Yesterday, I came across a video that got me thinking. It talked about how children don’t just listen to what we say, they watch how we live.
Honestly, I had to pause the video for a minute because I could relate so much.
One thing I became very intentional about years ago was telling unnecessary phone lies. You know the kind I’m talking about. “Tell them I’m not around.” “Tell them I’m sleeping.” “Say I’m not at home.”
They’re the little things we sometimes say without thinking much about them. But then when my son started to become aware of things, I realized he was always listening. Always.
So I stopped.
It wasn’t because I suddenly became perfect, it was because I didn’t want him growing up thinking that being dishonest was normal.
The funny thing is, he’s thirteen now, and if I accidentally say something that doesn’t quite add up, he’s quick to look at me like… “Mummy…” No long speech. No lecture. Just that look… And I immediately know I’ve been caught. He’s been doing this for many years now.
Children have a way of holding us accountable without even trying. This makes me realize that parenting isn’t just about teaching. It’s about demonstrating.
Our children are learning how to speak by listening to us. They’re learning how to treat people by watching us. They’re learning how to handle disappointment by seeing how we react. They’re even learning whether it’s okay to say “no” by watching us set or fail to set healthy boundaries.
That part really hit me.
Sometimes we say yes when we desperately want to say no because we don’t want to offend people. We overextend ourselves. We keep everyone happy while quietly becoming exhausted.
Our children notice that too. I remember one day I let some people bully me and I ended up crying… A lot. I cringe every time remember, my son was there, he watched the whole thing. I’m glad I have since learned how to speak up for myself and say “no” when I have to. If they grow up watching us constantly ignore our own boundaries, they may grow up believing that’s what kindness looks like.
It isn’t.
One of the healthiest things a child can see is a parent who can lovingly say,
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”… Without guilt or drama… Without feeling like the world will end.
Here’s something else I’ve learned first hand over the years. Our children don’t need perfect parents, they need honest ones.
Parents who can say, “I was wrong.” “I’m sorry.” “I’ll do better next time.” It teaches them far more than pretending we’ve got everything figured out.
I think one of the greatest gifts we can give our children is a life that matches our words as often as possible.
Are we going to get it right every single time? Of course not… But every day gives us another opportunity to model the kind of adults we hope they’ll become.
Because whether we notice it or not… They’re watching.
I think one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to learn is giving people grace.
I’ve sat through sessions and I’ve read books that teach about grace. I’ve listened to people talk about choosing grace over resentment. I even remember one session where I was encouraged to choose one person to give grace to… I chose my dad. It wasn’t easy, but I did. And somewhere along the line, it helped. It didn’t erase everything, but it helped me breathe a little easier.
But there’s something nobody really prepares you for… What do you do when you keep giving someone grace… and every single time you’re almost ready to believe things are changing, they go and break your heart all over again? Seriously, each time when it seems like you’re about to let them cash in on their grace, they just go and mess it all up again.
That’s the part I struggle with.
Because I don’t want to become bitter or to to be that person that keeps scores. I don’t want to be the person who gives up on people too quickly.
But I’m tired. I’m not angry. Just… tired.
It hurts when you keep making room for someone in your heart, and they keep reminding you why you closed that door in the first place.
And then I start questioning myself.
Am I not giving enough grace? Or am I giving away pieces of myself that I should be protecting?
I honestly don’t know.
I still believe in grace.
I’m just having one of those days where it feels really, really expensive.
I was minding my business on TikTok this evening when Apple TV+ decided to tell me Ryan Reynolds has a new movie coming out… This September. I already know I’ll most likely watch it when it becomes available in my area.
What surprised me wasn’t the trailer. It was the comment section of the post.
Oh my Goodness… The hate was loud. Really really loud. I found some commentors asking, “Wait… what happened?” “Why does everyone suddenly hate Ryan Reynolds?” “Do we not like Ryan Reynolds anymore?” I didn’t wonder along with them because I knew exactly why they were hating.
