There are so many things I hope my daughters learn as they grow – how to be kind, how to stick up for themselves, how to trust their instincts. But one think I think about most, especially as their emotions develop, is mental health.
Not just in the big clinical sense of way – but in the everyday moments. The quiet feelings. The overwhelming ones. And the new ones we don’t even have words for yet.
This is what I want my daughters to know.
Your Feelings Are Real — Even When They’re Messy
I want my daughters to know that their feelings don’t need to be justified to be real. You don’t need to earn compassion by being at your breaking point – an emotion is an emotion whether it is big or small.
Feelings don’t have to be “big enough” or “bad enough” to matter. Feeling sad without a clear reason. Feeling anxious about something small. Feeling angry, overwhelmed, or overstimulated — all of it counts. To me – to their Dad – and hopefully to the people in their lives. If they don’t matter to others – it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be felt.
You Are Not Weak for Struggling
I hope they never believe the lie that struggling emotionally means they’re failing at life.
Mental health isn’t a personal flaw. It isn’t something to hide or be embarrassed by. It’s part of being human — emotions are what makes us human — and something that ebbs and flows throughout life.
Some seasons are heavier than others, but that will never mean something is wrong with you. I try to be open about my emotional experiences with my daughters – well as transparent as a Mom should be with children. Anger, joy, sadness, frustration, overstimulation, etc. – I will explain my mood changes and even ask for their respect and understanding during difficult times.
Before my cousin passed away in October, I was visiting him in hospice almost every night. My middle child asked why I was so quiet during those weeks. I explained my silence as a different kind of “sad.” Not all sadness means you cry – sometimes there are no tears, nor are there any words, to express the feelings inside. Whether she understood my explanation or not, she nodded and hugged me tightly.
Asking for Help is BRAVE
I want my daughters to grow up knowing that asking for help is brave. No one is meant to walk through life alone.
It’s important that my daughters know mental health is just like your regular health – and sometimes you need someone who specializes in it to help you. The girls know I talk to a therapist – they know her name and they know that she has helped me navigate many tricky moments. From my long battle with Covid to postpartum depression to motherhood, she has talked me through it all.
Talking to a parent. A teacher. A trusted friend. Saying “I’m not okay” out loud is not a weakness — it’s a form of self-respect.
Rest Is Not a Reward – It is a MUST
This is a big one. This one took me thirty years to understand – and to practice.
I want my daughters to understand that rest is not something you earn after exhaustion. You don’t have to prove your worth by resilience. You will not win any awards for powering through an emotional breakdown. Sometimes we are simply tired from existing – and that’s OK. Your body and mind deserve to rest simply because you live.
Comparison Will Never Let You Love Yourself
My toddler loves herself – every inch of herself – even when she is covered in cupcake frosting wearing two day old pajamas. She has zero concept of anyone else being better than her at this age – but at some point, she will look at someone else and think, “Wow I wish I was her.”
We talk a lot about comparison being the thief of joy – but what about it stealing your self-love? Growing up in a digital world means comparison is unavoidable – but it doesn’t have to define you. Someone else’s highlight reel does not cancel out your real life. Someone else’s confidence or accomplishments does not mean you’re lacking or failing or behind.
I hope my daughters learn to step back when comparison starts to feel loud — and come home to themselves.
You Are Loved Exactly As You Are
Above everything else, I want my daughters to know this:
You don’t need to be happier, calmer, more accomplished, or more put-together to be loved.
You are worthy — even on the days you feel overwhelmed, emotional, unsure, or tired.
Especially on those days.
I don’t expect my daughters to have perfect mental health. I don’t expect them to always be okay.
What I hope — what I truly want for them — is that they grow up knowing they are allowed to take care of their minds with the same compassion they give their hearts.
And that they never feel alone while doing it.
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