These days, everyone talks about the importance of mental health. But I’ll be honest—I didn’t know how to take care of mine for a long time. I carried it all inside, telling myself, “You can handle this.” And yet, deep down, I wished someone would see that I wasn’t okay. Why is it still so hard to say, “I need help”? And why does asking sometimes feel even harder than the struggle itself?
I used to tell myself for years: “Just keep it together.” At work, at home, with friends. So I kept pushing through, being the one who had it all under control. The one who figured everything out. But one day, I hit a wall. I started feeling exhausted. Unmotivated. I would wake up in the morning and just wish for some peace. Instead of giving myself that space, I put on the “everything is fine” mask and kept pushing forward—until I couldn’t anymore.
Maybe you know the feeling. You keep going, even when you’ve been running on empty for ages. And then one day, you just can’t anymore.
For me, relief came from a simple sentence I finally said to a friend: “I don’t feel okay. Can I talk to you?” And suddenly, I felt lighter. Maybe for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t pretending. That’s when I realized how much I had been bottling up inside.
Even though mental health is openly discussed nowadays, deep down, there’s still this belief that “not handling something” means weakness. Maybe it’s something we were taught growing up. Maybe it’s just the pressure we put on ourselves. But I felt it for a long time.
"Don’t complain. Don’t cry. Just deal with it."
So I did—until I couldn’t anymore.
Now I know that saying, “I’m not okay,” isn’t weakness. It’s a step back to myself. I’m still learning to embrace the moments when I don’t feel strong.
I started going to therapy. I talk to people who truly see me and support me. I allow myself to feel—even when it means being vulnerable.
On days when everything feels overwhelming, this helps me:
It’s my anchor. A reminder that I’m not alone.
I won’t pretend I’ve figured it all out. Life is a constant lesson. But now I know that asking for help doesn’t make me weak. And that I don’t have to force my way through everything. Maybe, the moment we allow ourselves to slow down and open up, we start finding our way back to ourselves.
With love, I’m sharing my personal affirmations—gentle reminders to myself: