money anxiety

Subscriber exclusiveMoney trauma is a growing topic of discussion in Singapore, say coaches and social workersAlyssa WooFollow topic:InvestSummaryMoney trauma could stems from childhood financial struggles, impacting adults' emotions, identities, and behaviours around money, often causing anxiety.Rising living costs and job insecurity in Singapore have increased money-related stress, with many facing retrenchment fears and financial instability.Experts stress understanding personal money beliefs, breaking generational cycles, and seeking financial education and support to manage and overcome money trauma effectively.AI generatedPublished 13 hours agoUpdated 3 hours agoListenSign up for ST InvestMe and unlock full access to exclusive insights and financial literacy courses today.SINGAPORE – Growing up, Michelle Mah felt like money was never enough and “always hard to earn”.Her family home was filled with hand-me-down furniture, including a faux leather grey sofa “we used to death until it had holes”.Her father, who worked in the government sector, had only secondary school education. Watching her parents struggle and argue over money, she had a strong sense that she and her older brother had to work hard to “get out of that cycle”.One pivotal moment came when her parents cashed out their insurance policies to fund the two siblings’ university education without taking out loans.Her childhood experiences left her believing that “you have to struggle” for money and that “nothing comes without cost” – a mindset that shaped her work, relationships and approach to money.She drew a starting salary of $2,800 in her previous job in the events industry and would splurge on bags from luxury brands such as Prada, Louis Vuitton and Gucci. That phase reflected a time when money and possessions were closely tied to her identity. She has since learnt to base her sense of self-worth on something beyond them and has sold off those bags.Armed with her own experience with money, Mah, 37, is now a psychotherapist and coach who helps clients with their money woes.Having grown up with money struggles, Michelle Mah, now a psychotherapist and coach, says that children can learn about money just by observing adults fret over bills. PHOTO: COURTESY OF MICHELLE MAHAlyssa Woo is a business correspondent at The Straits Times. She writes about how retail and work spaces are used and evolve with the times, as well as personal finance stories for the Invest section.See more onInvestMoney MattersSocial workDebt restructuring/InsolvencyST InvestMeTop storiesExplore top stories from all sections in one placeSingaporeSingaporeSingaporeSportNational Cancer Centre e-mail lapse allegedly exposes patients’ details including names, workplacesHDB completes Tengah BTO project using new technologies2-year-old S’pore boy is one of estimated 400 in world with disease caused by single altered geneGan Ching Hwee leads few Asiad medal hopefuls in transition period for Singapore swimming

down sizing

Subscriber exclusiveCan’t bear to downsize your home? Think of it as rightsizingAngela TanFollow topic:ST InvestMePublished 15 hours agoUpdated 5 hours agoListenSign up for ST InvestMe and unlock full access to exclusive insights and financial literacy courses today.SINGAPORE – It all started over a get-together of old friends and empty nesters whose children are grown up and have moved out of the family home.Patrick Chan and his wife Julie have lived in the same detached house for more than 30 years. It is where Julie grew up and, after she got married, raised her children and watched her family grow. Today, things are different.Their sons are married and have their own homes, and their daughter is working overseas. Their rooms have become storage rooms.On most days, it is just Patrick and Julie and their helper.One evening over dinner, Patrick casually wondered if they should sell the house and downsize to a smaller place.It was a simple question, but it sparked an angry outburst from his wife, who viewed the proposition as a downgrade in lifestyle and status.“I can’t talk to her about money or downsizing. She gets so emotional,” says Patrick with a sigh. “Our current place was last renovated before we moved in with her parents. We added another floor.“Every day feels like a military operation – I have to plan my movements to avoid climbing up and down the stairs multiple times,” he adds.Bothered lately by his cranky knees, he figured it might be more convenient to move to a more compact home with newer fittings that could be cheaper to maintain, easier to clean and better suited to this stage of life. Doing so would also allow the couple to unlock the money tied up in the house Julie inherited when her parents passed away. This could give them more financial freedom to enjoy retirement, including spending on travel, healthcare, hobbies and other things they value, without constantly worrying about money. Unfortunately, Julie does not feel the same way. She is emotionally attached to the place and the neighbourhood, though in her heart she knows Patrick is just being practical.See more onST InvestMeInvestSingapore propertyRetirement planningTop storiesExplore top stories from all sections in one placeSingaporeSingaporeSingaporeSingaporeFitness chains tout incentives to lure members affected by True Fitness, True Yoga closuresIn an uncertain world with many problems, Singaporeans must help each other: SM LeeWorker dies after being struck by hose at Jurong Port Road construction site; MOM investigatingInclusive festival lets visitors experience life through the eyes of disabled artists

