Colette Safhill

People often apologise for it. They sit down in September or October and say some version of the same thing: nothing has actually happened, I just feel flat, I do not know why I am here. Nothing has happened. That is rather the point. Something does shift when the light goes. The mornings get harder. The evenings close in at four. The part of the year that carried you along on momentum, the long days, the holiday, the sense that things were open, quietly ends, and what is left is the ordinary...

Suicide prevention should not begin at the point of crisis. By then, a person may already feel trapped, exhausted, ashamed, or unable to explain what is happening inside them. The earlier we notice distress, talk about it, and reduce risk, the more room there is for hope and help to get in. National Suicide Prevention Day is a reminder, but the real work is everyday work. It happens in kitchens, classrooms, group chats, GP appointments, workplaces, faith communities, sports clubs, and quiet...

Love often gets measured in big moments: the anniversary trip, the public apology, the dramatic promise to change. Those moments can matter, but most relationships are built, repaired, or worn down in much smaller ways. A text sent when promised. A cup of tea made without being asked. A calm tone during a difficult conversation. Turning towards a partner instead of scrolling past them. These small rituals of reliability tell a partner, again and again, “You can trust me with ordinary life.”...