A lot of the backlash stems from the ongoing legal dispute involving Reynold’s wife, Blake Lively, and actor/director Justin Baldoni. Ryan stood by his wife publicly… as most husbands probably would. This made many people feel disappointed by the position he took. Whether you agree with him or not, opinions have become incredibly divided.
I won’t lie. For a brief moment, I felt caught in the middle too. I’ve always liked Ryan Reynolds. His sense of humor is effortless, his acting is brilliant, and he has this way of making almost every role enjoyable to watch. So, did the controversy make me pause? Yes it sure did. Did it make me hate him? No.
And that’s when another thought crossed my mind. Why do we find it so easy to hate people these days? Not disagree with them. Not question them. Not even criticize them. Just… hate them.
It reminded me of Colleen Hoover… And just to add, this whole Reynolds controversy stems from the period of the movie production of Hoovers It Ends with Us.
I’ve watched people tear Hoover apart online for years. The funny thing is, I’ve never even taken the time to investigate every reason behind the criticism. I simply know she’s become one of those people the internet has collectively decided to dislike.
Yet, somehow, millions of people have laughed, cried and healed through her books.
Then there’s Morgan Wallen. Recently, I found myself reading about some of his past controversies. There were arrests, poor decisions and headlines that weren’t exactly flattering. Did it change the fact that I love his music? No it didn’t. His songs still make me smile. They still tell stories that resonate with me.
So I made peace with something. I don’t have to approve of every decision an artist has ever made before I can appreciate what they create.
I can enjoy Morgan Wallen’s music without defending his mistakes.
I can admire Ryan Reynolds’ talent without pretending to know everything about his personal life.
I can appreciate Colleen Hoover’s creativity without making her my moral compass.
Maybe that’s where I’ve landed.
The internet doesn’t seem to leave much room for middle ground anymore. It’s almost as if we’re expected to pick a side immediately.
Love them. Cancel them. Support them. Boycott them. No middle ground.
But life has taught me that human beings are far more complicated than hashtags and comment sections.
People are flawed, they disappoint us, they grow, they make mistakes… Sometimes they apologize… Sometimes they don’t.
Sometimes we choose to keep supporting their work and sometimes we don’t.
That’s a personal decision, and I respect it.
For me, though, I don’t want to join every online pile-on just because it’s trending.
I’d rather think, read, make my own conclusions and remember that someone can create something beautiful while still being an imperfect human being.
If we demanded perfection from every artist before enjoying their work, our playlists would become very quiet, our bookshelves much emptier, and our watchlists surprisingly very very short.
So yes… I’ll probably watch the Ryan Reynolds movie. I’ll still listen to Morgan Wallen. I’ll probably pick up another Colleen Hoover book if the story interests me.
I won’t do all that because I think any of them are perfect, I will do it because I’m learning to appreciate the art without expecting perfection from the artist. And honestly… I think there’s a little more peace in living that way… Peace for me.
Yesterday, I learned a lesson I thought I already knew. You see, for years, I’ve had someone professionally wrap my nails with acrylic and gel. Last weekend, she couldn’t make our Saturday appointment, and I was too busy to see her on Sunday. By the time the new week started, my nail wraps were lifting, and I could tell I was about to lose some of my natural nails underneath. I looked at the situation and thought to myself, “How difficult could it be?”
I bought the materials and decided to do it myself. Within a few minutes, reality set in. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. Not the slightest.
The neat finish I had admired for years suddenly became a mystery. The smooth application and how she shapes the nails and her precision. I began to even think about her patience. I dawned on me, it all required a level of skill I simply didn’t have. By the time I was done… Done here means I gave up, I had gained something far more valuable than a fresh set of very badly done nails: I gained a renewed respect for the woman who has been doing them all these years.
That experience reminded me of something that happened years ago.
My husband once watched me write an inscription on a cake. He complained about how it didn’t look as pretty as it should be. At that time I was yet to master the art, but I was doing alright. In his mind, writing on a cake couldn’t be that difficult.
So I handed him the piping bag.
