10/10/2025 | News release | Distributed by Public on 10/10/2025 15:30
From a young age, I was obsessed with ensuring perfection in all things, from making sure every Matchbox toy car was in its designated parking spot on the table in the porch of my childhood home to meticulously arranging each book on my bedroom's nightstand by the color of the rainbow. Anything that wasn't a part of my organized, quaint, sheltered world became terrifying.
In adolescence, I started to feel that anything that diverted from the normal, or "perfect," became more than a little irritant-it became anxiety-inducing. It was never a surprise to my parents whenever they found me in a fetal position under a blanket during a thunderstorm or hunkering down in the basement the second there was a tornado warning declared in Rhode Island (even though I'm from Massachusetts).
This crippling desire for perfectionism morphed into an obsessive-compulsive disorder across high school, and now college. And in the past year, I began avoiding the mirror out of fear that it would ruin my mood, buying pieces of clothing a size up so I could hide what was underneath. Overcompensating for my internal insecurities, I immersed myself in schoolwork and extracurricular activities to the point where balance was out of the equation.
This October, for World Mental Health Awareness Month, I want to turn a history of struggle into a moment of reflection and celebration of how far I've come, especially through therapy. And I hope a part of what I've learned resonates with you enough to try one or two of these tricks-or even try therapy for the first time.
My first ever therapy "homework assignment" 12 years ago, involved addressing my anxiety about natural disasters head-on by drawing a visual representation of it
The next week, I walked into my therapist's office with a picture of an angry, dark storm cloud riding in a wooden canoe through a tsunami-sounds anxiety-inducing enough, right? I named him JoJo, after the musical children's television show JoJo's Circus (the only clown I wasn't scared of).
The drawing looked ridiculous and silly, but I was able to take this giant, scary thought from my brain, conceptualize it, and put it on an 8 x 11 piece of paper. From then on, JoJo lived within that piece of paper, and whenever I had inclinations of anxiety, my mind went to that dumbed-down cartoon and I felt better.
As I graduated from elementary school, I left my childhood issues with anxiety behind. Entering adolescence in middle and high school, I struggled more with social anxiety and finding security in the relationships I was making, despite feeling different from most kids on the playground.
It was stereotypical teen angst dialogue: "I don't fit in," "no one understands me," "you'll never be interesting enough to be accepted into this group." No matter how fast I tried to run from these thoughts, they always persisted-and stronger each time.
Instead of running from my "inner saboteur," my second therapist instructed me to write down every instance of negative dialogue in a notebook, starting on Monday. On Sunday, I would take the pages, rip them up into tiny pieces, and throw them behind me. Yes, it left a mess in my room, but the pieces of paper were ripped up too small for me to put them back together, which left the thoughts physically destroyed. Soon, the notebook pages became shorter and shorter as the weeks passed by.
Therapy is an evolving practice, and so are the ways to find it. You can connect with a therapist through your local doctor's office (as I did the first time), an online directory like BetterHelp.com (as I did the second time), or through a friendly referral (as I did the third time). I have been with that therapist for almost two years.
Regardless of how I found therapy, one lesson remains: you need to do the work outside of your sessions to supplement your discussion. Think of it like piano lessons. If you don't practice regularly, you get stuck on the same song for four weeks. Likewise, if you don't implement what your therapist asks, you'll get stuck on that same problem.
One way to check in with yourself is through meditation or journaling apps on your phone. I recommend Calm, Headspace, and Sanvello. Calm offers guided breathing, sleep techniques, movement, and stretching. Headspace offers thousands of mindfulness exercises that, according to a Stress Free UC Study, can benefit users for two months after stopping use when practicing daily. Sanvello includes mood tracking tools and a community support feature that allows you to connect with peers on common blockers.
A recent tip I discovered is utilizing social media algorithms. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok are designed to show you content you enjoy, so engage with it by liking or saving posts in order to see similar content in the future.
One of the most helpful content creators I found through this process was award-winning podcast host Mel Robbins, who champions the "Let Them Theory," a mindset tool that encourages people to stop trying to control or change other people's thoughts, words, or actions, as they are beyond your personal power.
I applied this theory to a group project. Ordinarily, I would finish my section and meticulously pick apart every other section until I was certain that all "i"s were dotted and all "t"s were crossed. This was time-consuming, and the amount of time and energy it took made group projects dauntng over time.
Most recently, I finished editing my own section of a group background report, and reached out with an "everyone good with their part before I submit?" text. If they were satisfied, I let it be, if they wanted changes, I allowed that.
Previously, my biggest fears were crowds, loud noises, and natural disasters. Now, it's about having a confrontation. Hello adulthood! It's not very common that I have to confront people when my values or desires don't align with theirs, but when I do, there are so many equations and outcomes that run through my head before I either A) decide which way I'm going to approach the issue, or B) more commonly, run away from the issue as a whole.
This is where I suggest using acronyms to help minimize the complexity of conflict dialogue and streamline the approach, regardless of its severity. Allow me to introduce you to DEARMAN:
D: Describe the topic, issue, or request
E: Express your thoughts and feelings about it
A: Assert what you need or want to happen
R: Reinforce that you're serious
M: Stay mindful and calm in the process
A: Appear confident and firm
N: Negotiate to come to an agreement
Such acronyms provide structure while recognizing the need for flexibility.
Issues and/or confrontations often don't result in a 100 percent satisfaction rate, and these strategies can help you stay open-minded to compromise, so you don't burn bridges with the people most important to you.
It's essential to recognize that not all of these approaches will be suitable for you, and therapy will take various forms as you progress through life. If I could add a sixth tip, it would be the recognition that therapy is not linear. You may go weekly at one point, then biweekly, stop for three years, and then life throws you a curve ball and suddenly you're back, sometimes with the same therapist and sometimes with someone else. And every process is perfectly OK!
Getting help is not an admission of weakness. It's a sign of courage, a strong initiative, and a self-serving vow that you will continue to check in on the most important person in your life: you!
The best way to embrace your outside is to nurture your inside first, and if you can't let yourself in, you'll have an even harder time letting anyone else in to support you.
Someday you'll be so proud of your journey that someone will come to you and ask you to write a personal essay for a blog celebrating World Mental Health Awareness Month, and then no one can take away the validity of your journey ever again.
The Top Five Mental Health Lessons I Gained from Therapy