This Mental Health Awareness Month, Gen Z is not whispering about burnout; we are shouting about it. But as our generation turns self-care into a cultural language, a bigger question lingers: Are we truly healing, or just learning to post prettier versions of our pain? We talk about mental health, but do we live it?
No generation has made mental health this mainstream. We speak therapy, trauma, and boundaries with meme-level fluency.
Our feeds overflow with affirmations and social media reminding us to “drink water, go to therapy, block your ex.”
Yet somewhere between the viral quotes and the quiet cracks in our mental health, we need to pause and ask: Is our awareness translating into real change?
Are we actually resting, or just performing wellness for the algorithm? And do we even know what help looks like beyond the hashtags?
Because if awareness is everywhere, why does anxiety still feel like the national anthem of our generation?
The irony of “self-care culture”
Our generation popularised the idea of soft life, yet so many of us are exhausted.
We romanticise rest but hustle harder than ever. We preach balance, but live online nearly every waking hour.
We are navigating collapsing economies, digital overstimulation, job precarity, climate anxiety, and identity politics, all at once.
The Department of Health has reported rising youth mental health struggles since 2020, with anxiety and depression climbing fastest among those aged 18 to 30.
While government systems move slowly, young people are building micro-systems of survival: safe spaces, peer therapy circles, Discord support groups, journaling habits, playlists, and memes that make the weight feel lighter.
It is beautiful, but it cannot stop there. Awareness should not be the cure, because it is only the first step.
What if mental health awareness became a permanent, not seasonal, focus?
Every October, our timelines flood with green ribbons and motivational campaigns, then November arrives, and the conversation fades.
What if awareness did not have an expiry date? What if companies offered mental health days with the same enthusiasm as team-building days?
What if universities taught emotional literacy alongside economics? What if “How are you?” was a genuine check-in rather than a polite filler? Because awareness without accountability is not progress but branding.
Jessica Gbedemah 29 Sep 2025 The new definition of wellness
Wellness is not a curated aesthetic that we make. It is neither a candlelit bath nor a weekend
digital detox.
True wellness is setting boundaries you actually keep and choosing eight hours of sleep over eight more slides on your deck.
It is learning that “no” is a complete sentence.
It is finding a form of therapy that speaks your language, whether that language is memes, prayer, poetry, dance or music.
Awareness only matters when it inspires action.
Questions worth asking this month
- Are we caring for our minds, or curating them for likes?
- When was the last time we rested without guilt?
- Do our boundaries protect our peace, or just our phone batteries?
- And what would happen if we treated therapy the way we treat Wi-Fi?
Mental Health Awareness Month should not feel like an annual reminder that we are not okay; it should be the start of a lifelong process of getting okay.
So maybe this year, instead of another “self-care checklist,” we should give ourselves permission to pause and question the systems that keep us running on empty.
Because the real flex is not being busy, it is being balanced, and perhaps the most radical thing Gen Z can do right now is rest: loudly, intentionally, and without apology.
Remember #ItsOKayToNotBeOkay but work on being okay.