Kindness Healed Me

Kindness Healed Me

The first time I had an anxiety attack, I didn’t know what was happening to me. It was during the lockdown — a time when the world felt uncertain, but inside me, it felt even more chaotic. My heart pounded so fast that I thought something was seriously wrong. My hands trembled, my chest tightened, and for a moment, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was terrifying.

I remember sitting alone in my room, trying to calm myself down, but I didn’t even know what I was trying to calm down from. Was it stress? Overthinking? I had never heard the word anxiety in this way before. No one around me had ever spoken about it. Mental health was never a conversation in my home, not because my parents didn’t care, but because they simply didn’t know. Like so many others, they had never been taught about it.

When someone suggested therapy, I immediately rejected the idea. Therapy felt like something people went to only if they were completely broken, and I didn’t want to believe that I needed it. There was so much stigma around it, and the thought of admitting that I needed help scared me more than my own anxiety did.

Months passed, and things only got worse. I started feeling trapped inside my own mind, like I was drowning in my thoughts but had no words to explain it. Finally, in October 2021, I gathered the courage to start therapy. Walking into that first session was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was scared, vulnerable, and unsure if I was making the right decision.

At the same time, I had just started my own company. As a founder, I felt an enormous pressure to be strong. I believed that admitting to therapy would make people think I wasn’t capable enough, that I was weak. So, I kept it a secret. I didn’t tell my friends, my colleagues, or even my parents.

But the more I suppressed it, the worse it got. The weight of hiding my struggles became heavier than the anxiety itself. And then, one day, during one of my therapy sessions, I had a realization — acceptance. My therapist helped me see that anxiety wasn’t something to be ashamed of. It was a medical condition, not a flaw. It wasn’t a sign of weakness, and it definitely wasn’t my fault.

That changed everything for me. I slowly started opening up — not just about my own struggles, but about mental health in general. I wanted to break the silence, not just for myself, but for everyone who had ever felt as lost and scared as I had.

That’s when I decided to take things one step further. I trained to become a Mental Health First Aid (MHFA) Aider because I didn’t want anyone else to go through what I did — feeling helpless, confused, and alone. I wanted to be the person who could help others recognize their struggles before it got too overwhelming.

My parents didn’t understand mental health when I first started struggling, but today, because of the conversations we’ve had, they do. And that’s what gives me hope — that change starts with one conversation at a time.

Looking back, I realize that breaking my silence was the hardest thing I ever did, but also the most powerful. Today, I share my journey openly, hoping that even if one person feels less alone because of it, it’s worth it.

If you’re struggling, know this: You are not alone. Your feelings are real. And asking for help doesn’t make you weak — it makes you strong