When I look back at how society viewed mental health in the 1900s, I realize just how much things have changed. Back then, psychology and therapy were seen as something to be ashamed of, with many people regarding psychological struggles as a sign of weakness. But even when therapy was considered, it was often in secret. There was little understanding of the importance of addressing mental health issues openly, and this affected generations of families—including mine.

Growing up, I lived in what seemed to be a privileged family. On the outside, everything looked perfect—status, prestige, success. But behind closed doors, it was a different story. My family was separated, emotionally distant, with alcoholism and distracted by their own traumas. As a teenager I didn’t understand the issues. I struggled to cope with the disconnect between the facade we showed the world and the reality I lived. I started skipping school, getting into drugs, and my grades suffered. I partied excessively, trying to numb my emotions and escape the pain I couldn’t fully understand or articulate at the time.

I tried reaching out for help, but as a teenager, I wasn’t taken seriously.

In the early 2000s, mental health resources were still limited, especially for young people. I called helplines and sought advice, but I didn’t have the access or support I truly needed. At 19, I hit a breaking point. I realized that the path I was on wasn’t going to heal me. It was just a way to mask the deeper issues I hadn’t yet addressed.

Desperate for answers, I turned to self-help. I traveled, explored meditation, and delved into natural healing methods. I was constantly searching for ways to make sense of my past and my feelings. In a way, these explorations were my attempts to process the trauma from my childhood and understand what had really happened in my family. Eventually, I decided to study psychology, hoping to find a way to help others but also to make sense of my own experiences. I wanted to understand myself better and break the cycle of pain that had been passed down.

Despite my best efforts, though, I couldn’t do it alone.

It wasn’t until I was 27 that I finally started therapy. The experience was life-changing. For the first time, I had a space where it was just about me—a place where I could untangle my emotions, understand my patterns, and in a sense, find myself again. I had always been highly sensitive, always looking out for others, making sure everything around me was okay. I had complete control. But I had no connection to myself, to my own feelings and my own needs. Therapy helped me rebuild that connection. Through understanding my own conflicts, I also started to gain insight into what my family members might have been going through. This allowed me to gradually separate myself from their traumas and stop identifying with their struggles. I could finally focus on my own conflicts. Yet, despite this progress, there are still moments when I feel like a hurt, angry child—one that hasn’t given up hope. A hope that someday, I will experience the love I always needed.

My therapy didn’t just help me understand myself and others better—it gave me the courage to act on my ideas and bring them to life. For the longest time, I didn’t believe in myself. I never had the confidence to follow through with my plans, and I often gave up quickly when things got difficult. Therapy changed that. It gave me the strength to trust in my abilities and pushed me to finally start something I had long thought about: my podcast. Generation Therapy is a direct result of the inner work I’ve done, and it feels like a symbolic transition for me.

Before starting the podcast, I had never even used Instagram or TikTok.

For a long time, I avoided social media because I found it toxic to my mental health. I would constantly compare myself to others, feeling insecure and inadequate. It was only when I began the podcast that I decided to embrace these platforms, not as a source of comparison, but as a way to connect with others and share my story. Now, I’m in front of the camera, recording podcasts, being completely transparent, and even writing down parts of my own story—something I never imagined doing. Who would have thought? But here I am.

As I started to speak more openly about my experiences, I realized I wasn’t alone. So many others, particularly from my generation—Generation Y—were going through similar journeys. Growing up, we didn’t talk about mental health. It was still a taboo subject, influenced by the attitudes of previous generations. There was a lot of shame, and people didn’t openly discuss their struggles. But things are different now. After completing my therapy at 30, I felt empowered by this new openness.

This shift inspired me to launch Generation Therapy. In the podcast, I interview people who have experienced therapy or are actively engaged in conversations about mental health. We talk about how they navigate mental health challenges in their daily lives and how they work through the trauma of previous generations. Many of my guests, like me, belong to Generation Y, and we are all part of this movement to bridge the gap between the older, more closed-off generations and the new, more open approach to mental health.

I’ve come to realize that this openness, this ability to seek therapy, is a privilege—a privilege I want to be thankful of, use to help and share with others.

Through the podcast, we aim to create a space where mental health is discussed freely, including perspectives from as many people as possible. We’re not here to say which path is the right one or which perspective is correct—it’s different for everyone. The goal is simply to showcase as many paths to healing as possible, allowing each person to find what resonates with them. I believe that everyone should have access to mental health support, regardless of their background. In recent years, apps and online platforms have made it easier for people to get mental health support while waiting for therapy. This increased accessibility is a step in the right direction, but more needs to be done to ensure that everyone, regardless of privilege, has the support they need.

Inclusion and the societal shift toward recognizing and addressing mental health have been transformative, and we, as Generation Y, are at the forefront of this change. Many of us have had to confront the trauma passed down from older generations while working toward a more open and supportive approach to mental health. While the demand for therapy has grown, the availability of services still hasn’t caught up. But we’re in this together. We can’t do it alone—it’s up to all of us to keep this conversation going, to advocate for more accessible mental health care, and to support each other along the way. By sharing our stories, experiences, and struggles, we can break the silence and build stronger communities. Through the podcast Generation Therapy, we aim to continue the conversations, ensuring that mental health is not just a privilege for some, but a right for all.

If you want to learn more about Lina and Generation Therapy, check her out on Instagram!