Activity
-
amazinglexi submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks agoSunshine mixed with hurricane
Alexis RiesDear Lexi.
You have been through so much. You feel like giving up and all hope is lost. The time that friend betrayed you. Or the time that teacher discouraged you from your dreams. Even more so, that time that boss beat on you until you felt empty inside. It all made you feel defeated, distant, hurt, upset, and every other emotion one could imagine. The thoughts that would go through your head felt never ending.
But let me be the first to tell you, these tough times are not forever. The times of grief and pain that others cause is not what is forever in store for you. There is a greater, brighter journey waiting for you on a different path. You just have to hang on a little longer. Don’t let the rope break between your fingers, because there is so much more out there for you.
Ignore all the hard times you have been through and listen to that voice that keeps saying: your journey has just begun. Do me a favor. Try to remember that this pain and this grief, are all pointing you in a direction of success. Of confidence. It is building your personality. That may be hard to believe right now, but trust me it is. It is helping you learn who you want to be. A strong independent leader with so much to give to this world.
Remember that time you got a 100 on the test? You proved you were enough. Remember that time your teacher loved the color you used in your art and how realistic your piece became? You were enough. Remember that time you pixie dusted the little boy just to see his smile? You were enough.
That is just the beginning. Layer one of the onion that’s being peeled.
Now. Repeat after me. I am enough. I will get through this. I am the sunshine mixed with a little hurricane. I am enough. I will get through this. I am the sunshine mixed with a little hurricane. I am enough.
Before you know it you’ll be nothing but a fearless, determined, bright, woman ready to tackle everything that’s thrown towards you no matter what path you’re on. The key is to remember you are enough.
I’m so proud of you, Lexi. Never stop smiling and never stop chasing the stars. Great things are in store for you young lady.
~ your future self.
Voting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
Alexis, I am so sorry that people you respect have treated you so poorly. I know it hurts. I also know that when employers or teachers or others in authority use language that belittles or discourages you, they didn’t do their job. That is in no way a reflection on your potential, or if you are good enough. We can only be who we are in the moment,…read more
-
-
ceplin submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 1 days agoToo Much
Dear Me,
I see you—sitting in the quiet aftermath of a life you didn’t plan, heart cracked wide open, memories flooding the spaces where your dreams used to be. You were never not enough. You were so much—so full of love, hope, tenderness, and vision that the world didn’t always know what to do with you.
After your first divorce, you felt like you’d let everyone down—your family, your friends, your child, yourself. The story you’d written in your head was filled with pancakes on Sunday, slow dancing in the kitchen, candlelit baths, and spontaneous adventures. But the pages turned too fast, the ink blurred, and the best friend you married and thoughts of forever slowly disappeared into the shadows of disappointment. You left that chapter unfinished and blamed yourself for walking away too soon. Maybe you did. Or maybe you were just brave enough to acknowledge that love, no matter how deep, can’t survive on wishes and memories.
And then came the second chance—a love that dazzled you with its devotion. He adored you. He made you feel chosen. Another son, another beginning, and you told yourself this time it would work. But slowly, the walls closed in. You couldn’t breathe. You weren’t craving someone else—you were craving yourself. Your freedom. Your thoughts. Your wild spirit that always longed to gallop, like a wild horse, through the open fields of possibility. You weren’t selfish. You were seeking air, peace, and truth.
It wasn’t that you thought you weren’t enough.
It was that somewhere along the way, you feared you were too much—too dreamy, too idealistic, too hungry for a love that felt like home and adventure at once. You wanted what your parents gave you: consistency with laughter, boundaries with warmth. You wanted romance with room to exhale. A soft place to land that didn’t also become a cage.
Was it too much to want all of that? Maybe. But that doesn’t make you too much.
You wanted the fairytale, not for the glitter, but for the grounding. You wanted your children to grow up in the kind of home you were lucky to have. Yet, you wanted the white picket fence, the golden retriever, and images from your brain that don’t always equate to love and happiness.
And when things fell apart—twice—you didn’t mourn the loss of a man as much as you mourned the certainty you wanted to give your sons. You blamed yourself. You gained weight. You buried your regrets. You stopped saying some things out loud because others didn’t understand and they hurt too much to name.
But here you are.
Still standing.
Still giving.
Still loving.
Still becoming.
You didn’t fail your children. You showed them resilience. You showed them the cost of truth, the courage of reinvention, and the power of choosing peace. You never stopped being their mother. In fact, you became an even braver one.
And you?
You are enough.
You were always enough.
And you’re not too much—you’re just enough to fill the life that was meant to be yours.
Keep going. You are not broken. You are becoming.
With all the love you never stopped deserving,
Me
Voting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
abagail_tamblin submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 2 days agoDearest Little Old Me
Dearest Little Old Me,
Since I know you never heard this as much as you should have, I want you to know that you were enough. You were always enough.
You were enough at 5 years old when you first met your shadow of anxiety.
You were enough at 10 when your body was being ridiculed as it was changing beyond your control.
