immense privilege in having people around us who encourage us to find our own happiness. Not everyone has that kind of support or the freedom to make choices based on what they want. I do not take that for granted, and I believe it has played a significant role in shaping the way I look at life.

Over time, I have come to understand that happiness is not always about exciting experiences, achievements or getting everything I want. Sometimes, it is an internal state. It is being comfortable with who I am, knowing that I have made choices I can live with, and finding contentment in the life I am building.

I have responsibilities, of course, and I understand that not every decision can be made purely on the basis of what makes me happy. But I also believe that happiness matters. We should not spend our entire lives making everyone else comfortable while quietly making ourselves miserable. For me, happiness is not about having a perfect life. It is about having a life that feels like mine.

Another value that has become increasingly important to me is growth. I believe this has a lot to do with the people I surround myself with and the mindset I have developed over the years. I have been fortunate to be around people who believe in learning from mistakes, becoming better versions of ourselves and understanding that improvement matters more than perfection.

I have never believed that we need to get everything right the first time. We are human. We make mistakes, we get things wrong, and sometimes we make decisions that we later realize were not the best ones. That is life. What matters to me is what we do afterwards. Do we learn from the experience? Do we take responsibility? Do we make an effort to improve? Or do we keep repeating the same mistakes while expecting different results?

Growth requires honesty with ourselves. It means acknowledging that we do not know everything and being willing to learn, even when doing so challenges what we have always believed. It also means accepting that we are works in progress. There is always something new to learn, a different perspective to consider or an opportunity to become better at what we do.

Looking back at my adult life, I can see how often growth has influenced my decisions. When considering a job, I think about what I can learn and whether the experience will help me develop. When I chose to embrace a nomadic lifestyle, it was partly because I wanted to experience more of the world and discover what life could offer beyond what I already knew. Even talking to people and engaging with different perspectives can be an opportunity to grow.

I am curious about life, and I do not want to reach a point where I stop learning simply because I am comfortable. Comfort has its place, but I do not believe we should allow it to become a cage.

This is where I think the importance of knowing our values becomes especially clear. Life will always present us with choices, and not all of them will be easy. Sometimes, we have to decide between what is familiar and what offers us an opportunity to grow. At other times, we have to choose between pleasing others and staying true to ourselves.

Knowing our values does not mean that making decisions suddenly becomes easy. It simply gives us a clearer sense of direction. When we understand what matters to us, we have something to refer to when we feel uncertain or when the expectations of others threaten to drown out our own voice.

Our values can also help us understand why certain situations bother us more than others. Sometimes, what frustrates us is connected to something we deeply believe in. If we value honesty, dishonesty may affect us more than it affects someone else. If we value growth, being in an environment where there is no room to learn or improve may leave us feeling stuck. Recognizing these connections allows us to understand ourselves better and make more conscious choices.

Of course, having strong values does not mean we will always get things right. We can still make poor decisions, get caught up in our emotions or find ourselves in situations that challenge what we believe. What matters is our willingness to reflect, learn and make adjustments when necessary.

I also believe that values can evolve as we move through life. Some remain constant, while others become more important as our experiences and priorities change. The key is to keep checking in with ourselves and making sure we are living in a way that reflects what genuinely matters to us.

Understanding our values can also help us build better relationships. When we know what matters to us, we become more aware of the people who respect those values and the environments in which we can thrive. At the same time, we learn to accept that other people may have different values. We do not all have to think alike or make the same choices. What matters is being honest about who we are while respecting the freedom of others to do the same.

That group coaching session taught me something I had never really considered before. Knowing my values was something I had taken for granted, and I had not realized that identifying them could be a challenge for other people. More importantly, it made me recognize just how much my values had influenced the life I had built.

Today, when I look at my life, I can see how happiness and growth have guided so many of my decisions. They have influenced the opportunities I pursue, the people I keep close and the experiences I want to have. They remind me that life is not about following a path simply because everyone else is walking it.

Ultimately, I believe the importance of values lies in the direction they give our lives. They remind us of what matters when we become distracted by what everyone else thinks should matter. They help us make choices that feel authentic to us, even when those choices do not make sense to everyone around us.

We spend so much time trying to figure out what we want from life that perhaps we should also spend time asking ourselves what we want our lives to stand for.

Success means different things to different people, and happiness means different things too. There is no single formula for living a meaningful life. For me, it comes down to continuing to grow, finding happiness in the life I choose to live, and remaining true to the things that matter to me.

I may not always get everything right, but I want to know that the decisions I make are guided by values I believe in, rather than expectations I feel pressured to meet.

After all, this is my life. I want to live it in a way that feels right to me, while continuing to learn, grow and become the person I know I can be.

The Power of Saying No: Learning to Choose Myself Without Feeling Guilty

There comes a point in life when we need to understand that saying yes to everyone does not make us a better person, and saying no does not make us a bad one. For the longest time, many of us have been taught to be helpful, accommodating, understanding, and kind. We are encouraged to consider other people's feelings, lend a helping hand, and do what we can to make life easier for those around us. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with being kind, we sometimes forget one very important person in the process. Ourselves.

