Building a Culture of Care means recognising that suicide prevention is not only the responsibility of the person in distress, nor something that begins only when a crisis has already emerged. It is about creating families, workplaces and communities where people notice one another, feel safe to speak up, know how to respond with care, and are connected to support early. When care becomes part of everyday relationships and systems, we strengthen both individual resilience and the community around each person.

Your donation helps Caring for Life bring suicide prevention beyond moments of crisis and into everyday communities. Your support enables us to equip more people to recognise and respond to suicide risk, strengthen resilience through upstream programmes, develop peer supporters and community carers, and expand public education and advocacy that build a stronger Culture of Care. Every contribution helps create more opportunities for people to be noticed, supported and connected before distress becomes a crisis.

My Journey in Suicide Prevention

My journey in suicide prevention began with a simple belief: sometimes, being there for someone can make a greater difference than we realise.

As a volunteer with Caring for Life, I have been actively involved in the Community Carer Suicide Prevention Programme, where I support efforts to equip members of the community with the knowledge and confidence to identify individuals who may be struggling with suicidal thoughts and provide them with the appropriate support.

Through my experience as both a volunteer and trainer, I have come to understand that suicide prevention is not only the responsibility of mental health professionals. It is something that can begin within our families, workplaces, schools and communities. A person may not always openly say that they are struggling, but there can be signs in their behaviour, conversations or interactions with others.

One of the most meaningful aspects of my experience has been training community members. I help participants understand how to approach someone who may be at risk, listen without judgement and have difficult conversations about suicide. These conversations can be uncomfortable at first, but I believe they are important. Sometimes, simply giving someone a safe space to speak openly can be the first step towards getting help.

“You don’t need to have all the answers to help someone. Sometimes, the most important thing you can do is simply listen, show that you care, and let them know that they don’t have to face their struggles alone.”

My time with Caring for Life has also changed the way I view the people around me. I have become more aware of the importance of empathy, active listening and simply checking in on others. More importantly, I have learned that we do not always need to have the perfect words or solutions. What matters is being willing to notice, listen and stay present with someone during a difficult period.

For me, being involved in suicide prevention is ultimately about building a community where people feel that they are not alone. Through my work as a volunteer and trainer, I hope to encourage more people to recognise that they too can play a role in supporting someone who may be struggling.

My experience with Caring for Life has reinforced a simple but powerful message: suicide prevention starts when we are willing to care, listen and reach out.

My Suicide Prevention Experience

My journey with suicide prevention began when I was very young, with an experience involving a neighbour. At that age, I could not understand why someone would want to take their own life. Suicide felt distant and incomprehensible to me. I did not yet have the words or understanding to make sense of what had happened.

As I grew older, suicide became something much closer to home. I found myself supporting friends who experienced suicidal thoughts and ideation. One of the most memorable experiences was supporting one of my closest friends after their parent passed away.

As my friend navigated the grief and loss, they experienced overwhelming emotions and thoughts of suicide. At the time, I remember feeling helpless. I wanted so badly to make things better. I found myself thinking of solutions, wondering what I could say or do to take away their pain. I thought that supporting someone meant helping them solve their problems.

But I eventually realised that what my friend needed was not advice, solutions, or the right words. Sometimes, when someone is already struggling, repeatedly asking, “Have you tried this?” or “Have you done that?” can unintentionally feel invalidating — as though their pain is something that can simply be fixed if they do the right things. I realised that, before looking for solutions, sometimes what a person needs most is simply to feel acknowledged and heard.

My friend needed someone willing to sit with them in their pain. They needed a genuine presence and a listening ear — someone who would not judge them for what they were feeling, but simply let them know that they did not have to go through it alone, and that even in their darkest moments, there could still be hope.

That experience changed the way I understood suicide prevention.

I realised that sometimes, we cannot take away someone’s pain, but we can make sure that they do not have to carry it alone. We can help them hold onto hope until they can find it again themselves. We can listen. We can ask. We can validate. And, when necessary, we can help connect them to the appropriate sources of support.

Wanting to be equipped myself, I subsequently underwent suicide prevention training and became a trainer with Caring for Life. Since then, I have had the opportunity to share suicide prevention knowledge and awareness with individuals and organisations in the community.

As someone with a background in psychology, this role feels especially meaningful to me. I hope to help create a community where conversations about suicide are met with understanding rather than judgement, and where individuals experiencing suicidal thoughts feel heard, validated, and reminded that there is always hope, even when they cannot see it for themselves.

I may never know whether something I say in a training session will make a difference in someone’s life. But perhaps someone who attends a session will recognise the signs in a friend and feel more confident asking, “Are you okay?” Perhaps they will know how to listen, what to say, or where to seek help. And perhaps that small moment of awareness could help
save a life.

That is why I continue to be a suicide prevention trainer today. Because suicide prevention is not the responsibility of just one person, one profession, or one organisation.

Suicide prevention is everyone’s business.

My journey into this space didn’t start with training or theory. It started with grief, grief I didn’t ask for and definitely wasn’t ready for, the day I lost my mother to cancer at 20 years old.

Initially, all I felt was numb. The emotions were too big to process, and for a while, as a way to cope, I think my mind simply shut them out. Then came the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the days when getting out of bed felt almost impossible, and eventually, struggles with depression and, at my darkest, suicidal ideation. At the time, I did not have the words to express what was happening to me.

It was a weird feeling, because I was surrounded by people who loved and cared for me, yet I had never felt more alone in life. I knew they were there, but I didn’t know how to explain what I was experiencing or what I needed from them, and that disconnect made the experience feel incredibly isolating.

Looking back, I think that loneliness shaped the kind of support I wanted to offer others. I knew firsthand what it felt like to be young, struggling, and unsure of where to turn. I grew through those experiences, and I want to become the kind of person I once needed, someone who can be there without judgement, without advice, especially when someone doesn’t have words to explain what they feel or are going through.

During one of the most difficult periods of my life, I said to a close friend, “Sometimes all I need is someone to sit in the rain with me, not take the clouds away.” That phrase has stayed with me. To me, it captures something I have come to believe deeply about support: we don’t always need to fix someone’s pain. Sometimes, we just need to be willing to sit with them through it.

That belief eventually led me to Caring for Life Singapore. I decided to take part in CFL’s LIFE Training because I wanted to translate my beliefs into action.

Since then, through working with young people, I have seen how common grief, loss and mental health struggles can be, including experiences of suicidal thoughts and mental health crises. My work with caregivers and people approaching the end of life has also shown me that grief and loss can take many forms, and that they are not always spoken about openly.

These experiences have deepened my interest in grief and bereavement, mental health and suicide prevention. I don’t think we talk enough about how grief and bereavement can, for some people, develop into deeper mental health struggles and suicidal thoughts. Having experienced that progression myself, I understand how important it can be to recognise when someone is struggling and, sometimes, simply to give them a safe space to be honest about it.

I cannot take away someone’s pain, and I don’t think that should ever be the goal. What I can do is listen, validate what they are going through, and help them feel that they do not have to face their darkest moments without support.

My personal experience is what first brought me into this space, but it is the belief that no one should have to struggle in silence that keeps me here.