Back in high school, I got caught smoking with friends. We were just a few weeks away from graduation, feeling like we ruled the world. Then a knock on the car window made everything come crashing down.

The principal sent us home. Our parents had to pick us up. My punishment? I was suspended from the volleyball team and had to attend three therapy sessions with the school social worker. At the time, I thought, “Therapy? What did I do that’s so horrible?” I was scared and unsure of what to expect.
Looking back, those sessions were a turning point for me. They became my first real introduction to therapy. I was able to talk about my feelings and the chaos at home without fear of judgment. We didn’t focus much on the smoking. Instead, she quickly understood that my actions were signs of deeper struggles.
Inspired by my experience, I pursued psychology in college to help others facing similar challenges. On the first day of class, we had an icebreaker. My professor asked us to share about someone who had supported us during tough times. I panicked; I couldn’t think of anyone.
As I felt the pressure mount, I recalled that social worker who had helped me. I shared my story instead of fleeing, and it felt like a victory.
But my mental health journey didn’t improve right away. Throughout college, I struggled. I found another therapist, but they didn’t understand trauma and only made me feel worse. Their advice to “just move on” didn’t resonate with me. I began to believe I was the problem.
Frustrated and alone, I jumped from one relationship to another, trying to fill the emptiness inside. When that didn’t work, I turned to food—cookies, chips, anything sugary. My therapist saw just a lack of willpower and didn’t address the deeper issues.
Then I remembered my high school social worker, who had made a difference in my life. I wanted to be the supportive figure for others that I had once needed. That realization sparked my desire to become a therapist.
Talking about mental health has become more acceptable in recent years. While we’re starting to break the stigma, discussing trauma in family or relationship contexts still feels taboo. It’s easier to acknowledge trauma if it seems like a solo struggle rather than one connected to others.
Therapy is seen as less shameful now compared to previous generations, but groups like the LGBTQ community and people of color still face stigma1,2,4. Efforts to normalize mental health care have grown. Awareness campaigns and media portrayals have taken steps to change how we talk about these issues.
Social media has played a big part too. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok allow therapists to connect directly with people. Younger generations are more aware of mental health and more willing to seek help1. By sharing personal stories and expert insights, social media has made discussing anxiety, depression, and ADHD more common.
Despite the progress, challenges still exist. Some still experience bias in healthcare. While issues like anxiety and depression are regularly discussed, talking about trauma or family dynamics might still be met with judgment2,3.
Many people might unknowingly carry trauma. We live in a world filled with traumatic events, and sometimes, the impact is hard to see. That’s a part of the cycle of unhealed trauma we need to address.
I hope we can foster conversations that aren’t about blame but about understanding and awareness for everyone.
Excerpted, in part, from my book Breaking the Cycle: The 6 Stages of Healing from Childhood Family Trauma.
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