I have come to realize that life is too short to spend it constantly trying to please everyone. No matter how much we do, how far we go out of our way, or how many sacrifices we make, there will always be someone who expects more from us. The question is, at what point do we stop stretching ourselves thin just to meet everyone else's expectations?

Learning to say no is not selfishness. It is self respect.

I believe in giving my best in whatever I do. Whether it is my work, my writing, my family, or the people I care about, I want to know that I have put my heart into it. When I commit to something, I take that commitment seriously. I believe in being responsible, doing things properly, and giving people the respect they deserve. However, I have also learnt that giving your best does not mean giving everything you have until there is nothing left for yourself.

There is a difference between helping someone because you genuinely want to and agreeing to something because you are afraid of disappointing them. There is a difference between being generous with your time and allowing people to assume that your time is always available to them. Sometimes, we say yes because we do not want to hurt someone's feelings. Sometimes, we say yes because we are afraid of being judged. Other times, we say yes because we have become so accustomed to being the dependable person that we feel guilty when we cannot meet someone's expectations.

But think about this. If we keep putting everyone else first, who is looking after us?

Our time is limited. Our energy is limited. Our emotional capacity is limited. We cannot be everything to everyone, and we should not have to be. Taking care of ourselves is not an act of selfishness. It is a necessary part of living a balanced and meaningful life.

Of course, learning to say no is easier said than done, especially when we care about the people involved. One of the hardest things about setting boundaries is accepting that not everyone will be happy with our decisions. Some people are so used to having access to our time, attention, and help that the moment we say no, they may see us differently. They may think we have changed, become difficult, or stopped caring.

But perhaps we have changed. Perhaps we have finally learnt to value ourselves enough to stop agreeing to things that leave us feeling exhausted, frustrated, or taken for granted. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I have always believed that relationships should be built on mutual respect. Whether it is a friendship, a family relationship, or a professional connection, respect should never be conditional on how much we are willing to do for someone. If a person only appreciates us when we agree with them, help them, or make life convenient for them, it is worth asking ourselves whether they appreciate us as a person or simply appreciate what we can do for them.

People who genuinely care about us may feel disappointed when we cannot help them, but they should still respect our decisions. They may not always agree with our boundaries, but they should not make us feel guilty for having them. We need to stop believing that keeping everyone happy is our responsibility. It is not.

Sometimes, the guilt we feel comes from the expectations we have placed on ourselves. We want to be the person others can depend on. We want to be known as someone who is always willing to help. We want people to know that we care. There is nothing wrong with any of that, but we must remember that being a good person does not mean saying yes to everything.

I have come to appreciate that we do not need to write an entire essay to explain every decision we make. Sometimes, a simple and respectful no is enough. We do not have to attend every gathering we are invited to. We do not have to accept every request that comes our way. We do not have to keep giving our time to people who consistently leave us feeling drained. We do not have to sacrifice our own priorities simply because someone else has decided that their needs should come first.

Of course, life involves responsibilities, relationships, and obligations. There will be times when compromise is necessary, and there will be situations where we need to put others before ourselves. Saying no does not mean refusing to help anyone or believing that our needs are more important than everybody else's. It means knowing the difference between what we can reasonably give and what we should no longer be expected to give.

As we grow older, we begin to see life differently. We realize that our time is one of the most valuable things we have, and once it is gone, we cannot get it back. I would rather spend my time doing things that bring meaning to my life, growing as a person, working towards my goals, spending quality time with my loved ones, and pursuing the things that make me happy.

I want to continue learning, writing, creating, exploring new opportunities, and making the most of the life God has given me. I want to look back on my life knowing that I made choices based on what truly mattered to me, rather than spending years trying to satisfy everyone else's expectations. That does not mean I do not care about people. I do. But caring about others should not require me to abandon myself.

We can be kind without being constantly available. We can be helpful without taking responsibility for everyone's problems. We can love people without agreeing with every decision they make. We can be respectful without allowing others to walk all over us. Most importantly, we can say no without feeling that we owe the world an apology.

At the end of the day, nobody else can live our lives for us. Nobody else can decide what makes us happy, what our priorities should be, or what we need to let go of in order to move forward. People will always have opinions. Some will support our choices, while others will question them. Some will understand our boundaries, while others will struggle to accept them. We cannot control how people react to our decisions, but we can control whether we continue to compromise our wellbeing just to keep them comfortable.

I believe one of the greatest lessons we can learn in life is that peace does not come from pleasing everyone. Sometimes, peace comes from being brave enough to disappoint someone else rather than repeatedly disappointing ourselves.

So, the next time someone asks you to do something that does not sit right with you, take a moment before agreeing. Ask yourself whether you genuinely want to do it, whether you have the time and energy for it, and whether saying yes would mean neglecting something that matters more to you. If your honest answer is no, then allow yourself to say it. You do not need to be unkind or confrontational. You simply need to be honest.

Remember, your life is not a competition to see how much you can do for other people. It is an opportunity to live meaningfully, love sincerely, grow continuously, and make choices that reflect who you are and who you want to become. Be kind. Be generous. Be understanding. Give when you can and help when it is within your means. But never forget to extend that same kindness and understanding to yourself.

