What I Wish I Knew About Mental Health at Thirteen

 At thirteen, I thought mental health just meant not being sad. If you weren’t crying, if you weren’t having a breakdown, if you were showing up to school and getting your work done, then you were fine. That’s what I believed. But now I know it’s not that simple.

Mental health isn’t just about whether you feel okay or not. It’s about how you speak to yourself. It’s about how you handle stress. It’s about how safe you feel in your own body, in your own mind, in your own skin. It’s about whether you feel like you’re allowed to take a break or ask for help without feeling guilty or weak.

When I was younger, I thought being strong meant bottling things up. I thought it meant pushing through no matter how tired or overwhelmed I was. I thought asking for space made you selfish. I thought admitting you were struggling meant you weren’t trying hard enough. But now I know that strength can look like taking a step back. It can look like setting a boundary. It can look like choosing not to pretend when you’re not okay.

I wish I knew that anxiety doesn’t always look like panic. Sometimes it looks like overthinking everything. Being scared of doing the wrong thing. Feeling tired but not knowing why. I wish I knew that depression doesn’t always look like tears. Sometimes it looks like numbness. Like losing interest in things you used to love. Like smiling while silently falling apart.

I wish I knew that healing isn’t linear. There are good days and hard days. Days when you feel light again and days when the weight comes back. That doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re human. And I wish I knew that it’s okay to not always be okay.

I also wish I knew how powerful small things can be. Drinking water. Going outside. Getting enough sleep. Saying no when something doesn’t feel right. Talking to someone you trust. Taking time to breathe. These things matter. They add up. They’re not weak or silly or unimportant. They’re how you take care of yourself when everything feels like too much.

If I could go back and tell my younger self one thing, it would be this: your feelings are valid. Your mental health matters. You are not a burden. You don’t have to earn rest. And you’re not alone, even when it feels like it.

Mental health is not something you fix once and forget about. It’s something you learn to work with. Something you grow with. And the sooner we start treating it with the same care and respect as physical health, the better we’ll all be.