Therapy stigma starts on the playground

I grew up in the age of “shut the hell up and deal with it.”

Gen X didn’t get therapy. We got sarcasm, latchkey independence, and the emotional toolkit of a half-melted G.I. Joe. You had problems? Push'em down. Pretend they didn’t exist. Smile through it, make a joke, maybe drink about it later if you're feeling spicy.

And if you did talk about your feelings? You were weak. Broken. A burden. That’s the world we were handed. That’s what was modeled. And for a while, we bought it wholesale.

Then I went into law enforcement. And if you think the general world had stigma around therapy, holy shit. Cops don’t talk. You could be hanging by a psychological thread, spinning out from the million horrific things you’ve seen and still the only acceptable response was: “I’m fine.” That’s the script. Anything else gets you labeled. Dangerous. Unfit. Or worse, soft.

So you swallow it. Again. And the bile just builds.

PTSD doesn’t always come from a single “shell shock” moment. It’s not always some cinematic explosion or one horrific scene that shatters you.

More often, it’s erosion. A thousand tiny injuries to the soul you never got to bandage.

It’s a single sheet of paper for every bad call, every close encounter, every time you saw something you can't unsee, or smelled something you can't unsmell.. Basically every time you had to pretend something didn’t gut you. And you just keep stacking them.

No breaks. No rest. You carry the pile with you, everywhere. Never allowed to put it down.

And even when it gets too damn heavy to lift, you're expected to smile and say, “I’m fine.”

It’s cumulative. And it’s everywhere in that world. But no one says a damn word.

Now I work on the tech side of therapy — building tools for SLPs, OTs, & PTs. We’re helping providers help people. Mostly kids. And let me tell you, kids don’t carry the stigma yet. They’re open. Curious. They engage.

But that’s the part that scares me.

Because, let's be honest here.. kids can also be mean little assholes. I know this because I was one and we’ve all seen it. They zero in on weakness or what looks like weakness and pounce. So while these kids are getting help now, while they’re learning that therapy is normal, I can’t help but worry.

At what point does the world teach them shame?

At what point does some other kid ... probably raised by a parent who still thinks therapy is for the broken ... say something shitty in the lunch line? At what point does “I see a therapist” become a punchline instead of progress?

That’s how it starts. Just one voice poisoning the well. And the cycle begins again.

So yeah, the stigma is real. And it’s dangerous. It stops people from getting help. It tells them that suffering in silence is noble, and healing is something to hide. And we wonder why people implode.

If you ask me, talking to a professional is one of the strongest things a person can do. Owning your shit, sorting through the rubble, and doing the work? That takes courage. It takes clarity. It takes humility. It's not weak!

But our culture still worships the cowboy loner who rides off into the desert with a thousand-yard stare and unresolved trauma.

And that’s not strength. That’s a slow death with good lighting.

Therapy isn’t weakness. Staying broken just to look strong is.

We can do better. For us. For the kids. For the version of ourselves that needed help back then and never got it.