You were enough at 13 when the world around you was falling apart and nothing made sense.
You were enough at 16 when you started seeking a glimpse of freedom.
You were enough at 18 when you sacrificed your freedom for what you thought was love.
You were enough at 21 when your friends disappeared and you had to find companionship within yourself.
You were enough at 25 when you felt lost and had given up all hope.
I wish more than anything that the version of you I am now could have given you a mere morsel of hope for the future you would someday have because I know there was so many times it seemed as if your whole world was ridden with despair.
I know how long you lived in a world with an overcast, never given a ray of sunshine long enough to make anything of it.
I know the weight you carried as a child and how that heaviness tries to anchor you in the past.
I know that you were not always dealt cards worth playing, seemingly doomed no matter what move you made.
But…
Every move you made with each card you were dealt guided you to me, who you are now.
You have realized that anxiety does not hold you back unless you allow it to.
You now can seek the validation you need within yourself and do not question if you are worthy.
You now understand your body is capable of incredible things.
You no longer sacrifice freedom for love because the love of your life has gifted you with the freedom to be yourself, unapologetically.
You now see that being your own friend is an advantage and not pitiful.
And you are now able to uncover fragments of hope, even in the darkest of days.
While I hope in reading this you’ve found some comfort, the most important thing you must understand is this:
You were always enough on your own.
You never needed to be any more than what you already were, what you wanted to be.
You were and will always be more than enough.
Please remember that.
Love, Yourself.
Voting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
lotust submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 2 days agoLove Me
LotusTHey you! yes you!
The girl in the dark with trembling hands.
Who never believed she’d one day stand.
Who looked at her reflection and turned away,
Thinking, “No one could love this mess anyway.”You wore your silence like second skin,
Screaming inside, too afraid to begin.
You broke in secret, stitched with fear,
Hoping no one would see you here.You begged for crumbs and called it a feast,
Let pain lay beside you and never released.
You gave away pieces to feel some worth,
But lost more of you with every hurt.I see you now…
Sitting on bathroom floors, knees to your chest,
Whispering, “I ruin everything I touch at best.”
You hated your past, you hated your name,
But girl, you were never the one to blame.They lied.
You were never too much.
You were never not enough.
You were fired at while under pressure, a diamond in the rough.
You were the scream that never got loud,
The warrior wrapped in a funeral shroud.But listen to me—
You didn’t die there. You rose.
With scraped-up knees and tear-stained clothes.
You birthed a life from broken bone,
You turned a motel room into a loving home.You let go of poison, picked up a crown,
Watched dead-end roads start turning around.
You love a man who’s been through war,
And you mother a child you’d die for.So to the girl who thought she’d never heal,
Who wondered if anything she felt was real…
Look around.
You built this life. You clawed from the pit.
And God? He never gave up on you not one bit.You are worthy. You are made of so much more.
You are what you fought for.
So I write to you with shaking hands,
To say, “You made it… just as God had always planned.”And I promise you now with breath and grace,
Your story will never be a thing to erase.
You’re not just enough—
You’re the reason I’m still here.
I love you forever,
Through every scar, every tear.Love,
Me — The Woman You Fought to BecomeVoting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
altarsofabsence submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 3 days agoLetter to the Me Who Thought She Wasn’t Enough
Elva GarciaI see you, caught between the labels “gifted” and “needs help,” moved from advanced classes to remedial ones, like the system couldn’t quite decide who you were. One moment you’re praised for your potential, and the next you’re pulled out of class, eyes burning with shame as you wonder what you did wrong. You live in a constant state of confusion—too smart to be struggling, but struggling too much to feel smart.
People keep telling you to focus, to try harder, to pay attention. They don’t see how hard you already work, how long you study, or how much effort it takes just to keep up. It feels like no matter what you do, you fall behind. Then you take that college test, certain you’ve passed this time. You walk out proud. When the email arrives with the same failing grade, you don’t just feel disappointed. You feel defeated.
For years, you believed the problem was you.
Everything shifts when you finally sit in a quiet testing room, hoping for answers. When the results come back, you cry. You cry because someone finally sees what you’ve known all along but couldn’t name. You have a learning disability. Dyscalculia. A comprehension disorder. There’s relief in knowing it isn’t your fault. But the diagnosis feels heavy, too, because there is no cure. This is how your brain works, and it always will. There’s no fixing it, only learning how to manage it.
Still, knowing is powerful. Understanding your brain lets you begin to build a life that fits. You ask questions, even if you need to ask more than once. You double-check instructions, reread numbers, and take your time. You stop apologizing for needing clarity. You begin to respect the way you learn.
School becomes possible. You start with a certificate, believing that’s all you’re capable of. Then you keep going and earn an associate’s degree. That success gives you the confidence to keep reaching. Now, you’re back in school again, working toward your bachelor’s. The journey is slow, and sometimes it’s still hard, but it’s yours. And you’re doing it.
I wish more people had seen you clearly. Some teachers tried. Most didn’t understand. They looked at your behavior, not your processing. They saw your mistakes, not the bravery it took to keep showing up.
