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By John S. Collier, MSW, LCSW-S
Every generation has moments that become permanently etched into memory. For many Americans, September 11, 2001, is one of those moments. It is a day marked by sorrow, sacrifice, courage, and unity. Twenty-five years later, we still remember where we were, how we felt, and the profound impact that day had on our nation and the world.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, nineteen terrorists hijacked four commercial aircraft. Two planes were flown into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City, one struck the Pentagon, and a fourth crashed in Pennsylvania after passengers courageously fought back against the hijackers. Nearly 3,000 people lost their lives in what remains the deadliest foreign attack on American soil. Yet while the events of that day revealed unimaginable evil, they also revealed something else: the remarkable strength of the human spirit.
We remember the firefighters who climbed stairwells while others were descending to safety. We remember the police officers who rushed toward danger. We remember emergency medical personnel, military members, volunteers, and ordinary citizens who placed the lives of strangers above their own. More than 2,000 police officers and nearly 1,000 firefighters responded to the World Trade Center attacks, joining countless others in rescue and recovery efforts. Their actions remind us that heroism is not always found in grand speeches or celebrated victories. Often, it is found in quiet acts of service, in selfless sacrifice, and in the willingness to help another human being despite personal risk.
For me, September 11 carries an additional significance. It is the day my son was born.
Over the years, people have often asked what it was like to welcome a child into the world on a day overshadowed by national tragedy. The answer is difficult to put into words. While television screens showed devastation, uncertainty, and heartbreak, I was also witnessing one of the most meaningful moments of my life. The contrast was profound. A day of collective grief became, for me, a day forever intertwined with the gift of new life.
As my son grew older, each birthday became more than a celebration. It became an opportunity to pause and remember. Before the cake is cut, before gifts are opened, before the laughter begins, there is reflection. Reflection on those who never came home. Reflection on the families whose lives changed forever. Reflection on the heroes whose bravery continues to inspire generations.
The passage of time does not diminish the significance of September 11. If anything, it increases our responsibility to remember. A growing number of Americans were born after the attacks and have no personal memory of the events. The National September 11 Memorial & Museum has emphasized the importance of preserving the stories of loss, courage, compassion, and service for future generations so that the promise to “never forget” remains meaningful. Remembering is not about reliving tragedy. It is about honoring the humanity that emerged in its wake.
It is about remembering the office worker who helped a colleague down dozens of flights of stairs. It is about the passenger who made one final phone call to loved ones before confronting unimaginable danger. It is about the first responder who continued searching for survivors long after hope had faded. It is about the families who found the strength to carry on despite overwhelming loss.
Their stories teach us that courage is contagious. Compassion matters. Service matters. Community matters.
In a world that often feels divided, September 11 reminds us of a time when Americans stood together. Differences that normally separated people seemed insignificant in the face of shared grief and shared purpose. Neighbors helped neighbors. Communities rallied together. Strangers became family.
Those lessons remain relevant today.
As we observe another anniversary of September 11, may we remember the victims with dignity. May we honor the survivors with respect. May we thank the first responders, military personnel, medical professionals, volunteers, and countless others whose sacrifices demonstrated the very best of humanity.
And may we never lose sight of what they showed us: that even in our darkest hours, courage endures, compassion survives, and the human spirit remains stronger than fear.
Today, I remember those who were lost.
Today, I thank those who served.
And today, as I celebrate another year of my son’s life, I am reminded that remembrance and gratitude can exist side by side, honoring the past while appreciating the precious gift of the present.
John S. Collier, MSW, LCSW-S is the Executive Director of Southeast Kentucky Behavioral Health (SEKYBH) and a Licensed Clinical Social Worker Supervisor with extensive experience in behavioral health, community services, clinical leadership, and organizational development. Throughout his career, he has been dedicated to strengthening individuals, families, and communities through compassionate care, advocacy, and service.

As a behavioral health professional, John believes that some of life’s most difficult moments often reveal the resilience, courage, and humanity that connect us all. His writing frequently explores themes of hope, remembrance, personal reflection, and the enduring strength of the human spirit.
In this article, John’s reflections on September 11 are both historical and deeply personal. September 11, 2001, is not only a day of national remembrance, but also the day his son was born. This unique intersection of public tragedy and personal joy has shaped his perspective on gratitude, service, sacrifice, and the importance of honoring those whose lives and actions continue to inspire future generations.
When not leading organizational initiatives or advocating for improved behavioral health services across Kentucky, John enjoys writing articles, poetry, and community-focused content that encourages reflection, understanding, and meaningful human connection.
