06 Aug 2026
It’s OK To Say founder and CEO Stacey Turner, considers the life and times of the city’s many public benches…
I found myself wondering recently… If the benches of St Albans could talk, what stories would they tell?
Not the Cathedral. Not the Clock Tower. Not even the market.
The benches.
Those quiet observers who ask for nothing in return, yet quietly witness thousands of lives unfolding every single day.
And perhaps some of them carry stories before anyone has even sat down.
Because some benches have been named after people. People who were loved. People who made a difference. People whose memories continue to have a place within our community.
A simple name engraved into a bench can hold so much meaning. A reminder that someone’s life mattered. That their story continues.
That even in their absence, they remain part of the places and people they helped shape.a
And perhaps that is the quiet beauty of a bench.
It is both a place where stories happen and, sometimes, a story itself.
Some sit proudly in Verulamium Park, watching children run, dogs chase after balls, friends catch up, and families make memories.
Some sit outside the museum, where history surrounds them and generations of visitors pause for a moment.
Perhaps they’ve held conversations about what people have discovered inside, grandparents sharing stories with grandchildren, visitors taking a rest after exploring the city’s past, or locals simply enjoying a quiet moment in a familiar place.
Because while the museum preserves the stories of those who came before us, the benches quietly hold the stories being created every day.
Every person who sits there becomes part of the ongoing story of St Albans.
Some sit outside cafés, holding takeaway coffees, shopping bags and conversations that somehow last much longer than anyone expected.
Others sit quietly along our streets, offering a place to pause for those who need a moment before carrying on with their day.
Every one of those benches has a story. Actually… Thousands of them. They’ve watched people fall in love. They’ve witnessed friendships grow. They’ve held conversations that changed lives. They’ve seen celebrations. They’ve seen moments of uncertainty. They’ve held people during times of grief.
And they’ve offered a place for someone to simply sit. And perhaps that is what makes them so special.
A bench doesn’t ask questions.
It doesn’t judge.
It doesn’t expect us to explain ourselves.
It simply offers a place to be.
In a world where we are constantly encouraged to keep moving, keep achieving and keep going, perhaps a bench reminds us of something we often forget.
Sometimes we need to stop.
Because mental health and wellbeing isn’t always found in the big moments. Sometimes it’s found in the quieter ones.
The moments we allow ourselves to simply be.
In the fresh air. In watching the world go by. In noticing the seasons change. In listening to birdsong we hadn’t heard before. In feeling the warmth of a coffee between our hands.
In sitting beside someone without needing to fill every silence.
Or simply giving ourselves permission to take five minutes.
Perhaps that’s why benches have quietly supported our wellbeing for generations without us even realising it.
They have held tears after difficult phone calls. Laughter between old friends. Quiet moments of reflection. Times of grief. Times of hope.
Moments where someone finally admitted they weren’t okay.
And moments where someone realised they would be.
At It’s OK To Say, we often talk about creating safe spaces.
Maybe that’s because healing has never really been about four walls.
Sometimes it’s a counselling room.
Sometimes it’s a kitchen table.
Sometimes it’s a walk with a friend.
Sometimes it’s a conversation over coffee.
And sometimes… It’s simply a bench.
A quiet place where the world slows down long enough for us to catch our breath.
Perhaps that’s the thing I love most about benches. They remind us that connection doesn’t always have to come through grand gestures.
Sometimes it comes through sharing space. Offering presence.
Recognising that even the smallest pauses can make a difference.
A smile from a stranger. A conversation with someone we haven’t seen for a while. A moment where someone feels noticed. A reminder that, even in a busy world, we are not alone.
So the next time you walk past an empty bench in St Albans, perhaps don’t rush by. Sit down. Take a breath. Watch the world for five minutes. Notice the people passing by. Notice the small moments happening around you.
You never know… It might be exactly the pause you didn’t realise you needed.
And perhaps the benches of St Albans have been quietly looking after our wellbeing all along.
If you’ve been affected by any of the themes or experiences shared in this article, please don’t hesitate to reach out to It’s OK To Say. We’re always here for you. You matter. Mental health matters.