He barely started before he realized what I had known all along. He smiled, admitted defeat, and handed the piping bag back to me with the words, “Everybody naim sabi how dem de do their handwork o.”
Keeping your hand steady, controlling the pressure, spacing the letters correctly, maintaining consistency, and creating something beautiful on a soft surface is not something you simply “pick up.” It is a skill developed over time through practice, patience, mistakes, and experience.
Yesterday, I found myself doing exactly the same thing with my nail technician’s craft.
Life has a funny way of keeping us humble.
We often look at someone else’s work and think, I can do that. But what we usually see is the finished product, not the countless hours of learning, failing, improving, and mastering that came before it.
The truth is that every profession, every trade, every craft carries a level of expertise that deserves respect. Whether it’s a baker, a hairdresser, a nail technician, a tailor, a carpenter, an accountant, a teacher, or a mechanic, each person has invested time in becoming good at what they do.
No skill is insignificant.
No craft is “easy” just because someone else makes it look effortless.
Perhaps that’s the real mark of mastery: making difficult things appear simple.
So today, I celebrate people who have taken the time to become excellent at their craft. And I remind myself that I don’t have to be good at everything. It’s perfectly okay to appreciate someone else’s expertise instead of trying to replace it.
After all, everyone is perfect in their own skill.
The next time you’re tempted to say, “How hard can it be?” remember that someone has spent years making it look that easy.
And maybe… just maybe… that’s worth applauding.
What’s one skill you once thought was easy until you tried it yourself? I’d love to hear your story.
I haven’t always loved June… June became my favorite month because it gave me my son. That was the year 2013. Since then, it has carried a kind of quiet significance for me. I’ve written about that here before, and every year when June arrives, I subconsciously expect it to leave a mark.
Last year, June almost disappointed me. It was shaping up to be one of those months I’d rather forget until an unexpected rescue arrived. It wasn’t a person or a dramatic event, it was a book series. The Windy City Series found me at exactly the right time. Those stories didn’t solve my problems, but they gave me somewhere to rest emotionally. They kind of reminded me that sometimes healing comes disguised as entertainment. Yes it does.
This year was different though… Nothing spectacular happened. There weren’t any major milestones or life-changing announcements. And yet, as June comes to an end, I realize it has been one of my favorite months in a long time.
It was peaceful.
Somewhere between the ordinary days, I noticed something had changed. I wasn’t carrying the same weight I’d been carrying for months. Since my former boss’s contract ended in March, I’ve slowly been recovering from a season that left me constantly stressed, irritable, and emotionally exhausted. I didn’t notice the healing while it was happening. But June made me aware of it.
For the first time in a while, I caught up with myself. I watched lots of movies. I disappeared into television series. I finished books simply because I wanted to, not because I was trying to escape. I laughed more. I rested more. I lived at a gentler pace. A very gentle pace.
Looking back, I think that’s what made June beautiful. June was very kind.
We’re often taught to measure good months by promotions, celebrations, achievements, or life-changing moments. I’m thinking this; maybe some months deserve to be remembered for something quieter. Maybe some months exist simply to return us to ourselves.
I checked everywhere I had been, and one of the places was my mom’s room at home. I went there and asked her as well. We searched, and she was really worried.
I was actually worried and stressed because the purse had all my credit cards and my driver’s license, which I had just renewed for five years. The cards could have been canceled at the bank, but the driver’s license was my major issue.
Anyway, after a whole week, I found the purse under the driver’s seat of my car….one week of all the worries and stress.
My mom’s response was practical. She said that next time I should have my name on the purse so that if anybody sees it, they know it’s mine.
Now, I should explain something about myself: I am an extremist.
So I took her advice and ran with it.
The photo below is what I did.
But here’s the part that makes the story even better: I hid the purse myself. The culprit, the investigator, the victim, and the person who finally recovered the purse were all the same person.
Apparently, I had protected my purse so well that I successfully protected it from myself.
Sometimes we don’t lose things. Sometimes we just create a hiding place so effective that even we can’t find it again.
