A couple of years ago, I bought a sweatshirt that says “Mental Health is Health,” advocating that mental health requires the same regular checkup as a physical, even when nothing seems wrong.

Several times, strangers saw my sweater and shared their own stories and experiences with mental health. One told me how she became a big advocate after discovering she struggled with depression and anxiety. Someone at a snowboard shop told me how his brother seriously struggles with mental health challenges and how his family has had to support him. And another, in passing, mentioned how they believe the increased attention people give to mental health these days might actually exacerbate the issue, creating problems that otherwise wouldn’t exist.

I love hearing what people think. It’s fascinating to me the meaningful responses I’ve received just wearing this simple message. Overall, I strongly believe mental health should be taken as seriously as physical health, especially when it’s debilitating.

However, I also see it’s become “trendy” to claim depression, anxiety, or some other psychological label without truly understanding or experiencing these conditions. Unlike a broken bone or high glucose levels, mental health is much more abstract and presents in countless ways—but that doesn’t mean everyone struggles with it on a clinical level.

I started significant self-work in college to begin the healing process from the stereotypical “oldest Korean daughter” wounds. I worked on accepting where I was in life, learning to live in the moment, and rejecting the toxic comparisons and criticisms I’d internalized growing up. I focused on embracing myself as I am, rather than trying to fit into societal boxes, seeking validation, or finding value through others.

Those years were incredibly challenging but also transformative. My faith and supportive communities grounded me, and I genuinely celebrate how far I’ve come since high school. But in the past few months, I realized my interest in self-growth and mental health had become somewhat obsessive.

I started reading article after article about relationships, inner child work, narcissism, childhood traumas, and attachment styles to deal with my anxiety and frustration in my relationship. I already know so much about these things, but I just kept reading and applied the knowledge to myself, to my relationship, and to my family. It gave me a way to explain my background and behaviors to my partner, but it also began a trend of labeling me and my family, putting us into boxes, and judging us according to how I was affected growing up.

All it did was make me feel resentful, doubtful, and anxious. The only way I could manage those feelings, then, was to read more articles: “why do I feel resentful towards my childhood,” “signs of childhood trauma,” “signs my relationship is ending,” or “why can’t I be happy?!” 

Mental health work is crucial and I love how it’s becoming more normalized; that’s why I’m a counselor for a living. But the obsessive hypochondriacal fixation on mental health coddles and debilitates instead of teaching resilience. It gives excuses instead of power to overcome. And I see many, many people on social media labeling themselves with some form of mental illness—often self-diagnosed—and attributing their struggles or failures in life to their parents, childhood, or upbringing. Some even use these labels to justify dysfunctional coping mechanisms. At its worst, it can lead people to internalize the labels and conform to them, creating self-fulfilling prophecies.

The truth is, it doesn’t always help to dig deeper and deeper into the why. My philosophy of life was heavily shaped by a quote from Ella Fitzgerald that goes: 

“It isn’t where you came from, it’s where you’re going that counts.”

I don’t say this to invalidate anyone’s experience but to invite self-reflection. Labels are helpful to understand one’s experiences and know what to do to seek help. But when the understanding turns to internalization, blame, or fixation, it can hinder genuine understanding and cause more harm than good. It’s like using WebMD to diagnose a stomachache, deciding it feels like cancer, and eating chocolate in bed blaming your parents for your genetics instead of seeking a professional diagnosis or the appropriate treatment.

It’s great to have the knowledge of mental health, understand one’s experiences, and know there is a community out there, but if we stop there we will never get better.

Like so many people, happiness seems so out of reach sometimes, and I often wonder why I can’t seem to just be happy. But then I remember it’s within my control. 

Even when my mind gravitates toward negativity, I can choose to focus on the positives instead. I can choose to surround myself with people I love and be fully present with them. I can choose to smile instead of frown, even if it feels forced. I can choose to congratulate others on their successes instead of comparing myself. I can choose to tell the criticizing voices in my head to shut up and enjoy the present. 

Mental health is crucial, but obsessively analyzing ourselves and others isn’t the goal. The goal is to discover what helps us to be and be better–to live, grow, and thrive even when life feels uncertain.

So instead of watching another Psych2Go video, I think I’ll have a sit out in the sunshine.