You do not owe everyone a yes. You owe yourself the honesty to know when the answer should be no.

And if choosing yourself means that some people no longer find you as convenient as they once did, perhaps that is something you need to make peace with. Because at the end of the day, I would rather live a life that is true to who I am than spend my entire life trying to be the person everyone else wants me to be.

Sometimes, the most powerful word you can say is simply no. Say it with respect. Say it with confidence. Say it without guilt. And most importantly, say it when saying yes would mean saying no to yourself. 

Maybe It’s Not You, Maybe It’s Your Circle

There comes a point in life when we need to stop questioning ourselves every time we feel uncomfortable around certain people. We wonder whether we are too sensitive, too quiet, too emotional, or simply too different. We question why we feel drained after certain conversations, why we hesitate before speaking our minds, and why being around some people feels more exhausting than spending time alone. We begin to believe that something must be wrong with us. But what if the problem is not always within us? What if, sometimes, the people around us are simply not the right people for us?

Sometimes it's not social anxiety. Sometimes the people around you just suck.

It may sound blunt, but there is a truth in that statement that many of us need to hear. Not every uncomfortable feeling is a personal weakness. Not every moment of silence means we lack confidence. Not every decision to withdraw means we are afraid of people. Sometimes, our discomfort is a response to an environment where we do not feel respected, valued, accepted, or emotionally safe.

I have come to realize that the company we keep can influence how we see ourselves. When we are surrounded by people who encourage us, appreciate our presence, and allow us to be ourselves, we naturally feel more comfortable expressing who we are. We laugh more freely, speak more confidently, and feel less pressure to prove our worth. We do not have to rehearse every sentence in our heads or worry about whether our words will be misunderstood.

But place us in an environment filled with judgment, negativity, unnecessary competition, gossip, or subtle put downs, and even the most confident person can begin to question themselves. We become more cautious. We think twice before speaking. We start measuring our words and adjusting our behaviour just to avoid upsetting someone. Slowly, without even realizing it, we begin shrinking ourselves to fit into spaces that were never meant to make us feel small.

And that is a painful way to live.

I believe there is a difference between working on ourselves and constantly blaming ourselves for how other people treat us. Personal growth is important. We should always be willing to reflect on our behaviour, acknowledge our shortcomings, and learn from our experiences. I know that I am not perfect, and I do not expect myself or anyone else to be. We all have things to work on.

However, self awareness should never become an excuse to tolerate disrespect. Being mature does not mean accepting every hurtful comment with a smile. Being kind does not mean allowing people to take advantage of our kindness. Being understanding does not mean making endless excuses for those who repeatedly make us feel inadequate.

There is a difference between someone who challenges us to become better and someone who constantly makes us feel that we are never good enough.

The first encourages growth. The second slowly erodes our confidence.

Sometimes, we spend so much time trying to understand other people's behaviour that we forget to pay attention to how their behaviour affects us. We make excuses for their negativity because perhaps they are having a difficult time. We overlook their disrespect because we do not want to appear difficult. We remain silent because we want to keep the peace. We tell ourselves that perhaps we are overreacting, that perhaps we should be more patient, or that perhaps we simply need to toughen up.

But how many times must we dismiss our own feelings before we realize that we deserve better?

I have learned that protecting our peace sometimes requires us to accept uncomfortable truths. Not everyone who enters our lives is meant to stay. Not everyone who smiles at us genuinely wishes us well. Not everyone who has access to us deserves access to our hearts, our energy, or our personal struggles.

And that is okay.

We do not need to turn every disappointment into a confrontation. We do not need to explain ourselves to everyone who misunderstands us. We do not need to prove our intentions to people who have already decided to see the worst in us. Sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is quietly step back, observe the situation for what it is, and choose not to participate in the negativity.

Distance is not always an act of anger. Sometimes, it is an act of self respect.

I also believe that there is something beautiful about reaching a stage in life when we no longer feel the need to be liked by everyone. It is freeing to understand that we can be good people and still not be everyone's cup of tea. We can have a good heart and still disappoint someone. We can be honest, caring, and sincere, yet still be misunderstood by people who do not know how to appreciate those qualities.

We cannot control how others perceive us, but we can choose how much power we give their opinions over our lives.

For me, peace has become far more valuable than approval. I would rather spend time with a handful of genuine people who accept me as I am than surround myself with a crowd that makes me question my worth. I would rather have meaningful conversations than engage in endless gossip. I would rather be alone and feel at peace than be surrounded by people and feel lonely.

Because loneliness is not always about having nobody around us. Sometimes, it is about being in a room full of people and feeling that we cannot truly be ourselves.

The right people will not make us feel that we have to earn our place in their lives every single day. They will not use our vulnerabilities against us or make us regret opening our hearts. They will respect our boundaries, celebrate our growth, and correct us with kindness when we need it. They will understand that being human means having good days and bad days, strengths and weaknesses, confidence and insecurities.

Most importantly, they will allow us to be ourselves without making us feel that we need to apologize for who we are.