retire with 20 years or more

Subscriber exclusiveWhy it’s important to know how to spend time meaningfully after retirementBrian J. O’ConnorFollow topic:InvestPublished Sep 4, 2026, 5:00 AMUpdated Sep 4, 2026, 4:42 PMListen“They’re stressed, they’re done, they retire, and at some point they’re recharged and they come back to work, especially the more educated group, where there’s not a physical component to the job.”Work that is physically demanding and low-wage jobs extend inequality in the labour force to inequality in retirement, too, denying the benefits of a lengthier retirement to many older Americans, Sanzenbacher added. Black and Hispanic Americans, or people who live in multi-generational households where they support parents or children and grandchildren, are among the groups most likely to keep working well past retirement age.More on this topicFinancial freedom is being able to pay for all expenses, not how much you have How you can do better than having $600,000 in your bank account Envisioning a long retirementA retirement of 20 years or longer can cover three phases: an active, healthy phase right after leaving work, followed by a period of less activity, and a final period when retirees settle into a lifestyle with little activity near the end of life.•Phase one: If they have the resources, this is when retirees should travel, before illnesses or ailments show up. Conventional wisdom once held that spending dropped after you left work, but later, research found that spending actually increased as retirees took up new hobbies, travelled, relocated and pursued other long-delayed plans.•Phase two: After 10 to 15 active years, physical reality catches up with 75- or 80-year-old retirees. Those who were working part-time have typically finished but still have time for family, friends and social activities. Spending tapers off.•Phase three: After an additional five to 10 years, retirees typically stay closer to home with less activity and may develop more serious health issues that can lead to large medical bills. As at 2025, the median cost for non-medical caregiver services at home was US$80,000 a year (assuming 44 hours a week), assisted living was just over US$74,000, and a private nursing home room cost about US$130,000.Like all retirement decisions, though, lifestyle comes down to money. Check with a planner to see whether your finances will support your goals, and don’t ignore inflation.At the Federal Reserve’s target rate of 2 per cent annual inflation, a retiree living on US$5,000 a month in 2026 would spend more than US$7,400 per month 20 years from now to cover their expenses. But inflation doesn’t stick to the average – the rate for June was 3.5 per cent, nearly twice as high as the Fed’s target.“Most people haven’t thought through what their life will be like in retirement,” Crews said. “They’ll say, ‘I’ll figure it out. I’m going to go to Yellowstone, I’ll go on cruises.’ They need to consider the work benefits that don’t involve a pay cheque – friendships, solving problems and feeling like you play a significant role. The question is, ‘Where are you going to find purpose?’ And it’s not going to be on a cruise ship.” NYTIMES•This article originally appeared in The New York Times.See more onMore on this topicInvestRetirementLearn how to manage your money better at InvestMe event on Sept 17Retirement planningHobbiesFinancial literacyRetire with more money? Learn how to grow $1m in your CPF from the first InvestMe event videoTop storiesExplore top stories from all sections in one placeSingaporeSingaporeSingaporeSingaporeFitness chains tout incentives to lure members affected by True Fitness, True Yoga closuresIn an uncertain world with many problems, Singaporeans must help each other: SM LeeWorker dies after being struck by hose at Jurong Port Road construction site; MOM investigatingInclusive festival lets visitors experience life through the eyes of disabled artists

