Mental health conversations remain taboo in many communities, where struggles are dismissed or minimized. I grew up learning silence was safer than vulnerability, but small moments of support—teachers checking in, friends listening, counsellors validating—taught me that healing begins when we feel heard. True community doesn’t demand we hide pain but reminds us we’re not alone, even when we struggle.

Sometimes the hardest part of community isn’t being accepted—it’s accepting yourself. You can be surrounded by kind, welcoming people and still feel like you’re on the outside, pressing against the glass. True belonging comes not from performance, but from trust—allowing yourself to be seen, little by little. Community isn’t something you earn. It’s something you let yourself step into.

Community is like a quilt—stitched together with care, effort, and love. Each person is a piece of fabric, big or small, that adds to its beauty and strength. A healthy community offers warmth in hard times, pride in its making, and comfort to share with others. But when parts turn toxic—like a quilt torn or moulded—it can harm more than help. Still, it’s never too late to stitch anew and create something extraordinary.