Author Contact
John S. Collier, MSW, LCSW-S
Executive Director
Southeast Kentucky Behavioral Health (SEKYBH)
London, Kentucky
“We honor the past not by dwelling in tragedy, but by remembering the lives, sacrifices, and lessons that continue to guide us forward.” – John S. Collier
National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States. (2004). The 9/11 Commission Report: Final Report of the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States. U.S. Government Printing Office. National September 11 Memorial & Museum. (2026). September 11, 2001 Historical Exhibition. Retrieved from the National September 11 Memorial & Museum. National September 11 Memorial & Museum. (2026). Marking the 25th Anniversary. Retrieved from the National September 11 Memorial & Museum. National September 11 Memorial & Museum. (2026). Homepage and Educational Resources. Retrieved from the National September 11 Memorial & Museum.
Have you ever looked back at a relationship and wondered why you can only remember the bad things? Maybe you were married for many years. Maybe you dated someone for a long time. Maybe the relationship ended recently, or maybe it ended years ago. You know there had to be some good times.
There were probably times when you laughed together. You may have taken trips, celebrated birthdays, watched movies, eaten dinner together, or stayed up late talking. There may have been hugs, kisses, jokes, holidays, and ordinary days when everything seemed okay. But now, when you think about the relationship, those memories seem far away. Instead, you remember the fights.
And you may wonder: Why can I remember everything that hurt me, but hardly remember anything good? There are several possible reasons. It does not always mean that every part of the relationship was bad. It may mean that the painful parts had a stronger effect on you. Understanding why this happens can help you understand your feelings, your memories, and yourself.
We sometimes think our memory works like a video camera. We believe our brain records everything that happens and stores it exactly the way it happened. But memory does not work that way. Our brains choose what information to notice, store, and remember. Feelings can affect this process. Stress, sadness, fear, anger, and other strong emotions can also change what we remember.
Research has shown that emotional problems can affect the way people remember events from their own lives (Williams et al., 2007). This is important when thinking about an old relationship. Imagine that you were with someone for ten years. During those ten years, you probably shared thousands of normal moments.
Most of these normal moments may not become strong memories. But imagine that during those ten years, your partner said something very cruel during an argument. That conversation may have lasted only five minutes. Yet you might remember those five minutes for the next twenty years.
Why?
Because those five minutes hurt. The brain may give more attention to something that feels important, dangerous, painful, or emotional. So a painful memory can become stronger than hundreds of normal memories.
The human brain is designed to notice danger. This helped human beings survive for thousands of years. Imagine a person walking through the woods long ago. They see beautiful flowers beside the trail. Later, they see a dangerous animal near the same trail. Which memory is more important for survival? The dangerous animal. Remembering the flowers would be nice. Remembering the danger could save their life. We are no longer living the same way our early ancestors did, but our brains still pay attention to things that feel dangerous.
In relationships, danger is not always physical. Sometimes it is emotional.
If these things happen often, your brain may begin paying close attention to them. Your mind may be trying to protect you. It may be saying: “Remember this so it does not happen again.”
Suppose you and your partner had a wonderful vacation. You laughed. You ate good food. You walked on the beach. You took pictures. You had fun. Years later, you may remember that it was a nice vacation, but many of the small details may disappear. Now imagine that on the last night of the vacation, you had a terrible argument. Your partner said something that broke your heart. Years later, you may have trouble remembering what you ate or where you went during the vacation. But you remember exactly where you were standing when those painful words were spoken.
You may even remember the person’s face. You may remember the room. You may remember what you were wearing. You may remember how your stomach felt. That does not mean the entire vacation was terrible. It means the painful moment had a strong emotional effect on you. Research shows that emotions can affect what we pay attention to and what we later remember (Williams et al., 2007).
How you feel today can sometimes affect what you remember about yesterday. For example, when you are angry with someone, it may be easier to remember other times that person made you angry. One memory can lead to another. You remember one lie. Then another. Then another. You remember one argument. Then you remember another argument from three years earlier. Soon your mind has created a long list of everything that person ever did wrong.
The positive memories may still exist. They may simply be harder to reach at that moment. Depression can also affect the way people remember their lives. Researchers have found a connection between depression and problems remembering clear, specific personal experiences (Sumner et al., 2010; Williams et al., 2007).
This does not mean painful memories are fake. It means our current emotions can affect which memories are easiest to find.
Sometimes we do something called rumination. Rumination means thinking about the same upsetting situation again and again. You might think:
Thinking about these questions once may help us understand what happened. Thinking about them hundreds of times may keep us stuck. Research has connected rumination with certain problems in autobiographical memory, which means memory about our own lives (Sumner, 2012).
Think about it this way. A happy event may have happened once. But you may have replayed a painful event in your mind 500 times. Each time you replay it, you give it more attention. That can make the memory easier to find.
Painful memories can also remain strong when something never felt finished.