Of course, not every uncomfortable situation means the people around us are at fault. Sometimes, our fears, past experiences, and insecurities do influence how we interact with others. It is important to recognize when we need to heal, grow, or seek support. But we must also be brave enough to recognize when an environment is genuinely unhealthy for us. Both things can be true. We can have our own work to do while acknowledging that certain people are not good for our well being.

The key is learning the difference.

So, the next time you find yourself feeling anxious, withdrawn, or emotionally exhausted around certain people, pause before labelling yourself as the problem. Ask yourself whether you feel this way everywhere or only around particular individuals. Ask whether you are afraid of being judged because of your own insecurities or because people have repeatedly given you reasons to feel unsafe expressing yourself.

Your answers may reveal something important.

Perhaps you do need to build your confidence. Perhaps you need to work through old wounds. Or perhaps you simply need to spend less time with people who drain your energy and more time with those who bring out the best in you.

Whatever the answer may be, remember that you are allowed to choose the kind of energy you welcome into your life.

Life is already challenging enough without surrounding ourselves with people who make it unnecessarily harder. As we grow older, I believe we become more protective of our time, our emotional well being, and the relationships we choose to nurture. We begin to understand that peace is not something we should have to sacrifice just to belong.

We deserve friendships that feel safe, conversations that feel genuine, and relationships that allow us to grow without losing ourselves in the process.

And if stepping away from certain people gives us the space to breathe, heal, and rediscover our confidence, then perhaps walking away is not a sign that we have failed socially. Perhaps it is a sign that we are finally learning to honour ourselves.

At the end of the day, not every problem requires us to change who we are. Sometimes, we simply need to change who we allow into our lives.

So, before you convince yourself that you are too sensitive, too quiet, too awkward, or too difficult to understand, take a closer look at the people around you. Maybe you are not broken. Maybe you are just tired of being in places where your heart does not feel at home.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with choosing a little more peace, a little less drama, and people who make life feel lighter rather than heavier.

Because the goal is not to become someone who can tolerate everyone. The goal is to become someone who knows what is healthy for them, has the courage to walk away from what is not, and understands that protecting their peace is not selfish.

Sometimes, the problem is not who we are.

Sometimes, it is simply who we are surrounded by.

Movie Recommendation: Unfaithful (2002)

 

Some movies are great to watch, but others stay with you long after they end, making you think about love, relationships, and how one decision can change everything.

Unfaithful (2002) is one of those films for me. It is sensual, suspenseful, emotionally complicated, and a little unsettling in the way it explores desire, temptation, and the consequences of crossing a line.

First of all, can we talk about Richard Gere? That man is ridiculously handsome. Honestly, unfairly handsome. Even when his character is caught in a storm of emotions, there is something about his presence that makes it difficult to look away.

But beyond the attraction, what makes this movie worth watching is how it explores the fragile balance between love, loyalty, passion, and the choices that can change everything.

Directed by Adrian Lyne, Unfaithful follows Connie Sumner, played brilliantly by Diane Lane, a married woman living what appears to be a comfortable and settled life with her husband, Edward Sumner, played by Richard Gere, and their young son. From the outside, their life seems secure. They have a home, a family, and the kind of stability many people spend years building. Yet, somewhere along the way, routine has become part of their relationship, and perhaps Connie has lost touch with a part of herself she does not even realize she misses.

An unexpected encounter with a younger man named Paul Martel, played by Olivier Martinez, changes everything. There is an immediate attraction, followed by a series of decisions that gradually pull Connie into an affair. And Olivier Martinez? That man is temptation wrapped in a scarf. There is an effortless charm about him that makes it easy to understand how Connie becomes caught up in the excitement of something new and forbidden.

What I find particularly interesting about this movie is that it does not simply present infidelity as a straightforward story of right and wrong. Instead, it invites us to look at the emotions and circumstances that can lead someone to make choices they might never have imagined making. That does not mean the choices are justified, but it does make the characters feel human. Sometimes, people do not set out to destroy what they have. Sometimes, they make one impulsive decision, then another, until they find themselves somewhere they never intended to be.

Diane Lane's performance is, without a doubt, one of the strongest reasons to watch this film. She captures Connie's emotions with such vulnerability that you can almost feel her internal struggle. There is excitement, desire, guilt, confusion, and eventually, fear. Her expressions often say more than words ever could. I particularly appreciate how she portrays the contradiction of being drawn towards something that feels thrilling in the moment while knowing, somewhere deep down, that there may be a terrible price to pay.

Richard Gere also deserves recognition for the emotional depth he brings to Edward. Beneath his composed exterior is a husband whose love, trust, and sense of security are slowly being threatened. Watching the situation unfold makes you consider how little we sometimes know about what another person is feeling. People can share a home and a life while quietly drifting apart emotionally. And when trust is broken, the damage can reach far beyond the original act of betrayal.

For me, the most compelling aspect of Unfaithful is the way it examines desire. Attraction can be powerful, and the excitement of being noticed, wanted, or understood by someone new can be intoxicating. But feelings are not always reliable guides for the decisions we make. There is a difference between experiencing an emotion and choosing to act on it. That distinction matters, especially when our decisions affect people who have placed their trust in us.