But you showed up. Again and again. You kept learning. You kept trying. You kept asking to be seen in a world that never made room for how your mind works.
That persistence is intelligence. That resilience is a strength. That courage is enough.
And you were always enough, even when no one told you.
With love,
MeStyle Score 75%
Voting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
anoukha_metangmo submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 3 days agoThis post is viewable by the Unsealed community only.
-
straudt submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 3 days agoThe power of being you
Samantha TraudtSami,
If only you could get a glimpse into the future to see everything you are and everything you are becoming. I don’t think you would feel the same way about yourself as you do now.
I know you look at others with admiration, as if you aren’t admirable yourself. I know you compare your body and your personality to those around you, wondering why you don’t look or act like them. You see girls hitting puberty while your chest remains flat and adolescent. Girls are getting boyfriends and you wonder why nobody wants to be with you. The class clown makes everyone laugh and although you have so much humor inside of your head, you are too afraid to let it out. You tell yourself year after year that you’ll go into school and be the person you picture yourself to be in your mind, but the insecurities, doubt, and anxiety keep you silent. You find one person who makes you feel seen and you let that be enough because you don’t feel deserving of more.
You want to know what I see in you? I see a fierce little girl who knows exactly what she wants, regardless of what the world tells her to be. You have fire, passion, and resilience within your blood, allowing you to keep going day after day. There is discipline that keeps you focused on a goal and focused on accomplishing. Although you yearn for a love that you have convinced yourself you are seeing at such a young age, there is something inside of you that knows you deserve more. A little voice within your soul that you follow, even when your brain is much louder. You can feel authenticity in moments and people, and what I see in you is someone who refuses to be anything other than that; authentic. You convince yourself you need to change in order to be better or enough, and when it doesn’t happen you feel disappointed and ashamed, but I see someone who literally cannot be anything other than herself. That is pretty admirable if you ask me.
You make decisions that align with your heart, while others let the world around them influence what they want. You understand the role your past plays and that allows you to make such a deep connection to those you let in. A kind of understanding and empathy most can’t fathom. There is something about you that makes someone feel so seen, yet you refuse to truly see yourself.
These years of feeling unwanted, ashamed, and insecure won’t last forever. It is these very years that will shape you into such a badass woman who is so determined to find a genuine love, that she will fall completely in love with herself and everything she is. A woman that has found so much power in being herself that there is nobody else she admires to be anymore.
You have always been enough, Sami, and you are the only one who needs to believe it.
Voting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
frmyourstohis submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 4 days agoFrom Worthwhile
Dear Worthless,
I call you worthless because that’s what you think you are even if your identity is more complex and intertwined with more love than your trauma originally reflected. You may not see love through the voice of your mother or the actions of your father but within your journey you aren’t walking aimlessly. Your purpose has passion that radiates in rooms where you overlooked the eyes that were mesmerized by your creation. Your writing has a voice of its own that grasps deeper into this world than the hands of demons that blindfolded you from the source of light within your patterned mind. Pause and believe the frequent occurrences when a kind stranger comments on your eyes. Their name is foreign but their impact is familiar. You will wake up and realize how those strangers became love that made you their home. Yes, you have become the home for others while you were searching for your own. You have ignited a safe space in growth accelerated by your faith. You have changed the meaning of chosen, the meaning of anointed, the meaning of blessed. The scars on your arms no longer embody distress. Compromised boundaries have been removed from your portion. Power has elevated in your energy. “They” didn’t love you and even today “they” still don’t. But “we” do. You are worthwhile. You are winds that steal breathes, tears that give rest, catalyst that curated comfort.
Sincerely,
Worthwhile
Voting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
Cortney Kipfmiller valle shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 weeks, 5 days agoOvercoming anxiety and depression
Cortney kipfmiller valle earth AngelHello there sunshines, I am here with some great news you can naturally overcome depression and anxiety. The bible teaches us how to naturally balance the positive and negative emotions in our lives. It’s ok at the darkest moments In Our lives to go to the doctor and get the help needed at that moment, he made doctors for a reason. What’s not okay is to rely on that medication to fix al of your childhood and adult relationship traumas. God has walked me through deliverance and a Beautiful way to enjoy life, focus on self love and hear his voice and tune out the world. Here are some tips on how to live life to the best of your ability on a budget. First find a job that u enjoy not have to show up to everyday ,but want to show up to and take pride in your work daily. Second find an area where just u and God can bear each other’s voices. God showed me and my sister in Christ this past year so many ways to see and appreciate his beauty from door dashing, in multi states ,to visiting museums and botanical gardens, to Learning about plants animals and history and it was a great stress reliever. Everyday for the past year doordash paid for our museum trips ,air b and b , and food and gas as we traveled America. We stayed in the tri state area and everything was within four hours of home.Our daily budget for spending was 20.00 most of the time it ended up under that price range. The third thing God helped me with to not be stressed and depressed was laying all of life’s problems at his feet and he gives us rest as it states in scripture. Picture yourself with one carryon bag then another suitcase and before u know it your carrying the entire planes luggage. This analogy is our lives we tend to worry and fear and pickup baggage that doesn’t belong to us. Cast your cares upon him and he will give u rest Amen. The fourth way to get rid of anxiety and depression is by using sensory things from your environment. This consist of smelling hearing seeing tasting and touching. I find for me nature walks running waterfalls and rivers,coloring on sidewalks with chalk, photographing nature and just being youself in general, traveling to local places, interacting with animals both tame and wild, and social distancing when needed work best. When noises around us are loud and overbearing putting on headphones and listening to something encouraging helps. Get in the habit of finding the daily verse that speaks life and encouragement into your soul and live out your purpose, 💓 u are loved I pray this helps the mass numbers and you can get peace in your hearts and enjoy your life much love and light 🕯️
-
I love all this advice! It is so true. Lean into the people, place and situations that make you feel, loved, passionate, calm of joyful. I hope you continue on your healing journey and continue to find ways to soak up all the joy life has to offer. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. <3 Lauren
-
-
isaacisme submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to the you that didn’t think they were enough 3 weeks, 5 days agoGood enough ??
