People change but that change can come with fear. People begin to unlearn old habits and experiment with new ways of being. They start responding to problems differently, forming deeper connections, and making decisions with greater intention. But as they step into this new version of themselves, they also find it unsettling, even terrifying.

Nobody wants to suffer, yet somehow, we find ourselves in the same painful situations over and over again. We repeatedly fall into relationships that mirror old wounds, sabotage our own progress, invite unnecessary hardship, replay past traumatic experiences, or instinctively shy away from happiness.

In The Dyer’s Hand and Other Essays, poet Wystan Hugh Auden offers an interesting perspective on self-criticism:

To keep his errors down to a minimum, the internal Censor to whom a poet submits his work in progress should be a Censorate.

Growth isn’t a new idea. For the ancient Greeks, especially Aristotle, it was the foundation of living a good life. Aristotle’s concept of eudaimonia—often translated as flourishing—was about living in harmony with your highest virtues. Similarly, Confucius' theory of self-cultivation emphasises that individual…

We’ve created a world where we push away what makes us most human. Emotions are dismissed as inconvenient. Vulnerability is twisted into weakness. Detachment from others is glorified. Independence has become a badge of honour, as if needing no one is the ultimate measure of success.

Anger is a tricky emotion. It can fire us up to stand our ground, right a wrong, or push for change. But it can also take over, leaving us drained, regretful, or stuck in a cycle of resentment.

In one entry from her Journal of a Solitude, published in 1973, poet and writer May Sarton wrote:

Resentment doesn’t announce itself loudly. It lingers beneath the surface, showing up indirectly: in a passive-aggressive text, an awkward silence after a sharp joke, a harsh remark disguised as feedback, or the quiet frustration of watching someone do what you never allow yourself to.

Growth and healing get all the spotlight—empowering, life-changing, thrilling. But here’s the part no one puts on an inspirational poster: it’s lonely too.

It’s the kind of loneliness where you feel alienated because the people around you resist, reject, or even criticise your changes.

What wouldn’t we do out of boredom? In 2019, a story went viral about a security guard in Wisconsin working the night shift at a Bath & Body Works. Out of sheer boredom, he decided to handcuff himself, just for the thrill of it.
The problem? He had left the key at home. The night ended with an embarrassed call to the police.

Sometimes, we act in ways that others quickly label as “illogical” or an “overreaction,” but not all seemingly irrational behaviour is as senseless as it appears.

Think about how often we interpret others' negative actions as being directed at us, even when they aren't.

After a recent parent-teacher meeting, a friend of mine called me, clearly anxious. Her son’s teacher described him as relaxed, sociable, and well-mannered, but at home, she often saw him withdrawn and irritable. She worried she might be dealing with a mini Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde—like her son was leading a double life. “Should I be concerned?” she asked.

One of the bittersweet realities of growing up was coming to terms with the fact that my parents didn’t give me everything I needed as a kid, and that they probably never would.

It’s bittersweet because while seeing the gaps left by unmet needs hurts, there’s also a sense of relief in letting go of impossible expectations.

Imagine you have a magic wand, and with it, two choices: you can either use it to fight against the bad—things like violence and crime—or to nurture the good, like harmony and peace. Which would you choose?

We can’t seem to stop telling others how to live their lives: what to eat, how much to exercise, how to raise a kid, what to believe, or even how to manage our ADHD.

Advice is everywhere, handed out like free samples at a grocery store.

Ever had a feeling that just wouldn’t leave, like an unwanted guest who overstays?

Maybe you’re still feeling the disappointment of missing out on that promotion, days after the news. Or you’ve been anxious for what feels like forever because of a difficult conversation you’re dreading.

Your partner has been coughing and struggling with a sore throat for weeks. They’re very uncomfortable, hoping it will go away, but it isn’t. What do you do?

Chances are, you’d gently suggest, “Hey, what about seeing a doctor?”

Ever been told you must love yourself before you can truly love others?

Or that you need to accept yourself first before you can show acceptance toward others?

You know, those feel-good, self-help mantras that are supposed to unlock the secret to all things love and connection?

Every day, we’re hit with a flood of heartbreaking news: wars destroying lives, economic and political problems breaking hopes, poverty leading to suffering, racism splitting us apart, crime taking lives and spreading fear, and climate change threatening our future.

“I don’t feel lonely when I’m alone,” I said to a friend. “I feel lonely when he is half-listening.”

This form of loneliness isn’t born from solitude but from half-hearted engagements. It’s a common frustration in relationships, where genuine connections give way to distracted attention.

In my “What to do when you feel like a small fish in a big pond” post, I touched on the discomfort we might feel when stepping into something new and challenging. This discomfort can be daunting, bringing intense self-doubt and impostor feelings.