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It Is Okay to Be Not Okay

In recent weeks, articles about depression and suicide among teens and children have caught my attention and struck a chord. It is no secret that I live with depression, nor that I have struggled at times to manage its symptoms.

It has been 231 days since I looped a thick orange extension cord over a ceiling beam and stepped onto a chair, intending to end my life. As I prepared to do so, I could not think of a single reason to live. I stepped down because I also could not think of one reason to die.

Photo by Keren Fedida on Unsplash

It is one of those lessons I wish I had learned much earlier: how to be okay with not being okay.

Life is not rainbows and unicorns, yet we are taught—explicitly and implicitly—that happiness is the goal and that anything else is failure. Anger, sadness, fear, frustration, anxiety, grief—these are emotions we are encouraged to suppress or avoid, labeled unhealthy or undesirable. And yet they are unavoidable. They are part of being human.

To live an emotionally and mentally healthy life, we must be able to experience and work through a full range of emotions, including the uncomfortable ones. Too often, parents raise children as though these emotions should not exist. That kind of shielding leaves children unprepared for life when it inevitably becomes difficult, emotionally dwarfing them and, in some cases, leading to self-harm.

This is why I bristle when my mother sends me messages urging me to be strong, to smile, to believe that everything will be okay. Her intentions are loving. But I was taught, from a young age, that crying was bad, that sadness made people uncomfortable, that strength meant silence. For a child who was sexually abused, those lessons were devastating. Fear, sadness, and anger became shameful emotions—ones to hide rather than process.

That inability to be parented through crisis followed me into adulthood. It contributed to why I hid abuse in a previous relationship for months before going to the police. What I once believed was my shame, I now understand was never mine.

Reading these articles also brought back memories of my former partner and his two daughters. His need to be the favored parent, his avoidance of difficult conversations, his dismissal of emotional complexity—these failures of parenting took a toll on my mental health. Combined with sustained verbal and physical abuse, they pushed me to that chair. At the time, I believed that everything I endured—what he did to me and what I witnessed—was my responsibility to carry. It was not. It was his.

In the 231 days since, I have learned that it is okay to be not okay. That realization gave me the courage to speak openly about experiences I had long kept buried. It continues to be central to my healing. I am learning that there are no toxic emotions—only harmful reactions to emotions left unacknowledged.

It feels as though rainbows and unicorns are rarer now than they once were. Life has become more competitive, academically and socially. Children today often mature physically faster than previous generations, yet emotionally and mentally they are maturing more slowly, in part because of excessive parental shielding. How can someone taught only how to cope with comfort thrive—let alone survive—in a world filled with uncertainty, pressure, and loss?

Supportive parenting is not synonymous with protection at all costs. As Derek Thompson notes in Why American Teens Are So Sad for The Atlantic, hyper-protective parenting may deprive children of the resilience they need to navigate today’s world. This work begins at home.

Parenting is not about preserving happiness at all times. It is about preparing children not just to survive, but to thrive. That means helping them sit with discomfort, question their emotions, and respond in healthy ways—not fleeing from feeling altogether.

Think of it this way: when teaching a child to drive, you don’t only teach them how to turn left. You teach them how to turn right, make U-turns, stop, go, and park. Teaching only one direction leads nowhere. Shielding children from emotional complexity does the same—it teaches them how to move in circles.

Be the parent who helps a child face difficult truths, even when it is uncomfortable. Those truths will bring a range of emotions, both painful and beautiful. And with guidance, children can learn that emotions are not something to escape, but something to work through.

Tell them it is okay to be not okay—as long as they take a healthy step toward being okay again. Sometimes, that step is simply crying until there are no tears left.

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If you or someone you love is struggling with thoughts of self-harm, support is available. In the United States, the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline can be reached by calling or texting 988. If you are outside the U.S., local resources can be found through your country’s public health services.

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A related reflection on healing, time, and ordinary life can be found in The Grandeur of Mundaneness.

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