Isaac is meDear younger me , I understand now that it wasn’t personal. My father’s love felt performative, meaning if i did not get good grades I felt like he did not love me. I get it education is important, but him criticizing me did not help me one bit. It lowered my self confidence, but that is how he grew up, I suppose, and he did not have the mental and emotional capacity to change. As i got older and started getting exposure to how people actually communicate, i can see my confidence rise. All those dark times in my room ruminated about the pass now i look at the past as a lesson, not a life sentence. No longer dwelling or hyper focusing on what happened but being present with loved ones who loved me when i was not feeling lovable. Closed off emotionally, i did not even know how to show love to those who loved me until recently. I felt it but couldn’t express it, or perhaps I feared it wouldn’t be reciprocated. Often times thought about what if i ran away then the voice of the higher power said not today? Started practicing gratitude and it changed my attitude, no longer seeing life with my victim mentality views. The pain has been melting away for the longest time i suffered with shame but now i find a different way to cope with the highs and lows. Pouring into myself and it feels good, you see. A lesson for anyone with similar upbringing to me, “others’ perception of you, has nothing to do with me”.
Sincerely the person you prayed for to be one day
Voting starts August 21, 2025 12:00am
-
Maddie McCoy shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 weeks, 6 days agoAn Open Letter to God
MaddieDear Lord,
We’ve had a lot of talks lately. Some good, some not so good. I’ve prayed for a couple ambulances and high schoolers and the parents for the infants at my school.
I’ve prayed for less anger, more sleep, less anxiety about the world. For the United States, for Gaza, for Syria and Lebanon and Yemen and the Congo…
For guidance.
I’m not the best of Jews, I know that. I don’t eat kosher like I should, I often forget my nightly prayers, I work on the sabbath. I know I’m not the best.
I try. I fast and I repent and I want to learn more about you Lord. I feel like the older I get, that I feel closer to you. I pray to you in good and in bad times. Our relationship has its valleys and mountains but I know you better. You’ve always known me though.
There’s a lot of suffering in the world. Time is marching backwards underneath my feet and I feel like I cannot make the world stand still. Or continue the original path or rotation. I pray in the hopes that you will be able to guide the right people to the right paths soon. Existence is a form of resistance, right?
Poetry feels a lot like prayer. I take a pen to my carotid artery and bleed all over these little letters, in hopes that it will string together coherent words. Using a young language to spill these feelings that I’m not quite sure have names. I pour it all out, I step back, and realize the feeling is duller now that it’s no longer in me.
That’s what prayer feels like to me.
I don’t know why, Lord, you made me this way. I know there must be a reason, there’s always a reason but I cannot see it. And I want to see it. I know you don’t make mistakes but— why do I feel like I am one?
I don’t feel like a good sister, a good friend, a good daughter, a good lover. I feel like I’m selfish. Spoiled. I demand too much. Give too little. A hypocrite. A liar.
Sometimes I don’t feel human. I’m so angry sometimes, Lord, that I just want to scream!!
Sometimes I just wanna grab someone and slap the living shit out of them. I wanna make someone feel as horrible as I do. I want them to feel every punch, kick, stab, slice, grope and rape that I have experienced. Then I feel horrible for wishing this fate on a nonexistent person and I pray for forgiveness. I know it’s an intrusive thought, I know I’d never do such a thing. But it kills me when I think about it.
There are times that I wanna go into an empty field and just scream into it. Sob as hard as I want for as long as I want. No one to eavesdrop, no one to watch. Just lose it fully for once.
I need that.
I’ve prayed to you about some things that I didn’t mean. I prayed to die many times. I know you know I didn’t mean that, which is why I’m still here.
I’ve prayed why my boyfriend doesn’t love me. I know he does, I just wish I could feel it like I know it. He adores me. He loves me. I need a little help remembering that Lord. If you have the time to spare, I’d greatly appreciate that.