The film also reminds us that love is not always simple. A relationship can contain genuine affection and still have its weaknesses. Routine, unmet emotional needs, poor communication, and the assumption that everything will somehow remain the same can create distance between two people. Perhaps one of the most important lessons here is that relationships require honesty, attention, and a willingness to address what is missing before silence and dissatisfaction turn into something more damaging.

And then there is that final scene. Without giving too much away, it is haunting precisely because it leaves you sitting with the weight of everything that has happened. It makes you think about consequences, forgiveness, responsibility, and how quickly life can change when emotions take control. I found myself reflecting on how one decision can create a chain of events that cannot simply be undone.

Ultimately, I would recommend Unfaithful to anyone who enjoys psychological thrillers with strong performances, complicated characters, and a storyline that goes beyond physical attraction. Yes, it is sensual and intense, and the chemistry between the characters is undeniable. But beneath all that is a much deeper exploration of marriage, temptation, trust, and human vulnerability.

For me, this is the kind of movie that reminds us that we are all human, with emotions that can sometimes surprise even ourselves. What matters is recognizing that our choices carry weight, and that the pursuit of a moment of excitement can sometimes put the things we value most at risk.

Watch it for the performances, the tension, and yes, Richard Gere's undeniable charm. Stay for the emotional complexity, the moral questions, and the ending that will leave you thinking.

Because sometimes, the most dangerous thing is not falling in love. It is forgetting that every choice we make can change the lives of the people we love.

My verdict: Sensual, gripping, emotionally layered, and haunting. Unfaithful is a reminder that desire may be impulsive, but consequences are rarely so easy to escape.

What I Have Learned So Far in 2026, Intentionally or Accidentally

If there is one thing 2026 has taught me so far, it is that life has a rather interesting way of teaching us lessons. Sometimes, we sit down, reflect, pray, read, and consciously try to become better versions of ourselves. Other times, life simply throws something at us, leaves us standing there wondering what the hell just happened, and expects us to figure out the lesson ourselves.

And honestly, some of the lessons I have learned this year were not exactly the ones I signed up for.

As I sit here reflecting on the year so far, I realize that growth is not always pretty. It is not always peaceful, inspiring, or accompanied by some beautiful background music that makes everything feel meaningful. Sometimes, growth looks like crying when nobody is watching. Sometimes, it is staring at your phone, overthinking a conversation, questioning yourself, or trying to make sense of feelings you cannot quite explain.

And sometimes, growth is simply waking up the next morning, taking a deep breath, and deciding to try again.

One of the biggest things I have learned is that happiness can be frightening when you have spent too much time being unhappy.

You would think that after going through difficult seasons, finally experiencing happiness would feel like a huge sigh of relief. And it does. But there is another side to it that people do not talk about enough.

Sometimes, when things finally start falling into place, you become afraid of losing them. You begin wondering when the other shoe will drop. You start preparing yourself for disappointment even when there is absolutely no reason to believe disappointment is coming.

It is a strange thing to finally have something you prayed for and still find yourself afraid.

But I am learning that I cannot keep allowing the possibility of tomorrow's pain to rob me of today's happiness. I cannot spend my life anticipating heartbreak and call it being prepared. Sometimes, I need to trust that I am allowed to enjoy the good things happening in my life without constantly looking over my shoulder.

Happiness is not a guarantee that nothing bad will ever happen again. It is an invitation to appreciate what is good while it is here.

And I am learning to accept that invitation.

I have also learned that healing does not mean forgetting.

There are people who have left marks on our hearts that time does not simply erase. Some gave us beautiful memories. Some taught us painful lessons. Some loved us in ways we will always appreciate, while others showed us exactly what we should never accept again.

And sometimes, more than one of those things can be true about the same person.

I used to think that moving forward meant leaving everything behind. Now, I am beginning to understand that we can move forward without pretending our past never mattered.

We can be grateful for what someone once meant to us without needing them to remain part of our future. We can remember the love without having to return to the circumstances surrounding it. We can acknowledge that something was beautiful and still accept that its chapter has ended.

The heart is capable of holding memories and making room for new beginnings. One does not have to cancel out the other.

Another lesson I am learning is that not everything needs to be figured out immediately.

I will be the first to admit that I can overthink. I analyze conversations, replay situations, question my decisions, and sometimes turn a relatively simple matter into an entire courtroom drama inside my head.

My mind can be a very busy place. Sometimes, I wish I could just tell it to sit down, shut up, and have a cup of tea.

But seriously, I am learning that uncertainty is part of being human. Not every question has an immediate answer. Not every situation needs a decision today. Not every feeling needs to be dissected until I have exhausted every possible explanation.

Sometimes, the healthiest thing I can do is pause, breathe, pray, and allow life to unfold.

I do not need to have all the answers to be moving in the right direction. I do not need to understand every twist and turn before I can take the next step.

And perhaps faith is partly about learning to walk even when I cannot see the entire staircase.

Speaking of faith, this year has also reminded me that my relationship with God is not supposed to be built entirely on fear.

I can be sincere in my desire to do what is right and still make mistakes. I can have questions, struggle with my thoughts, and experience moments of uncertainty without assuming that I have somehow failed God.