why e rich feel anxious about not having enough money

Subscriber exclusiveEven rich people feel anxious about moneyAngela TanFollow topic:InvestPublished 1 hour agoUpdated 1 hour agoListenMany assume financial anxiety disappears once people become wealthy. That is further from the truth. You earn $100,000 per year and think you would stop losing sleep if you earned double that.Or you might have reached a net worth of $2 million but think you would feel safer with $3 million. You continually shift the goalposts on what would give you peace of mind. While this might seem like a “nice problem” to have, any issue that causes distress is worth trying to address. Unwarranted money anxiety is essentially the same as other forms of anxieties. You feel more anxious than the hard numbers would suggest you need to be, and it consumes your thinking, gets in the way of your relationships, or holds you back from doing activities that reflect your values.“Even the rich feel anxious,” Teo says.Wealth frequently comes with a bundle of expectations, and there is anxiety and pressure to make smart money decisions, such as how it should be managed, spent, passed on to future generations or used to create a legacy.Nvidia’s co-founder and chief executive, Jensen Huang, offers an interesting case study on the psychology of wealth and success.Huang is ranked by Forbes as the eighth wealthiest person in the world, with an estimated net worth of over US$187 billion (S$238 billion) as at Aug 29, 2026.Yet, despite leading one of the world’s most valuable technology companies, Huang often says he operates in a constant state of anxiety as though Nvidia could fail at any moment. Success does not prevent anxiety, he says. Sometimes it simply changes what we are anxious about. When you are struggling financially, you worry about paying next month’s bills. When you are wealthy, you may worry about protecting what you have built, staying ahead or losing it all.“What this tells us is that financial anxiety is rarely truly about money,” Teo says.“It is about safety, control and identity. When we place our entire sense of security in something the world can always threaten a portfolio, a business, a title, every fluctuation becomes not just a practical problem but an existential one. The anxiety is not irrational.”More on this topicHow much money is enough? Watch and learn from the video of the second InvestMe eventBeing rich is successful? 40% of Singaporeans seem to think soWanting moreWealth is like seawater – the more we drink, the thirstier we become, said philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer.Like salt water that dehydrates the body, more money does not quench our desires. Instead, it intensifies them, triggering a craving for an ever-bigger fortune. Modern psychology calls this hedonic adaptation. Have you ever noticed how quickly something you have longed for simply feels “normal”?Teo recalls meeting a mid-level professional who had worked for years towards a promotion. When it finally came with a pay increase, she was elated. Three months later, she said that exhilaration had evaporated.  When something good happens – whether it is a pay rise, a promotion or a new purchase like a car or a bigger house – we experience a genuine spike in positive emotion. But before long, we recalibrate. The excitement fades, and we find ourselves roughly back where we started emotionally, but with a higher baseline expectation.“The capacity to find genuine satisfaction and contentment in the present – in relationships, in small pleasures, in meaningful work – is an important determinant of our ability to experience happiness,” Teo says.For rich individuals, wealth is rarely assessed in isolation. Social comparison can fuel anxiety as wealth is measured relative to peers, to past performance and to an ever-expanding set of future liabilities. A $1 million portfolio may once have represented security. Today, it can feel insufficient in a world of rising asset prices, longevity risk and inter-generational planning.Stock markets themselves amplify this dynamic. Over the past decade, periods of strong returns in equities, especially in technology stocks, have led investors to expect outsized gains. More on this topicLearn how to manage your money better at InvestMe event on Sept 17Why being asset-rich can still result in no cash and debt The burden of preservationAccumulating wealth and maintaining it are different challenges, experts say.Accumulating wealth may require risk-taking, concentration and timing. Maintaining it demands diversification, discipline and, often, restraint. For some people, making that psychological shift from taking risks to exercising restraint can be challenging.See more onInvestST InvestMeFinancial planningFinancial literacyWealth managementTop storiesExplore top stories from all sections in one placeAsiaAsiaAsiaSingapore‘The river… was going to consume the entire world’: Nepal flood survivors recount harrowing experienceTour boss searches for missing brother and 54 pilgrims by air after Nepal floodsChinese rescuers zero in on Tibet mudslide site as lake threat easesThe Million Dollar Round Table: Is insurance’s most famous accolade now an overused honour?

