Two Things I Thought I Couldn't Do As A Mental Health Warrior (And How I've Proven Myself Wrong)


As mental health warriors, we often think we’re unworthy of some of the beauty that life has to offer. Or incapable. And while we might have needs that are different from others, that doesn’t mean that these things are out of our reach.

Here are a couple of things that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to do… and how I proved myself wrong.

Being loved well.

This isn’t to say I haven’t been loved well, because I have been loved well. Really well. In a number of different situations and different types of relationships. But self-limiting beliefs as mental health warriors can make it hard to feel worthy of the good, big, deep kind of love. So let me backtrack. I guess there are a few layers right? But what it really comes down to is internalized shame. Not feeling worthy or lovable yourself. Feeling broken. Remember, as Queen Brene says… guilt is “I have done something wrong” and shame is “I am wrong.” When we’re in our heads and speaking first-hand to our mental health who is constructing its own narrative about what we are capable of, it’s often not the most positive conversation. I don’t know about you, but having anxiety doesn’t make me feel invincible. It makes me feel vulnerable. We can reprogram this over time (thank you therapy!) but when I was first diagnosed, I didn’t believe I deserved any kind of love., never mind the good kind. And yet, I was proven wrong again and again.

AND look, I’ve had some pretty codependent relationships in the past but (and this is the really important part) when I wasn’t being loved well, therapy gave me the tools I needed to give it to myself, and leave. And that perspective shift, giving YOURSELF the good kind of love first, is something we all need to learn. Like seriously, I’m going to need schools to make a huge change and start adding some of this into their curriculums because we all missed out on an education here.


Travel.

I have OCD and illness-based anxiety. Ya’ll, in theory, this would make it very tough for me to travel. At least it used to. When you’re stuck inside your house for 6 months at 18 years old, it’s very easy to believe that the great wide world isn’t for you. But what I’ve learned about this is that my mental health truly doesn’t dictate what I can and cannot do. The trick is learning what you love and doing it in a way that aligns with your nervous system and respects your mental health. That goes for anything in life, but particularly travel. Some traveling rituals are for my mental health. Other rituals exist because I like to travel in a certain way. Others are because I don’t always think rationally and I like to have a lot of tools in my kit if something were to go wrong.

And it works. I’ve traveled to Thailand for a month. I’ve gone on solo trips to LA and New York - two of the most overstimulating places on the planet. I’ve solo traveled to England for months at a time. I’ve gone on vacays with friends to Porto and Bordeaux and gone on 10-day road trips with partners where we’ve literally slept in the van the whole time. I’m not saying I’m the most adventurous traveler. I have limitations. For example, I’m not a foodie and I never will be. And I also don’t get it right all the time (hello getting stuck in Atlanta airport because I didn’t listen to my nervous system). But that doesn’t mean I’m unable to travel. It just means I need to listen to my body, give my mental health a seat at the table, and have processes in place to support my wellbeing when I do.

Also, let’s put this in perspective. People travel with specific preferences all the time. I know one person who jumps on the plane without a plan, whereas all my virgo’s out there likely have an hour by hour itinerary to make sure we make the most out of every minute. There are people who experience new cities via food, and people who love experiencing new cultures through art. There are people who love nothing more than laying on a beach for 7 days straight and people who want to go on adventures every single day. There are people who are deathly afraid of flying, and people who would never in a million years step foot on a boat. Each of these examples is valid, could be based on mental health, or is just a general preference. Where that comes from doesn’t really matter. But what does matter is honoring yourself in the process.

My point? Working WITH your mental health, and traveling with the right people, is the key to experiencing travel in a way you can really enjoy.