Faith is not about becoming a person who never struggles. It is about continuing to turn towards God even when I do.

I am learning that grace matters. That intention matters. That a heart genuinely trying to grow, love, forgive, and do better is not a heart that should spend every waking moment punishing itself for being imperfect.

I want to grow in my faith because I love God, not because I am terrified of getting everything wrong.

There is a difference, and I am slowly learning to recognize it.

I have learned that protecting my peace is not selfish.

For far too long, many of us have been taught that being a good person means being endlessly available, endlessly patient, and endlessly understanding. We make excuses for people, accommodate their behaviour, swallow our feelings, and convince ourselves that keeping everyone else happy is somehow our responsibility.

But kindness without boundaries can become exhaustion.

Being compassionate does not mean allowing people to walk all over us. Forgiveness does not mean giving everyone unlimited access to our lives. Understanding someone else's struggles does not mean we must sacrifice our own well being to accommodate them.

I can love people and still say no. I can wish someone well and still choose distance. I can forgive someone without pretending that what happened did not hurt me.

And I can be a good person without being everyone's favourite person.

That last part is particularly important because, let's be honest, some people will misunderstand you no matter how carefully you explain yourself. You could practically prepare a PowerPoint presentation explaining your intentions, and someone would still interpret slide three differently.

At some point, you have to stop exhausting yourself trying to control how everyone sees you.

Know your heart. Check your intentions. Take responsibility when you are wrong. Make amends when necessary. Then allow yourself to move on.

Family has also reminded me of the importance of appreciating the ordinary moments.

A meal with my parents. A simple breakfast together. An afternoon spent talking about nothing particularly important. A little shopping, a shared laugh, or simply being able to sit together and enjoy each other's company.

These moments may not look extraordinary to anyone else, but they are the very things that make life meaningful.

We spend so much time waiting for the big occasions that we sometimes forget to appreciate the little ones. We wait for holidays, celebrations, milestones, and special announcements, forgetting that ordinary days are quietly becoming memories too.

One day, we may look back and realize that the moments we barely thought about were the moments we would give anything to experience again.

So I want to be more present. I want to put my phone down sometimes. I want to listen more carefully, laugh more freely, and stop treating ordinary blessings as though they are guaranteed.

Because they are not.

And if 2026 has taught me anything, it is that time is precious, relationships matter, and love is often expressed in the simplest ways.

I have also learned that being vulnerable is not the same as being weak.

I am someone who feels things deeply. When I care, I care wholeheartedly. When something hurts, it hurts. When I am happy, I can be ridiculously happy. And when something matters to me, I have never been particularly good at pretending that it doesn't.

For a long time, I think many of us have mistaken emotional strength for the ability to remain unaffected by life.

But perhaps strength is not about feeling less. Perhaps it is about having the courage to feel everything without allowing those feelings to destroy who we are.

It takes courage to admit that we are scared. It takes courage to say that we need reassurance. It takes courage to love again after disappointment, trust again after uncertainty, and allow ourselves to hope when experience has given us reasons to be cautious.

I would rather be someone who loves sincerely than someone who spends a lifetime pretending not to care.

Of course, I am still learning how to balance my heart with my head. I am still learning when to speak, when to listen, when to let go, and when to stop giving a situation more mental energy than it deserves.

I am a work in progress. Some days, a very obvious work in progress.

But at least I am aware of it, and awareness is a pretty good place to start.

Perhaps the most important lesson of all is that I do not have to become a completely different person to become a better one.

I do not need to lose my humour, my opinions, my sensitivity, or the slightly unhinged side of my personality that makes me who I am. I do not need to become quieter, less expressive, or less passionate just because someone somewhere might find me too much.

What I need is to become more intentional about where I direct my energy, how I respond to challenges, and what I allow to occupy my heart and mind.

I want to be kinder without being a pushover. Stronger without becoming hard. More forgiving without abandoning my boundaries. More faithful without being consumed by fear. More loving without forgetting to love myself.

I want to learn from my mistakes without turning them into permanent evidence against myself.

And I want to remember that personal growth is not a competition. There is no prize for becoming emotionally mature before everyone else, and there is certainly no deadline by which I must have my entire life figured out.

Some lessons take years. Some take a single conversation. Some require us to experience the same situation several times before we finally understand what life has been trying to tell us.

And some lessons, I suspect, will require a little more patience, prayer, and perhaps another cup of tea.

So, here we are. We have only two and a half more months until the end of 2026.

Two and a half months.

It feels almost ridiculous to think about how quickly this year has passed. Yet, when I look back, I realize just how much can happen in a single year. How much we can feel, how much we can lose, how much we can discover, and how much we can change without even realizing it is happening.

There are still things I want to accomplish. There are still questions I want answered, habits I want to improve, fears I want to overcome, and parts of myself I want to understand better.

But I am no longer convinced that I need to finish this year with everything perfectly resolved.

Perhaps I simply need to finish it a little wiser, a little calmer, a little more grateful, and a little more at peace with myself.

I want to enter the final weeks of 2026 with my eyes open to the blessings I already have, my heart open to the possibilities still ahead, and enough courage to trust that I can handle whatever comes next.