caregiving for someone with autism

Walk a mile in my shoes as mother of two children with autismThe daily weight of caregiving is exhausting, and affects caregivers’ mental health, not to mention careers. What can be done to ease the burden?Lim Hong HuayFollow topic:Caregivers/CaregivingPublished Aug 19, 2026, 5:00 AMUpdated Aug 19, 2026, 5:00 AMListenWhen middle age struck, my body gave way. Three operations and multiple health problems in the span of five years taught me that I have to care better for myself, in order to care longer for my children even as adults. I began to learn to say “I cannot”, “I need a break”, “please help me”. Forgiveness and self-care are essential survival skills for a caregiver. I started CaringSG in 2020, a non-profit initiative to support caregivers of children with special needs. It has served more than 5,000 caregivers. I was also a steering committee member for the Enabling Masterplan 2030 and co-chaired the Alliance for Action for Caregivers of Persons with Disabilities. These national initiatives help develop solutions related to support for caregivers. As for the impending task force recommendations, to prevent families like Soo and Lu from slipping through the cracks of our society, we need intentional and tighter care coordination across life stages. Embedding mainstream funding for caregiver support within the provision of disability services would ensure programme sustainability. In the workplace, I hope for more support for caregivers to find and stay in jobs. Work gives dignity, purpose and relief. With a job, caregivers can continue to contribute income taxes and to the nation’s economic growth. With the Tripartite Guidelines on Flexible Work Arrangement Requests, I hope more employers will support caregivers’ requests for flexi-place, flexi-time and flexi-load options. For businesses, supporting a worker who is a caregiver could reduce needless turnover and boost employee engagement. Ultimately, a caregiver’s well-being is proportional to the amount of societal support.Some caregivers stop hoping for help, accept the status quo, and stay in “bubble” lives of seclusion. In CaringSG’s CAREkaki programme, we visited homes with grassroots workers. It was not surprising to find those with disabilities or autism locked away in the home with aged caregivers. On the other hand, many caregivers have grown new businesses and spearheaded ground-up initiatives.My wishes are for more medical, allied health, social service and educational professionals to go into our homes to know our lives and our children better. When things do not work out as expected, please stick with us to search for new answers together. And also that when we caregivers are no longer able to look after our children, we would like to know there are dignified and trustworthy care options so our children will not be left behind and forgotten. Family, friends and professionals – all of society – walk with us. We need you.•Lim Hong Huay, a developmental and behavioural paediatrician, is the founder of CaringSG and a senior consultant at Rophi Clinic Novena.•The Spectrum is an Opinion series that examines the issues and challenges people with autism and their caregivers face across the different stages of their lives.See more onCaregivers/CaregivingAutismSingapore societyTop storiesExplore top stories from all sections in one placeSingaporeAsiaAsiaSingapore‘I don’t know what to tell our 7-year-old daughter’: Husband of S’pore woman missing in Nepal floods9 Singaporeans among 517 foreigners out of contact after deadly Nepal-Tibet floodsSearch for 1,300 missing after deadly Nepal-Tibet floodsEn bloc reforms may spark more deals, but not a repeat of 2018 boom cycleq

y buy books undont read

At busy times, I find I simply cannot read as much as I would like to. Life has a habit of filling every available hour with work, meetings, e-mails, chores, errands and deadlines. Standing in one of my natural habitats – a bookshop – it is frustrating to see so many things I want to read while knowing I do not have the time.My usual consolation is to buy the book anyway and let a small, satisfying pile build up, looking ahead to the next quieter stretch when I might finally open them. It is oddly satisfying. Some might call this clutter. The Japanese have a far more elegant word for it: tsundoku.The term describes the habit of acquiring books and allowing them to accumulate unread. It combines the idea of stacking things up (tsunde), leaving something for later (oku) and reading (doku). The result is a concept that captures the quiet optimism of a pile of books.Far from being a sign of being time poor or lacking in discipline, tsundoku may reveal something surprisingly important about how the brain responds to anticipation.When we encounter something that promises enjoyment or discovery, the brain’s reward system becomes active. One important pathway runs from the ventral tegmental area, a dopamine-producing region in the midbrain involved in motivation, to the nucleus accumbens, a structure that helps generate feelings of reward.Dopamine is often described as a pleasure chemical, but that is too simple. One of its key roles is helping the brain identify opportunities worth pursuing. Rather than rewarding us only after something beneficial has happened, the brain often rewards us in advance, encouraging behaviours that are likely to prove valuable.From an evolutionary perspective, this makes sense. Our ancestors benefited from seeking out food before they were hungry, shelter before a storm arrived and useful knowledge before they needed it. A brain that could anticipate future rewards had a clear advantage over one that responded only to immediate needs.This means dopamine responds not only to rewards themselves but also to the expectation of reward.The anticipation of a pleasurable experience can activate reward pathways long before the experience takes place.An unread book is a good example. It may remain closed for weeks or months, but the brain has already recognised its potential value, enjoying the prospect before the first page has been turned.The hippocampus, a structure deep within the brain best known for its role in memory, also plays an important part. While we often think of the hippocampus as helping us remember the past, it is equally important for imagining the future. The same neural machinery that allows us to reconstruct previous experiences helps us construct future ones.When you picture yourself finally reading that book on a summer holiday, during a long train journey or curled up on the sofa on a rainy afternoon, the hippocampus begins to assemble that future experience. It binds together fragments of previous experiences stored across the brain – the warmth of sunshine, the smell of coffee, the sound of turning pages, the comfort of your favourite chair – into a coherent mental scene. In effect, the brain uses memories of the past to rehearse pleasures that have yet to happen.This ability may be more important than we realise. Psychologists increasingly recognise positive anticipation as a contributor to well-being. Looking forward to enjoyable experiences can improve mood, increase motivation and provide a buffer against everyday stress. In some circumstances, the anticipation of an event can be almost as rewarding as the event itself.This may explain why a pile of unread books feels so different from a pile of unanswered e-mails. Both represent things waiting to be done, yet the difference lies in how the brain interprets them. Unanswered e-mails are future obligations whereas unread books are future rewards.It is perhaps no coincidence that this behaviour feels strongest in bookshops rather than online. Physical browsing engages the brain more fully, drawing on sensory, spatial and reward systems that make discovery feel richer and more memorable. For example, the distinctive, slightly sweet scent of paper and ink is detected by the olfactory system and routed directly to regions involved in memory and emotion, including the hippocampus and amygdala.Long before a book is read, the experience of finding it is already becoming associated with pleasure. So perhaps tsundoku may reflect one of the brain’s most remarkable abilities: the capacity to derive genuine pleasure from experiences that have not yet happened.•Michelle Spear is professor of anatomy at the University of Bristol. This first appeared in The Conversation.More on this topicSleepless in Singapore? A book can be a quiet antidoteParents want well-read kids, but are they themselves reading? 