I think- I think I struggle to believe I can be loved. Years of hurt can do that to a person. I try so hard to make sure those I love never feel the way I felt. Unlovable. Broken. No longer human. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a relationship outside of my childhood best friends that made me feel like a person.
When my boyfriend and I started dating it felt like someone had reignited a previously stamped out candle. Now the wick is burning but there’s no wax to cling to. I am so fucking lonely G-d. If you ever have a spare moment, enter my dreams and remind me that I am not alone. Remind me of my partner, my brother, my friends. Remind me of the job I love, the life I’ve chosen, the skills I possess. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than me, but I’d like to not be forgotten. Don’t forget to remember me in that whirlwind of human chaos you’ve come to know.
I know that I just have to grit and bear some of it like a big girl. I know that I have to fight. But I— I don’t have a lot of fight in me right now.
So Lord, if you could do this for me, I’d greatly appreciate it. If you could instill in me the need to fight, the need to claw my way out, I will claw my way out.
Amen,
-
Aww Maddie. You are loved and you are sooo lovable. You are not selfish. You are supposed to put yourself first. That’s healthy and part of self-care. You are a wonderful sister, partner etc. I know this just based on the simple fact that you are thinking about it in the first place. I want to give you the biggest hug. Also, if you want to go out…read more
-
-
kiki pape shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 months agoHot Girls Have Anxiety: The Mentally-Ill Girl Aesthetic How Internet Feminism Turned Internalized Pain into a Marketable Aesthetic
kiki papeIt’s okay not to be okay.
This phrase, now ubiquitous across social media, has become a comfortable mantra for those who struggle with mental health. It seems like a sweet reminder, a gentle nudge to embrace our imperfections and struggles. But in reality, it is much darker–an empty catchphrase hacked by an influencer-driven culture that profits off emotional labor and personal trauma. The rise of the Mentally Ill Girl aesthetic” has transformed mental health struggles from personal battles into visual trends, “personality trait quizzes” to talk about with friends, and worse, marketable commodities. This essay will explore the rise of the “mentally ill girl aesthetic” and the way it reflects the troubling commodification of mental health in the age of social media. What started as an expression of vulnerability has been twisted into a performative, profit-driven identity–one that trivializes mental illness, turning real pain into an aesthetic to be consumed.
My first personal introduction to mental health came when I was sixteen, during a moment that still feels absurd in retrospect. At my high school, the same girl who once whispered insults behind people’s backs was suddenly leading a campaign for “mental health awareness.” They filmed a promotional video–reminiscent of Mean Girls– for a schoolwide “mental health week,” complete with Pinterest-worthy quotes, trendy but shallow self-care advice, and mindfulness tips pulled from the first page of Google. What was meant to be a safe, inclusive space felt like a performance. Surrounded by classmates who suddenly wore their trauma like their accessories. The exact ways where breakdowns were once a source of gossip were now lined with pastel posters reminding us to “Just breathe” and “Be kind.” Something didn’t feel right; it wasn’t that mental health was finally being discussed. The language was curated and sanitized. The faces behind the campaign had slogans of confessed surface-level experiences of mental health issues and missing themselves without the proper information. Making others who suffer so profoundly feel even more alone.
That moment was not only the first exposure but also an understanding of the commodification of the struggle. It was mental health awareness without the mess, the nuance, or the accountability. It was activism as an aesthetic, where vulnerability was encouraged only if it was pretty, palatable, and Instagrammable. What I witnessed in the High school hallway has since exploded into a digital phenomenon: influencers crying on TikTok between sponsored posts, the glamorization of trauma on shows like Euphoria, and a generation that learned to self-diagnose to feel seen in a world that rewards performative pain.
I intend to unpack the cultural machinery behind the Mentally Ill Girl archetype by examining media theory, internet feminism, and real-world pain.
When the hit HBO Max show Euphoria aired, I remember watching it with a strange mix of awe and discomfort. The visuals were nothing I had ever seen; the soundtrack played repeatedly on my phone, and the characters, especially Rue, felt painfully honest. But what was so unsettling about the show wasn’t just what was on the screen but how everyone around me responded. Friends began to post quotes from the show, filming with glitter tears and romanticizing the numbness. Some related sincerely, and that made sense. But others seemed to perform their sadness like a trend, slipping into archetypes they hadn’t lived but wanted to wear. It was as if vulnerability had become fashionable, and “being broken” had been rebranded as edgy.
I saw it in myself as well. There were moments I caught reflection, half asleep, mascara smudged, and hadn’t left my bed, and thought, I look like I am in Euphoria. I don’t look tired or need help, but I look cinematic. I was disturbed by my realization: we sought aesthetics instead of healing. Instead of talking about our pain, we were trying to make it palatable. That is the danger of the Mentally Ill Girl Aesthetic” –it blurs the line between expression and limitation, between lived experience and performative identity.
In the age of participatory media and influencer capitalism, the rise of the Mentally Ill Girl aesthetic on platforms like TikTok or shows like Euphoria reflects a troubling shift: mental illness is no longer just a personal struggle but a marketable identity shaped by algorithms and fandom culture and encoded for consumption. This ultimately blurs the line between authenticity and performance in both digital and real-life spaces.