I first knew John Krasinski from The Office, and I liked him immediately. I liked how Jim just minded his business… You’d always see those memes like “This is Jim. Jim minds his business, be like Jim.”
I also loved him and Pam together. His patience, the softness, the waiting. Their relationship was so genuine.
So when John Krasinski became Jack Ryan, I noticed immediately… Yup.
The thing is, I’m actually not new to Tom Clancy’s world, I’ve read The Hunt for Red October and Patriot Games, and I’ve seen some of the older Jack Ryan movies too where Alec Baldwin, Harrison Ford, Ben Affleck and Chris Pine did real good in that role… But because it was John Krasinski this time, I wanted to experience it differently. I kept telling myself I should properly sit down for the series and maybe even revisit the books again before starting. Then life happened, and I kept postponing it… For years.
At the beginning of 2026, though, I remember telling myself I was finally going to watch all four seasons of Jack Ryan… And then the 2026 movie debuted. Jack Ryan: Ghost War…
…And now I think I actually will.
There’s just something interesting about seeing someone you first knew as quiet, funny, observant Jim become a serious intelligence analyst thrown into so much global chaos. So yeah. I think I’m finally ready for my John Krasinski Jack Ryan era.
I remember writing here in Lady about my wishes to be taken to a particular time. A time when Chivalry was popular. In medieval times, when there was honor, courage, loyalty, humility, protection of the vulnerable, honesty, and respectful behavior toward others.
Over time, Chivalry has evolved to mean different things to many people. Some people associate chivalry with simple acts of courtesy like opening doors, walking someone to their car, offering to share an umbrella when it’s raining, standing up when someone enters a room, or speaking with kindness and restraint… But historically, chivalry was much deeper than politeness. It was about character.
Chivalry was never about dramatic gestures. It was about disciplined humanity.
The questions that arise when we talk about chilvary would be; How do you treat people when there is nothing to gain?… How do you handle power?… Do you protect… or do you exploit?… Are you honorable when nobody is watching?
So… Is Chivalry Lost?
This question comes to my mind often because I feel the world has become colder, harsher, and more self-focused. We scroll through stories of betrayal, disrespect, manipulation, and cruelty so often that gentleness can begin to feel rare. People interrupt more quickly… The art of listening is lost. Relationships feel more disposable… Sadly. Pride often speaks louder than humility. Kindness is sometimes mistaken for weakness… Yes.
One reason I think chivalry is dying is because modern culture sometimes reduces it to aesthetics instead of values. For instance, a man opening a door means little if he is emotionally careless or grand romantic gestures are empty if respect disappears during conflict in relationships.
The truth is this, chivalry was never supposed to be a performance. It is consistency. A truly chivalrous person will respect people who cannot benefit them, they’ll speak honestly, control their temper, protect rather than humiliate, they will listen and keep promises.
To some extent, chilvary might have had a little more hope today, but I fear that social media also changed how we see human worth. Life has become fast and public… Outrage spreads faster than gentleness and sadly cruelty has become entertainment. People are rewarded for being mean and untouchable. On social media vulnerability, patience, and courtesy can seem “uncool.”
I once saw an argument that said “The Problem Is Not That Chivalry Died”. It argued that people were tired and that tired people were defensive and that hurt people became guarded. The argument continued to say that when enough people stop expecting goodness, they stop practicing it too. It’s so sad how true this sounds.
I have been thinking about this for weeks now and after much thought and consideration, I think every generation believes kindness is disappearing. Yet somehow, every generation still produces deeply honorable people. Quiet people. Gentle people. People who help others without needing applause. They simply do not trend online as often.
I’ve convinced myself, maybe chivalry looks different now. Maybe it’s more modern, not like knights and horses. Maybe it’s just; honest communication, respecting boundaries, a friend checking in during hard times, a person refusing to embarrass someone publicly, someone choosing integrity even when dishonesty would be easier just like I wrote in The Better Victory.
I will sleep better as I tell myself that chivalry is probably not completely lost… it’s just no longer automatic.