Imagine that your partner hurt you.
You told them how you felt.
Over time, you began trusting them again. Now imagine something different. You may still remember what happened, but the memory now has an ending. Your partner hurt you. You tried talking about it. They denied it. They blamed you. They refused to talk about it. Nothing changed. Then the relationship ended. You may still be asking:
Your brain may keep returning to the memory because you never received an answer. But there is an important lesson here:
Sometimes closure does not come from the other person.
Sometimes you have to create your own closure.
You may never understand why someone treated you a certain way. Healing may begin when you realize you do not need every answer before you can move forward.
The way a relationship ends can change the way you remember the whole relationship. This can happen after cheating or another serious betrayal. Imagine discovering that your partner had been lying to you. Suddenly, you begin thinking about old memories differently. You look at an old vacation picture and wonder:
The memory itself has not changed. What changed is what you now know. New information can change the meaning of old memories. That can make even happy memories painful.
This can be difficult to admit. Sometimes being angry at someone feels easier than missing them. Anger can make us feel strong. Grief can make us feel weak and exposed. It may feel easier to say: “She was terrible to me.” than: “I loved her, and losing her broke my heart.”
It may feel easier to say: “He never cared about me.” than: “There were wonderful parts of our relationship, and I miss those parts.”
Both feelings can exist. You can love someone and be angry with them. You can miss someone and know you should not be together. You can forgive someone and still choose not to have them in your life. You can remember beautiful moments while also remembering terrible ones. You can admit: “I loved this person.” And also say: “This relationship was not healthy for me.” Both statements can be true.
People sometimes use the word trauma for every painful experience. Trauma is more complicated than that. A painful relationship can have a deep emotional effect without automatically causing post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. Research has found that traumatic experiences, depression, avoidance, rumination, and memory can be connected in complicated ways (Moore & Zoellner, 2007; Sumner, 2012).
Simply remembering bad things about an old relationship does not mean you have PTSD. However, professional help may be useful if memories are causing serious problems in your daily life. For example, you may want to talk with a qualified mental health professional if memories cause strong fear, nightmares, panic, major sleep problems, constant avoidance, or serious problems in current relationships.
Depression can affect more than how we feel today. It can affect how we look at yesterday. Research has found that people experiencing depression may have difficulty remembering clear and specific events from their lives (Sumner et al., 2010; Williams et al., 2007). Someone might say: “My whole marriage was terrible.” Maybe that is true. But another possibility should also be considered. Perhaps the marriage contained both good and bad experiences, but the painful memories are easier to reach right now.This is why it can help to slow down before making statements such as:
Those feelings deserve to be taken seriously. But feelings and memories should also be explored carefully.
Sometimes your mind keeps painful memories close because it wants to protect you. Imagine touching a hot stove. The pain teaches you something: Do not touch that again. Emotional pain can sometimes work in a similar way. Your brain remembers betrayal because it does not want you to be betrayed again. It remembers rejection because it wants you to notice warning signs. It remembers being controlled because it wants you to protect your freedom. It remembers being ignored because it wants you to choose someone who listens. The memory may be trying to teach you something. But there is a difference between learning from pain and living inside pain. A lesson can protect your future. Constantly replaying the hurt can steal your present.
After a painful breakup or divorce, people sometimes create one simple story about the relationship.
Sometimes those statements may describe someone’s true experience. But sometimes they are attempts to make a complicated relationship easier to understand. Relationships are often more complicated than “good” or “bad.” A person may have loved you and still hurt you. A person may have had good qualities and still been unhealthy for you. You may have made wonderful memories together and still needed to leave. You may have made mistakes too. Recognizing those things does not excuse harmful behavior. It simply allows you to tell yourself a more complete story.
This is one of the hardest lessons after a relationship ends: You do not have to turn someone into a terrible person before you are allowed to let them go. Maybe your former partner had good qualities. Maybe they loved you in the best way they knew how. Maybe you loved them. Maybe you shared wonderful years. And maybe the relationship still needed to end. Those ideas can exist together.
Healing does not require hating someone. Sometimes healing means seeing the whole person and the whole relationship clearly.
If you can only remember the bad things, try writing down the story of your relationship.
Do not decide whether it was good or bad.
Just tell the truth.
Ask yourself:
Ask yourself:
Ask yourself:
Be truthful. Maybe you miss their laugh. Maybe you miss Sunday mornings. Maybe you miss traveling together. Maybe you miss having someone beside you. Missing something does not mean you should go back. It simply means something mattered to you.
Write this down too. Maybe you no longer have to worry about arguments. Maybe you no longer feel controlled. Maybe you no longer wonder whether someone is lying. Maybe your home feels peaceful again. Recognize that freedom.