I remember scrolling through Tumblr at thirteen, watching girls turn their sadness into something shimmering. Crying selfies, cigarette ash on a mood board, and much more. We weren’t just watching each other suffer but participating in it. As stated in Henry Jenkins’s Fandom Participatory Culture Textual Poachers, “Fan culture production is often motivated by social reciprocity, friendship, and good feeling rather than economic self-interest” (Jenkins). For many of us, reblogging these images wasn’t about attention. It was trying to belong. Participatory culture meant we found each other through these visual codes of jittery despair; in doing so, we confused performance with truth. We were learning how to be seen, and sadness got us noticed.
This aestheticization of mental health struggles didn’t remain confined to Tumblr. As platforms evolved, so did the manifestations of this trend. On Instagram, for insurance, the curated portrayal of distress becomes more polished yet no less performative. A systematic review examining Instream’s impact on mental health found that “exposure to idealized images and curated content can exacerbate feelings of inadequacy and depressive symptoms among users.” (Fardouly & Vartanian, 2021) This suggests that our platforms for connection and expression also contribute to our emotional turmoil. Blurring the lines between genuine self-expression and the commodification of our struggles.
That confusion between performance and authenticity, between reaching out and showing off, set the stage for what would later emerge as a fully branded version of emotional vulnerability. The Tumblr girl’s glittered grief matured into the Instagram wellness aesthetic and eventually into the rise of the “therapy influencer.” What once felt like mutual recognition of pain turned into content strategy. Here, the language of healing,” inner child,” “safe space,” and “triggered” aren’t just shared but are sold. Platforms that once offered refuge now blur with consumption, and we’re left to decipher which parts of our feelings are genuine and which are just well-filtered performances.
Uncredentialed individuals often dispense generalized advice, blending personal anecdotes with sponsored content, thereby monetizing vulnerability. This phenomenon is reflected in Stuart Hall’s Encoding and Decoding Model, where audiences interpret media messages in varied ways–sometimes accepting them as intended, sometimes negotiating their meaning, or outright rejecting them. In this context, followers may either embrace these influencers as relatable figures or critique them for oversimplifying complex mental health issues. In a published journal by Human Behavior Reports, portrayals can raise awareness and perpetuate stereotypes, depending on audience interpretation. This concern is further supported by findings from a systematic review on Instagram and mental health, which indicate that “exposure to upward comparison material has detrimental effects” (Human Behavior Report, 2021) and that the intensity of Instagram use can impact well-being differently depending on the mental health indicator examined. The review also notes that while the number of followers doesn’t consistently predict well-being, the content consumed plays a crucial role. This duality is evident in HBO’s Euphoria, where the characters’ struggles are glamorized and critiqued, prompting viewers to reflect on the authenticity of televised mental health narratives. The intersection of media representation and audience reception underscores the need for critical engagement with online cognitive content.
I think back to my experience at sixteen– the pastel posters, the whispered slogans, the way pain was suddenly widespread, but only if it was polished. I didn’t have the right words back then, but I knew something fell off. Now I understand it wasn’t that mental health was finally being seen–it was that it was being styled. Packaged and sold. What I felt in that moment has echoed across every platform since, from Tumblr mood boards to TikTok breakdowns to glittered-streaked Rue Bennett tributes.
This is the danger: in the age of participatory media and influencer capitalism, mental illness has been transformed from a deeply personal struggle into a consumable identity.
The mentally ill girl’s aesthetic promised connection, but it often delivered performance. It taught us that suffering was beautiful, as long as it looked a certain way. And I admit I played the part, too. I saw my pain through a cinematic lens instead of a compassionate one. But healing doesn’t look like an HBO scene or a well-curated selfie. Healing can be messy, invisible, and authentic. Maybe the most radical thing we do now is stop trying to look like we’re okay– or like we’re not– and take action to heal, not for the likes, the algorithm, but for ourselves.Work Cited
Duffy, Brooke Erin. “Having It All” on Social Media: Entrepreneurial Femininity and Self-Branding among Fashion Bloggers – Brooke Erin Duffy, Emily Hund, 2015, journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/2056305115604337. Accessed 1 May 2025.
Gill, Rosalind. The Amazing Bounce-Backable Woman: Resilience and the Psychological Turn in Neoliberalism – Rosalind Gill, Shani Orgad, 2018, journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1360780418769673. Accessed 1 May 2025.Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide on JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt9qffwr. Accessed 1 May
Jenkins, Henry. “Textual Poachers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture.” Routledge & CRC Press, Routledge, 6 Nov. 2012, http://www.routledge.com/Textual-Poachers-Television-Fans-and-Participatory-Culture/Jenkins/p/book/9780415533294.
Pavlova, Alina. “Mental Health Discourse and Social Media: Which Mechanisms of Cultural Power Drive Discourse on Twitter?” Social Science & Medicine, Pergamon, 6 Aug. 2020, http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S027795362030469X?ref=pdf_download&fr=RR-2&rr=93912b5d59db51ef.
