Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending a deeply meaningful panel discussion titled Supporting People Together, hosted by Pathways Clubhouse, Vancouver Coastal Health, and Chimo Community Services. Held at the Brighouse Library in Richmond, the event marked World Suicide Prevention Day with a powerful blend of personal storytelling, professional insight, and community solidarity.

Stories That Stay With You

One of the most unforgettable moments came from a smart and caring 20-year-old woman who bravely shared her experience of surviving three suicide attempts. She spoke candidly about her struggles with mental health, the impact of sudden changes in her family situation, and the personal pressures that made life feel unbearable. Through it all, her mother remained a steady source of support—proof that love, patience, and presence can be life-saving.

Her story reminded us that healing is never linear. It’s messy, painful, and often invisible. But it’s also possible. And it’s never something we can fully understand from the outside.

She also shared a moment that was especially painful: a health care professional once told her that instead of seeking help or considering suicide, she should be helping others—because she was studying counseling. That comment, though perhaps intended to be encouraging, dismissed her pain and placed an unfair burden on her. It was a stark reminder that even professionals need help, care, and attention too. No one is immune to struggle, and no one should be expected to carry others while they’re still trying to survive themselves.

Insights and Support

A counsellor from Vancouver Coastal Health followed with clinical perspectives on suicide prevention, emphasizing the importance of recognizing warning signs, reducing stigma, and creating safe spaces for open dialogue. Both Chimo Community Services and VCH were present not only as organizers but as pillars of support. Each organization offers suicide prevention and emergency services for individuals in crisis—resources that are essential and available to anyone who needs them.

Lessons in Empathy and Openness

During the event, I had a meaningful conversation with the young woman about the importance of being open to talk about suicide—even with children as young as ten, especially when we notice changes in their behavior or emotional state. These conversations, when approached with care and honesty, can open doors to their hearts. They may feel seen, heard, and reassured that someone truly cares.

We also discussed a common fear: that talking about suicide or death might somehow plant the idea in someone’s mind. But the truth is, avoiding the topic doesn’t protect people—it isolates them. The stigma around suicide often prevents people from seeking help, and silence can be more harmful than the conversation itself.

She challenged us to look deeper. We often assume that someone is “okay” because they appear to be. Just because a young person looks great, studies hard, has friends, and seems energetic doesn’t mean they’re not struggling. Pain can hide behind smiles. Suffering doesn’t always look like sadness. And that’s why empathy means going beyond the surface—being willing to ask, to listen, and to care without assumptions.

Another stigma we explored was the idea that people who talk about suicide are “just seeking attention.” Yes, sometimes people do reach out in ways that look like attention-seeking—but that’s not a reason to dismiss them. In fact, it’s often an invitation for help, care, and consideration. When someone expresses distress, it’s not a performance—it’s a signal. And it’s our responsibility to respond with compassion, not judgment.

Community in Action

Before the panel began, the lobby of Brighouse Library was filled with resource tables from Pathways, VCH, and Chimo. These weren’t just brochures—they were bridges. Staff and volunteers were there to answer questions, offer guidance, and remind us that help is always within reach. The atmosphere was warm, welcoming, and deeply supportive.

What I’m Taking Forward

This experience reminded me that suicide prevention isn’t just about responding to crisis—it’s about building connection. It’s about creating environments where people feel seen, heard, and valued. It’s about showing up, even when we don’t have the perfect words.

If there’s one message I want to carry forward, it’s this: hope thrives in connection. And each of us has the power to be that connection for someone else.