This may be the most important question. What did the relationship teach you about love? What did it teach you about communication? What did it teach you about trust? What did it teach you about boundaries? What did it teach you about yourself? What will you do differently in your next relationship?
When the same painful memory keeps coming back, ask yourself: “What does this memory mean to me?”
Maybe the memory is really about rejection. Maybe it is about feeling unwanted. Maybe it is about embarrassment. Maybe it is about being abandoned. Maybe it is about feeling like you were not good enough. Maybe it is about losing trust. Sometimes the event is over, but the message you took from the event is still hurting you.
For example, your partner may have left you. That is what happened. But you may have told yourself: “They left because I am not worth loving.” That is an interpretation. Those are not the same thing. Someone leaving you does not prove that you are unlovable. Someone cheating does not prove that you were not good enough. Someone rejecting you does not decide your value. Understanding the difference between what happened and what you decided it meant about you can be an important part of healing.
People sometimes become afraid of good memories. They think: “If I remember the good times, maybe I will want them back.” Not necessarily. Remembering is not returning. Forgiving is not forgetting. Understanding is not excusing. You can remember a wonderful Christmas together without wanting another Christmas together.
You can remember laughing on vacation without forgetting the pain that came later. You can remember being in love without believing the relationship should have lasted forever. The memory belongs to you. You do not have to destroy every good memory just because the relationship ended badly.
Healing does not mean pretending bad things never happened. It also does not mean forcing yourself to think positively. The goal is to remember the whole story. You might eventually be able to say: “We had good times.” “We had bad times.” “I loved this person.”
That is a much stronger story than simply saying:
“Everything was terrible.”
If all you can remember about a relationship is the negative things, do not immediately assume something is wrong with you. Your memories may be showing you where you were hurt. They may be showing you what still needs attention. They may be reminding you of something you never understood. They may be connected to anger, sadness, grief, depression, rumination, or unresolved questions. Or your memories may simply be telling you that certain experiences affected you much more deeply than you realized at the time.
Do not force yourself to remember good things. Instead, become curious about the memories that remain.
Ask:
And finally:
What do I want to carry forward, and what am I ready to leave behind?
Healing does not mean erasing your past. It means reaching a place where your past no longer controls your present. You can remember the hurt without living in it. You can remember the love without returning to it. You can remember the mistakes without allowing them to define you. And one day, instead of thinking only about everything that went wrong, you may be able to look back and say: “Some of it was beautiful. Some of it was painful. All of it taught me something. But it is no longer where I live.”
John S. Collier, MSW, LCSW-S

John S. Collier is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker with professional experience in behavioral health, counseling, mental health services, and helping individuals and families work through difficult life experiences.
His work focuses on helping people better understand the connection between thoughts, emotions, behaviors, relationships, and personal experiences. He has a particular interest in presenting mental health information in a way that ordinary people can understand and use in their daily lives.
Rather than treating emotional struggles as complicated ideas that can only be understood by professionals, John believes people can benefit from learning why they think, feel, and behave the way they do. Understanding does not remove every painful experience, but it can give people tools for responding to those experiences in healthier ways.
His writing often explores relationships, depression, anxiety, trauma, grief, personal growth, family relationships, communication, emotional healing, faith, and the challenges people face during major life changes.
John’s approach emphasizes an important idea: a person’s past can help explain where they are today without having to determine where they will be tomorrow.
Through education, reflection, and practical mental health tools, his goal is to help readers better understand themselves, recognize unhealthy patterns, build stronger relationships, develop healthy boundaries, and move toward greater emotional well-being.
Moore, S. A., & Zoellner, L. A. (2007). Overgeneral autobiographical memory and traumatic events: An evaluative review. Psychological Bulletin, 133(3), 419–437. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-2909.133.3.419
Sumner, J. A. (2012). The mechanisms underlying overgeneral autobiographical memory: An evaluative review of evidence for the CaR-FA-X model. Clinical Psychology Review, 32(1), 34–48. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2011.10.003
Sumner, J. A., Griffith, J. W., & Mineka, S. (2010). Overgeneral autobiographical memory as a predictor of the course of depression: A meta-analysis. Behaviour Research and Therapy, 48(7), 614–625. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.brat.2010.03.013
Williams, J. M. G., Barnhofer, T., Crane, C., Hermans, D., Raes, F., Watkins, E., & Dalgleish, T. (2007). Autobiographical memory specificity and emotional disorder. Psychological Bulletin, 133(1), 122–148. https://doi.org/10.1037/0033-2909.133.1.122
Educational Disclaimer: This article is for educational purposes and is not intended to diagnose or treat any mental health condition. People experiencing significant emotional distress or difficulty functioning should consider speaking with a qualified mental health professional.