Thought tide

Mental Health Awareness Month Reflection. Dear friend, I’m sorry I snapped at you that Saturday afternoon. You were just checking in. But I was struggling — with finances, with feeling stuck in my career, with carrying this quiet weight. And you? You were going through a divorce. You’d just survived a near-death illness that had you in ICU. I promised to be there for you. To check in more. To be a better friend. But I’ve barely picked up your calls. I want to call when I’m upbeat. When I sound like “me.” So I text. I choose WhatsApp, because you can’t hear the heaviness in my voice there. Dear friend, Remember when you borrowed me 5k? I told you, “Once you get it from someone, please share.” Truth is... I needed it too. But I didn’t want to say. My boss once asked what happened to that dream of becoming a counsellor. I told him, “I paused on that interest.” He asked why. I laughed and said, “I think I realized I need the counselling more than I could give.” We chuckled. But i...

A strong feeling of the world shrinking into silence. One moment I am sitting in a simple meeting — not even the scariest one I’ve ever had — and the next, my mind emptied. Completely. Not a thought, not a word. Just blank. Abit of nervousness but something deeper. Something old. Like a bully that has lived in my mind for years. The one that whispers, You’re not good enough. You should do better. You are slow. You are stuck I’ve worked in the financial field for years. And yet, I couldn’t find words to explain the simplest of things. I stumbled, I overtalked, I shrank and tried to cover up the mess with a flurry of nothings. It’s not the first time. The truth is, I feel stuck. Stuck in a cycle of hardwork, barely smart. Watching peers sail past me. Seeing others rise while I stay seated. And worse — carrying the shame of that stagnation, like a stain I can't scrub off. Countless opportunities search in the past. Rejections now a rhythm. On the few occasions I get the chance to spea...

So apparently, I am turning 40. Four-Zero. Forty. The age I used to imagine meant high heels and high bank balances. Reality? I own crocs in two colors, countless pair of sneakers and I check price tags like they’re crime scenes😏 I thought by now I’d have it all figured out — career, family, finances, skincare. But let me tell you, I still Google things like “can you get grey hairs on your eyebrows?” and “how to say no without guilt.” So here is to 40. Not just a number. A milestone. A monument. To every version of me that walked the path-I see you. I honour you. I’m standing here with a cocktail of emotions: awe, relief, laughter, and a slightly panicked "Wait… how did we get here?!" So, in honour of this milestone, I give you: 4 truths per decade — the lessons, the bruises, the beauty, and the bafflement — as gathered from each floor I’ve climbed. Floors 0–10: The Obvious and Not-So-Obvious Climb I was 8, going on 9. Quite short, barely able to carry my oversized b...