dependent on everything

For more than two decades, my work has revolved around helping leaders navigate uncertainty. I spend my days planning, deciding, solving problems and helping organisations move forward. I am the sort of person who carries a list, anticipates the next challenge and quietly believes that, with enough effort, I can hold everything together.This year, I learnt what happens when you cannot.The lesson did not come from a book, a boardroom or a carefully prepared plan. It came from a chair – the one beside a hospital bed, close enough to hold my husband’s hand as he went through major surgery at Singapore’s National University Hospital.From that chair, everything I thought I understood about strength, dependence and the kindness of strangers looked very different.Depending entirely on othersLike many people accustomed to being capable, I entered the hospital believing I could manage everything on my own. I would ask the right questions, understand the answers and stay a step ahead.Instead, I found myself utterly dependent – on surgeons whose skill I could not evaluate, on nurses whose names I was only beginning to learn, on a system whose rhythms I did not know. For someone accustomed to being the one others relied on, there was something humbling, even frightening, about having to trust so completely. What surprised me was how gently that dependence was received.I carried pages of questions into every consultation. Some were clinical. Many were simply the anxious questions of a wife who was afraid. Never once did the surgeon, the doctors or the nurses make me feel that I was asking too much, repeating myself or taking up too much of their time. Every question was answered patiently. Every concern was acknowledged. And I came to understand that being allowed to voice your fears without judgment is itself a form of care.My friend, AIHospitals speak a language that is unfamiliar to most of us. Numbers flashed across monitors. Blood test results appeared on the patient portal. There were medical abbreviations that meant nothing to me. More than once, I found myself asking artificial intelligence to explain a laboratory reading or a clinical term. It would patiently translate complex medical language into something I could understand and, just as importantly, reassure me when the values were within normal limits.It never replaced the doctors. It simply helped me become a calmer, better-informed caregiver while waiting for the next medical review. Later, it quietly helped me manage another invisible burden – keeping track of who I had updated, who was still waiting to hear from me, and helping me find the words when I was emotionally exhausted. In the long, quiet hours beside the bed – when the ward was asleep and there was no one to ask – that quiet reassurance mattered more than I expected.The names I never learntPatients naturally remember the lead surgeon. Yet, from my chair, I saw how many hands a single recovery requires.Over 48 hours in the intensive care unit, I watched anaesthetists, ICU specialists, junior doctors, nurses, physiotherapists, pharmacists and dietitians move around my husband with a precision that looked almost choreographed. Handovers were seamless. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do, and to trust that the person beside them did too.The operation carried one surgeon’s name. But the healing belonged to a whole community of people, most of whom I would never be able to thank by name. I have thought about them often since – the quiet ones, doing essential work no dashboard will ever capture, whose care a frightened family member will remember for the rest of her life.Those small gesturesIf there is one thing I did not expect, it is how much the smallest gestures would come to mean.My husband’s surgery fell on his birthday. The nurses, noticing this, arranged a small celebration for him – a modest, tender gesture in the middle of a frightening week. They allowed me to visit him and spend some time with him. They found little ways to make a clinical space feel briefly human.The kindness extended to me as well. Ward staff noticed when exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm me. Even the catering staff gently guided me through the meal options, quietly making sure that I, too, was eating properly during those difficult days – a small thing that, in that moment, felt like being looked after.None of these gestures changed the clinical outcome. Not one of them would appear in a medical record. And yet every one of them changed our experience of those days.That is the part I keep returning to. We may forget the exact procedures, the forms and the schedules. But we rarely forget how people made us feel when we were afraid, tired and uncertain.More on this