Stuart-Hall-1980.Pdf – Encoding/Decoding, spstudentenhancement.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/stuart-hall-1980.pdf. Accessed 1 May 2025.
“The Relationship between Instagram Use and Indicators of Mental Health: A Systematic Review.” Computers in Human Behavior Reports, Elsevier, 28 July 2021, http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2451958821000695. -
Brittany Goodwin shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 months, 2 weeks agoI Loved You Too Much to Be Okay
Brittany GoodwinFor my husband, who left too soon. For me, who stayed.
We were building something real.
Something messy and beautiful and ours.
Three years of laughs,
Hard talks, late-night plans,
Tears and kisses and silly fights
That ended in bed or in smiles.You were my safe place.
My soft landing.
My best friend and my storm.We said forever in March.
Turned keys to our first home in May.
And in July—
You left me
With a silence so loud
It still rings in my bones.I watched you go.
I screamed.
I begged.
I broke in ways I can’t explain—
Not even to myself.You didn’t just die.
You tore the sky open,
And I’m still standing in the wreckage,
Barefoot, bleeding, trying to breathe.People say “you’re so strong.”
No.
I’m not strong.
I’m shattered.
But I wake up anyway.
I make coffee.
I cry quietly in the shower.
I hold our memories like landmines—
Knowing any one of them can level me.I loved you too much to be okay.
But I also love you enough
To keep going.Even when it hurts.
Even when I hate you for leaving me.
Even when I ache for just one more touch,
One more laugh,
One more “I’m home.”You were the love of my life.
The stepfather who adored our kids like they were your own.
The man who made ordinary things feel magical.
You were it for me.And now I carry all of that
Inside a heart stitched with grief and fire.I’m still here,
Still breathing,
Still holding the broken pieces
Of everything we were supposed to be.And I will keep going—
Not because I’m strong,
But because love like ours
Deserves to survive
Even if one of us didn’t.-
Omg Brittany, I am so sorry for your loss. This piece is so beautiful and such an incredibly testament to the power and depth of your love. I am sure he is looking down on you, watching out for you and loving you for afar. I love how you ended the piece. It is so true and so incredibly power. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for being part of The…read more
-
Thank you Lauren, these past almost 10 months has been a nightmare. My girls and I have had to go through it alone. We don’t have much family so the ones we do have to lean on are limited. Idk what I would’ve done or how I would’ve made it if I didn’t have my kids and best friend Tayler. I try to remind myself of that everyday, don’t give up a…read more
-
-
-
Audra Jarrard shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 months, 2 weeks agoLess of Me for More of You
Noble StormYour Word say in Ezekiel 11 verse 19 “I will give them a singleness of heart and put a new spirit in them I will take away their stony stubborn heart and give them a tender responsive heart”, (NIV)
I come now asking for an exchange.
Where there is anger,
Grant me Love.
Where I harbor resentment,
Teach me Forgiveness.
Where there is regret,
Show me Acceptance.
Where I hide my shame,
Give me Honor.
Where I buried my sorrows,
Bring forth Gladness.
Where I have pain
Restore me with Comfort.
When I crumble under doubt,
Rise me up into Assurance.
Where there is Chaos,
Bring my thoughts into Order.
Where there is confusion
Show me Clarity.
Where I may pass Judgement,
Open me up to Compassion.
Where I have pride,
Teach me humility.
Where there is fear,
Give me Faith.
Where there is rejection,
Grant me Detachment.
When I worry,
Give me Peace.
Where there is Long Suffering
Grant me Patience.
Where I lost pieces of myself along the way,
Grant me the Strength, Endurance, Grit, Perseverance and Wisdom to come back, Stronger, wiser, and more Victorious than Before.
Ase -
Ruth Liew shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 months, 3 weeks agoToday
RuthThis gig
This “being my best self” business,
This sunny day after the storm
Is pretty rough.
With wind blown trash from last week
(Or last decade) all over the soul
It is exhausting today, to
Focus on today’s business.Some other day will be enchanting, Exhilarating,
I’ll be Wonder Woman
Or
Maybe I’ll be just enough, ok?
And putting one foot in front of another will come a little
Easier, next day
Even if Van Der Klok assesses the score and my kind intentions are a bit lopsided today, and my hair;
There will be
Another day
For me. -
Martha Moore shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 months, 3 weeks agoWhite Flag Flying
Martha C MooreThese conflicting emotions and thoughts always get the best of me and take control. Sinking their teeth into my brain, releasing their venom so it’s always on my mind. I want to just give up and stop trying to take back control. Just give in completely. Let it all go. I’m so tired of trying to hold on and it’s useless anyway. I may or may not have put up a good fight, but the war was fought and the battle is done. It has won. This is the time to surrender and admit defeat.
Prowriting aid style score: 100%
-
Hi Martha, I just want to let you know that I hear you, and see you. our minds can be a scary place sometimes, you aren’t alone in that.
