It’s Still Okay Not to Be Okay

By Kristin Brown, CCLS

Several years ago, I wrote a piece for the Bulletin titled “It’s Okay Not to Be Okay.” I talked about how crying isn’t wrong or a weakness, that it’s a healthy and appropriate response to overwhelming feelings our patients experience.

As child life specialists, we are trained in emotional support. We spend our days in between trauma and grief, laughter, and play. We teach coping skills, normalize big feelings, and advocate for the emotional well-being of those we care for. Yet, outside of tips to avoid burnout and compassion fatigue, our own emotional well-being is rarely talked about, leading to continued suffering in silence, believing we have to hold it all together.

That phrase has since become something I hold onto in my own life as I’ve navigated the realities of mental health struggles, but it’s something I wish I’d heard earlier on. So let this be your reminder, spoken clearly and without hesitation: It’s okay not to be okay.

When We Stop Applying the Theory to Ourselves

We were all trained with Bronfenbrenner’s Ecological Systems Theory, which states that all aspects of our lives are interconnected and have a back-and-forth effect on each system, but while we use that in our practice as child life specialists, it feels like we’ve come to believe that it doesn’t apply to us when we enter the walls where we work.

Many feel an unspoken pressure to be endlessly resilient in our work, to go from a memory-making situation to an end-of-treatment celebration without letting any emotions bleed into the next thing on our to-do list. But that resilience mindset often extends into how we see ourselves as human beings, not just as child life specialists.

The irony is not lost on me: We regularly sit with patients’ caregivers and validate their stress by reminding them their life does not stop just because their child is in the hospital. And yet in the world of child life, we’re taught that our lives must stop when we put our badge on and clock in. How often do we pass a co-worker in the hall and say “How’s it going?” but don’t expect an answer other than a generic but polite “good,” or sarcastic “living the dream.” This unwritten rule, that we should switch off the most human parts of ourselves, doesn’t just fuel the stigma around mental health. It deepens isolation, which can have significant negative consequences on our lives.

So, I want to talk about it—openly, honestly, and without shame. During my 13 years as a child life specialist, I have experienced the profound rewards of the work we do and the very real challenges of navigating my own mental health. I have been the specialist who arrived each day ready to support patients and families with a smile on my face, setting aside my personal struggles to be fully present for others, yet privately, I was working overtime to simply make it to see another day. If sharing this part of my story helps even one other specialist feel less isolated or more empowered to seek support, then challenging the stigma is more than worth it.

Through that journey, I became increasingly aware of some of the myths I had heard—and, at times, came to believe myself.

  • Myth #1: You’re a child life specialist; you’re supposed to be the happy one.
  • Myth #2: Our mental health struggles stem from our work; therefore, we must be okay with it since we chose this profession.
  • Myth #3: You can’t support others if your own mental health is struggling.
  • Myth #4: Talking about mental health makes it worse, is attention seeking, is taboo, etc.
  • Myth #5: I’m letting down my team, my patients, my co-workers, etc., if I take time off work to prioritize my mental health.

But myths start to lose their power when they are met with truth.

  • Fact #1: Anyone can suffer from a mental health diagnosis. Hard stop. It doesn’t matter where they live, what they do for work, how strong they seem, etc. Mental health disorders are legitimate medical conditions, a change in brain chemistry. Just as we would explain to a patient that a physical diagnosis like Type 1 diabetes is not their fault, that it reflects a biological change in the body, we must extend that same compassion to ourselves when facing mental health challenges. The perception that our role is the “fun” one does not mean our minds are immune to struggle.
  • Fact #2: Child life specialists do emotionally demanding work, but not all mental health struggles come from the work we do. Anxiety, depression, trauma, loss, and stress can exist long before a career in child life—and they can continue regardless of how skilled, passionate, or resilient we are or try to be. Struggling does not mean the work is too much for us or that we are in the wrong profession. It simply means we are human. For many of us, the job is the easy part of life. We can cope with the challenges, patient and non-patient related, that we encounter daily at work, but it’s when we leave work, and the child life brain shuts off, that the reality of what our own brain is battling sets back in. 
  • Fact #3: At times, supporting others offers a temporary reprieve from our own battles—a chance to step outside ourselves and focus on someone else’s world. Sharing even a small piece of our light can be enough to sustain us as we continue seeking support and reminding ourselves that we have more to offer than what our mind tells us.
  • Fact #4: It’s okay to ask for help. Seeking help and speaking up are signs of strength. Saying out loud what’s inside your mind can feel scary, overwhelming, and even embarrassing at times. But it’s actually the bravest thing you can do. Acknowledging that something isn’t right and that you cannot do it on your own is a powerful first step, one that can change the trajectory of your life.
  • Fact #5: It’s okay not to be okay. It’s essential to challenge the stigma that mental health struggles are a sign of weakness or a sign of not being grateful for the life we have. We see firsthand so much pain and sorrow in our daily work that many of us have likely told ourselves something along the lines of “I shouldn’t feel this way when my patients and families are going through something so much worse.” Yet we would never tell a patient or caregiver to be grateful they aren’t going through whatever the room next door is, and that is the same grace we should be giving ourselves.

Making Space for Ourselves

In a field that values empathy and emotional insight, it can feel especially difficult to admit when our own mental health needs support. There is often an unspoken expectation that we should be able to cope because we help others cope.

But personal mental health challenges are not something to overcome through professionalism or compassion alone, and they are not a reflection of our competence as child life specialists. We are allowed to care deeply about our work and still need help for reasons that may have nothing to do with our job. We are allowed to show up as skilled professionals while also carrying personal struggles that are unseen. Making space for these truths—within ourselves and within our professional communities—helps break the stigma that tells us we should be the strong one, the resilient one, the fun one.

Prioritizing our mental health, wherever our struggles stem from, is not a failure of child life values. Just as we encourage children and families to express their emotions and ask for help, we deserve to give ourselves the same compassion and permission. Creating space for honest conversations about mental health is not a weakness; it is an act of care for ourselves, for each other, and for the future of child life.

The future of this profession cannot exist if the very people who love it are no longer able to find joy in their daily lives, both in and out of the workplace. Being a child life specialist has been one of the most rewarding jobs, and I am humbled to have been in this field for 13 years. But at the end of the day, it is just a role we fill for a set number of hours a week. We are child life specialists, but first and foremost, we are human beings, we are daughters and sons, sisters and brothers, partners, aunts and uncles, friends, and so much more.

Our work matters deeply, but it should never come before our own well-being. Sustaining this profession begins with sustaining the person behind the title. Taking care of our mental health is not optional; it is essential. It begins with breaking the stigma and daring to say out loud that we need support, too. 

Mental Health Check-in

  • How am I feeling physically? Am I eating and drinking regularly? Am I sleeping too much or not enough?
  • How am I feeling emotionally? What recurring thoughts am I having today?
  • When did I last celebrate myself? When did I last do something that brought me joy or simply made me smile?
  • Am I neglecting daily personal care routines?
  • When was the last time I went outside?

Mental Health Reminders

  • You are not your thoughts, you are not your diagnosis.
  • Healing often comes in waves; you can start over again.
  • You are doing a great job; celebrate the small wins.
  • You are not alone.

Mental Health Resources

 

 

Kristin Brown, CCLS, has 13 years of experience across inpatient, ICU, emergency, and outpatient settings. Her career reflects a dual commitment to supporting patients and families while also advocating for the well-being of the professionals who care for them. Currently serving as an editor and a four-time Bulletin author, her non-clinical work focuses on her passion for mentoring child life students and specialists and advancing mental health and sustainability within the profession. She is also a member of the Bulletin Committee.