Because life will continue to happen. Plans will change. People will surprise us. Some things will work out beautifully, while others will leave us scratching our heads and asking God what exactly He was thinking.

And we will learn.

Intentionally or accidentally, we will keep learning.

So, if I had to sum up what 2026 has taught me so far, it would be this: I cannot control everything that happens to me, but I can choose how I grow through it. I cannot guarantee that my heart will never hurt again, but I can refuse to let fear prevent me from loving. I cannot make every decision perfectly, but I can learn to give myself grace when I get things wrong.

Most importantly, I can stop waiting for life to become perfect before I allow myself to be happy.

I have survived difficult days. I have questioned myself. I have learned, unlearned, and relearned things I thought I already understood. I have laughed, cried, prayed, worried, loved, and probably overthought a few things that did not deserve quite so much attention.

But I am still here.

Still learning. Still growing. Still hoping. Still loving.

And honestly, that is something worth being grateful for.

Here is to the remaining two and a half months of 2026. May they bring us more reasons to smile, more courage to let go of what no longer serves us, more wisdom to recognize what truly matters, and more moments that remind us how beautiful life can be.

We may not have everything figured out by 31 December.

But hopefully, we will understand ourselves a little better than we did when the year began.

And perhaps that, in itself, is a pretty wonderful way to end the year.

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Belonging to God, Instruments of His Love

What does it truly mean to belong to God? As I reflect on this Sunday’s readings, I find myself thinking about how easily we can become caught up in the demands of everyday life that we sometimes forget what our faith is really asking of us. We go about our routines, fulfil our responsibilities, care for the people we love, and try our best to navigate the challenges life throws at us. But in the midst of everything, are we allowing God to guide us? Are we living our faith through our actions? And are we giving God what truly belongs to Him?

This Sunday’s readings speak to me because they remind me that God can work through anyone, that faith must be more than just words, and that no matter how much the world demands of us, our hearts ultimately belong to Him.

The first reading from Isaiah 45:1, 4 to 6 reminds me that God’s plans are not always limited by our understanding of who is worthy or capable of serving Him. God chose Cyrus, a foreign king who did not even know Him, to fulfil His purpose for His chosen people. What strikes me is that God could work through someone who did not know Him personally. Cyrus might not have understood the bigger picture, but God knew what He was doing.

This makes me reflect on how often we underestimate what God can accomplish through ordinary people. Sometimes, we assume that to do God's work, we must be exceptionally holy, knowledgeable about Scripture, or able to do something extraordinary. We may think that our imperfections make us unsuitable, or that our past experiences somehow disqualify us from being useful to Him.

But the story of Cyrus reminds me that God sees possibilities where we may see limitations. He can work through people we least expect, including those who may not share our beliefs or see the world as we do. His plans are bigger than our personal expectations, and His ways are not always the ways we would choose.

Personally, I find comfort in this because I know I am not perfect. I have my own weaknesses, struggles, and lessons that life has taught me. There are times when I wish I had handled certain situations differently or responded with greater patience and understanding. Yet, I believe that God can still use my experiences, including the difficult ones, to help me understand others better.

Sometimes, the very experiences that leave us hurting can teach us compassion. The disappointments we face can make us more sensitive to someone else's pain. The challenges we overcome can give us the ability to encourage someone who is struggling to find their own strength.

Perhaps being an instrument of God's love is not about having a perfect life. Perhaps it is about allowing Him to use the life we have lived, with all its imperfections, to bring comfort, encouragement, and hope to others.

The reading also reminds me that God is the one true Lord. In a world where we often want to control outcomes and understand every reason behind what happens, this is an invitation to trust Him, even when we cannot see the bigger picture. We may not always understand why certain doors close, why some people enter our lives, or why we have to go through particular experiences. But we can continue to place our trust in Him and remain open to what He may be asking of us.

The second reading from 1 Thessalonians 1:1 to 5 brings the message closer to home by reminding us that faith, love, and hope must be visible in the way we live.

St Paul speaks of the Thessalonians' faith in action, their work for love, and their perseverance through hope in Jesus Christ. I find these words especially meaningful because they remind me that faith is not simply something we profess. It is something we practice, especially when life is not going according to plan.

It is easy to talk about love when we feel loved. It is easy to speak about forgiveness when we have not been deeply hurt. It is easy to remain hopeful when everything seems to be working in our favour. But what happens when we are disappointed, misunderstood, or faced with situations that test our patience? What happens when doing the right thing is not the easiest option?

That is when our faith is truly challenged.

For me, living out my faith means trying to remain kind even when life is difficult, choosing understanding instead of rushing to judge, and remembering that everyone is carrying struggles that may not be visible to the rest of the world. It means recognizing that people do not always need us to solve their problems. Sometimes, they simply need someone willing to listen without judging them, to offer encouragement without expecting anything in return, or to stand beside them when they feel alone.

Of course, I do not always get everything right. I have moments when I feel tired, disappointed, or frustrated. I have moments when I need to remind myself to pause, pray, and look at a situation with a little more patience. But perhaps that is part of the journey of faith. We are not expected to become perfect overnight. We are called to keep growing, keep learning, and keep allowing God to shape our hearts.