-
Hey Martha, I echo what Ava says. I hear you. I see you and you are not alone. When you feel this way, there are some really great resources. You can text or call 988. Sending love and hugs. <3 Lauren
-
-
Jake shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 months, 3 weeks agoAdmiration Is The New Envy
Jqke“Do you have any sage advice for me ” my friend asked after we discussed a beautiful solo act of spoken word combined with the playing of the Harp. The talented performer is a woman named Amanda Peckler. I thought about my friends question, taken aback with honor – and a bit of imposter syndrome.
My head spun with the amount of answers I could say; I gave so many answers to his one question, I could not even remember what I said.
“I envy your way of thinking,” he said.
“You admire it, not envy.”
After sincerely crediting my mentors for the ability to think the way I do, I explained:
“Most of the time, we can try what we envy:
Next time you envy someone for their talent, change it to admiration.
Inevitably you are going to struggle the first time; just remember:
Even the advanced were once beginners.
-
Aww Jake, what a beautiful sentiment: “We can try what we envy.” I love your insight and your mindset. It is something we can all learn from. Thank you for sharing. <3 Lauren
-
My sincere gratitude for taking the time to tell me how this impacted you, @theunsealed!
-
-
Noirerequiem shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 1 months, 3 weeks agoDear Major Depression and Anxiety
NoireRequiemYou’ve been my shadow for as long as I can remember, lurking in the corners of my mind, whispering doubt, exhaustion, and fear into every crevice of my soul. You’ve made yourself at home in my thoughts, convincing me that stillness is safety, that failure is inevitable, and that I am nothing without you.
But I see you now. I see how you twist my reflection, how you tangle my dreams in barbed wire, how you drag your fingers through my happiness just to watch it unravel. I hear the lies you tell me—that I’m not good enough, that I’ll never change, that I should just give up. And I won’t pretend your voice isn’t loud. It is. Some days, it’s all I hear.
But guess what? I’m still here. I’m still writing, still fighting, still daring to want more than the prison you’ve tried to build around me. You’ve stolen too many moments, too many dreams, too many days where I could have felt joy but instead felt only your weight pressing down on my chest.
So, I’m making something clear today: You don’t get to win.
I won’t say you’re gone, because I know you’re always lurking. But I will say this—I am learning to live around you, despite you, and in defiance of you. Every time I write, every time I create, every time I move forward even when you’re clawing at my ankles, I am reclaiming myself.
You are not me. You are something I carry, something I battle, but you do not define me.
I do.
And I choose to keep going.
Sincerely,
Me
-
Wow! Wow! Wow! This is so well-written and so powerful. I am so inspired about your approach and mentality. It does not get to definite. It won’t win. You are power. You are brilliance and you inspire me. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. Sending lots and lots of hugs <3 Lauren
-
-
Kendra Bendewald shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 2 months, 4 weeks agoBi-Polar
Kendy BendewaldOutside my body
Looking in
It’s time to alert
My last of kinI’m not myself
Think I’ve gone crazy
The last few days
Have been quite hazyWhat am I thinking?
Have I gone nuts?
I’m acting insane
And I’m dressed like a slutMy middle finger
In the air
I’m drunk by noon
And i’ve cut my hairCouldn’t give a fuck less
If I get in trouble
Speed limit’s 30,
I’m doing doubleBlaring music
Hysterically screaming
Everything’s foggy
I must be dreaming
Met up with some new friends
Guess it’s high time to go ghost
On the people around me
That care about me the mostThey’ll know exactly
What this all means
They’ll try and stop it
And I’ll cause a sceneMy mom will exclaim
“Oh, fuck, she’s gone manic!”
And when you look at her face
You can see she’s started to panicBut what everyone here
Is failing to realize
Is that a manic episode
Is like winning the grand prizeI’m having a great time
I just quit my job
I’ve pounded a fifth
And i’m making kabobsI don’t wanna come down
I don’t wanna stop it
Won’t take medication
So you might as well drop itSo I’m watching my alter
Destroy all that I’ve built
She won’t even slow down
Doesn’t understand guiltGive it a week
And I’ll snap back to reality
But I’ll be so fucking depressed
That I’ll crave that mentalityNo one can wake me
For almost a week
But when they finally do
I’m empty and bleakI’d rather be mental
Blissfully crazy
Than low, sad, or sleepy,
Vacant and lazyIt’s no easy task
Living life with bi-polar
Cause when she gets on a good one
Even I can’t control herStyle Score: 80
-
Martha Moore shared a letter in the
Mental Health group 3 months agoPlanted Roots
Martha MooreDeep inside
You’ve planted roots
I can feel you taking over
I am a subject in your kingdom
You are the king and queen of my whole being
Darkness that no light can penetrate
My ruler, my Lord, my curse
You grow bigger and stronger everyday
I simply wither away
Hoping to stand clear of drowning
There is no place in my mind to feel safe
To be safe
I am a haunted house
Controlled by you
Never ending reels in my house of horror
Never forget
I’m trapped in my past
I can’t find my way back home - Load More