topicAfter years of caring for their ill parents, they quit their jobs to care for other caregiversSeniors caring for seniors: What caregiving looks like in a super-aged societyLearning that I was not indispensableI have always been someone who likes control. I enjoy solving problems, influencing outcomes and ensuring that things move forward. I quietly believed that if I stepped away unexpectedly, work would inevitably suffer. When my husband underwent surgery, I had no choice but to leave work immediately.And something remarkable happened... Nothing fell apart.Programmes continued. Contracts were signed. Meetings went ahead. My colleagues stepped in, supported one another and gave me the space I needed without once making me feel guilty for being absent. Behind that was my boss’ unwavering assurance that my only responsibility was to be with my husband. A few days later, my colleagues sent a care package. My immediate reaction was, “But he isn’t even an SMU employee.” That thought lasted only a moment. The package was never about employment. It was about my department telling me that caring for the family is also caring for the colleague.That experience taught me a humbling truth. It’s not about being indispensable and everything depending on you... It is about building systems, processes and people strong enough to continue flourishing even when you are not there.The gift of family and friendsOur son became our 24-hour hotline from the United Kingdom, checking in despite the time difference, waiting anxiously for every update after each medical review. Parents, siblings, relatives and friends reached out from different parts of the world. Prayers travelled across continents long before messages did.My husband had made one request even before the surgery: He did not want visitors in the hospital or during his recovery at home. He wanted the space to heal quietly. It was not an easy request to honour.Friends wanted to visit, colleagues wanted to help and family members wanted reassurance. There were moments when the emotional weight felt heavier than the physical exhaustion – repeating the same updates, responding to the same questions and trying to reassure others when I was seeking reassurance myself.More on this topicEasing the pain for patients and families when an illness has no cureFrom dreams to duty: A woman’s caregiving journey after her husband’s stroke upends retirement plans Before the surgery, my husband had gently reminded me to be patient with people. He knows that under stress I can become abrupt, sometimes saying things I later regret. His words stayed with me. During those weeks, I found myself choosing grace over impatience. I reminded myself that every message, every phone call and every inquiry came from one place alone – love.Looking back now, I realise that concern is one of the purest expressions of friendship. People often feel helpless in the face of illness. They cannot take away the pain or shorten the recovery. What they can offer is their presence, their prayers and the quiet assurance that you are not walking the journey alone.Gratitude, when you finally sit stillIn the hospital those days, there was suddenly nothing to do but sit, wait, hope and pray. And in that stillness, an unexpected feeling took root: gratitude.Gratitude for the hospital staff who carried us through uncertainty with skill and compassion. For colleagues who quietly took on more so that I could be absent. For prayers offered in churches, temples and mosques by people who love us. Gratitude, too, for living in a country where we could place our trust in a healthcare system that cared not only for the patient, but also for those waiting anxiously beside the bed.Looking back, I realise how many things had to go right for us to arrive safely on the other side. They did.Back in the comfort of our home now, I still find myself thinking about that chair. The one beside the bed, close enough to hold my husband’s hand, far enough from the rest of my family and the busy life I had left behind.From that chair, I could not fix anything, or take charge. I could only be present, and trust, and hope and pray – and pray I did.For most of my life, I believed strength meant being the one in control. This year, from a hospital chair, I learnt that sometimes strength is trusting others. Sometimes it is accepting help. Sometimes it is simply sitting beside the person you love, holding his hand, and believing that tomorrow will be kinder than today.Sometimes it means letting go.•The writer is head of Commercial with the office of Executive Development at the Singapore Management University.More on this topicWho steps in when parents suddenly fall ill? Discuss caregiving plans early, say expertsA 10-minute walk from the MRT. But for whom?