I also love how St Paul reminds the Thessalonians that the Good News came not only in words, but through the power of the Holy Spirit and with conviction. To me, this is a reminder that the Gospel should make a difference in how we live. People may not remember every Bible verse we quote, but they may remember how we treated them when they were struggling. They may remember the kindness we showed when they least expected it, or the patience we extended when they made mistakes.

Our actions can become a living witness to God's love.

And perhaps this is where our mission begins. We do not have to stand before a crowd or travel to a distant country to share the Good News. We can begin at home, at work, within our families, and among the people we encounter every day. Every interaction gives us an opportunity to reflect something of Christ through our words and actions.

Then we come to the Gospel of Matthew 22:15 to 21, where Jesus tells the Pharisees and the Herodians, "Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God."

The question put to Jesus was intended to trap Him. Yet, His response was both wise and profound. He acknowledged their earthly obligations while directing their attention towards a much deeper truth. There are responsibilities we must fulfil in this world, but there is also something that belongs to God that we must never neglect.

When I reflect on this Gospel, I think about how much of our lives is occupied by earthly responsibilities. We work, pay our bills, care for our families, fulfil our commitments, and try to meet the expectations placed upon us. These responsibilities matter. Being people of faith does not mean neglecting our duties or withdrawing from the world. Rather, it means fulfilling our responsibilities with honesty, integrity, and consideration for others.

But the question that stays with me is this: In giving so much of ourselves to the demands of the world, have we forgotten to give ourselves to God?

We can become so preoccupied with achieving more, earning more, pleasing others, and proving ourselves that our relationship with God gradually takes a back seat. We may still attend Mass and say our prayers, but are we allowing our faith to influence our choices? Are we making time to listen to God, or are we always too busy talking, worrying, and trying to work everything out on our own?

Jesus' words remind me that belonging to God is more than a declaration of faith. It is about surrendering our hearts to Him and allowing Him to guide the way we live.

The coin carried Caesar's image and inscription. But we, as human beings created in the image of God, are called to reflect something of His goodness in our lives. Our time, talents, words, and actions can all become offerings to Him. We belong to God, and this should influence how we treat others, how we conduct ourselves, and how we respond to the challenges we encounter.

For me, this also means remembering that my worth is not determined by how much I accomplish, how many people appreciate me, or whether everyone understands my intentions. The world may measure success through achievements, possessions, recognition, and status. But God looks at the heart.

What matters is not simply what we have accumulated, but what we have done with what He has entrusted to us. Have we used our abilities to help others? Have we treated people fairly? Have we shown compassion when we had the opportunity? Have we remained faithful to our values even when nobody was watching?

These are the questions that matter far more than the approval of the world.

As we celebrate Mission Sunday, I am reminded that each of us has a mission, even if we do not always recognize it. God may not be asking us to do something grand or extraordinary. He may simply be asking us to be more patient with someone at home, more understanding towards a colleague, more generous with our time, or more willing to reach out to someone who is struggling.

We may never know how God uses these little acts of love. We may never see the full impact of a kind word or realize how much our presence means to another person. But we can trust that goodness is never wasted when it comes from a sincere heart.

My prayer this Sunday is that I will never become so caught up in the things of this world that I forget the God who gives my life its purpose. Lord, help me to fulfil my responsibilities with honesty while keeping my heart centered on You. Teach me to recognize the opportunities You place before me to serve others. When I feel discouraged, strengthen my faith. When I am hurt, help me find the grace to forgive. When I am tempted to judge, remind me that I, too, need Your mercy. And when I feel that I have little to offer, remind me that You can work through even the smallest act of love.

I know I will continue to make mistakes, but I hope I will always remain willing to learn, to grow, and to allow You to work through me.

At the end of the day, our mission is not about being seen as good people. It is about doing good because we believe in the God who first loved us. It is about living our faith sincerely, loving others genuinely, and remembering that everything we have is an opportunity to serve a purpose greater than ourselves.

We belong to God. May our lives reflect that truth, not only in the prayers we say on Sundays, but in the choices we make every single day.

Wishing everyone a blessed Mission Sunday. May we always be willing instruments of God's love, wherever He places us and whoever He places in our path. 

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Reflective question: What part of my life is God inviting me to offer more fully to Him, so that others may experience His love through me?

I think God is inviting me to offer Him my heart more fully, especially in the way I love, care for, and treat the people He has placed in my life. I have always believed that even the smallest acts of kindness can make a difference, and I hope that through my words, actions, and willingness to be there for others, I can become an instrument of His love.

At the same time, I know I am not perfect. I have my own struggles, disappointments, and moments when I feel tired or hurt. Sometimes, it is easier to give love when we feel appreciated, but God reminds me that genuine love is not always about what we receive in return. It is about choosing to do good even when nobody is watching, forgiving even when it is difficult, and showing compassion even when we have our own burdens to carry.

I believe God is also inviting me to surrender my worries and need to understand everything to Him, and to trust that He can use my life experiences, both the beautiful and the painful ones, for a greater purpose. 

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.