Writing For Mental Health Awareness

Every human being lives in two worlds — the one outside and the one within. And, the bridge between the two lies in the stories we tell ourselves. These stories are not only reflection, but the architecture of our identity. Our inner narrative shapes our confidence, decisions and the way we interpret events.   Think about it: two people can go through the same experience — a setback, a missed opportunity, a difficult conversation — yet emerge with entirely different takeaways. One sees it as proof of inadequacy, the other as opportunity for growth. The difference lies not in the event, but in the story each person tells themselves about it.   Psychologist Dan McAdams describes this as narrative identity — the internal stories that create our sense of self. Studies have shown that people who tell “redemptive” stories (where setbacks lead to growth) report greater well-being and purpose. In other words, resilience is narrative before it becomes behavioural.   James Gross’s research on cognitive reappraisal shows that how we interpret events directly affects emotional outcomes. Essentially his idea states that changing how you think about a situation changes how you feel about it. People who use this approach experience more positivity, less stress, have better relationships and improved performance.   But long before modern psychology, spiritual traditions spoke about this. The Bhagavad Gita is, at its heart, a dialogue about reframing. Stoic philosophy teaches the same principle: “It’s not things that disturb us,” wrote Epictetus, “but our judgment about them.” Buddhism, too, frames suffering as a story of attachment and interpretation — liberation begins when we see that our narrative is not the ultimate truth but one possible version of it.   Our stories can shrink or expand the space we live in. When our internal narrative is one of scarcity (“I’m not good enough,” “This is always my luck”), we live in a world of limits. When it is one of growth and meaning (“I’m learning,” “This is shaping me”), we inhabit a larger, more empowered reality.   For leaders, this matters too. The story you tell yourself when faced with uncertainty and challenge becomes the story your team absorbs. The best leaders frame chaos into purpose and failure into learning. They understand that storytelling isn’t escapism; it’s how humans absorb change. Effective leaders reframe the story. “We failed” becomes “We learned” “The market shifted” becomes “We need to reinvent” They don’t deny the facts — they simply rewrite the meaning.   The ancient mystics and modern neuroscientists agree on one thing: the mind believes what it repeats. In the end, we live not just the life we experience, but the one we narrate to ourselves. The stories we tell ourselves can chain us in fear or propel us toward infinite possibility.   So, choose your story with care. Because while we may not always control the plot of our lives, we always hold the pen that writes the story we tell ourselves.

Every job seeker is running on a narrative. Most don't realize which one. Vanessa Van Edwards teaches that people operate from one of three internal stories: The Hero, The Healer, or The Victim. These narratives shape how you see yourself, how you interpret setbacks, and how you show up in your search. Here's how each one plays out: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗼 𝗡𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 Your story sounds like: "I've worked hard. I've overcome challenges. I earned my success." In your job search, this shows up as resilience and self-direction. You take ownership, keep moving, and stay motivated by progress. Watch-outs: You might struggle to ask for help. You may tie your identity so tightly to achievement that rejection feels personal. Rest can feel like failure. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝗡𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 Your story sounds like: "My value comes from helping others." In your job search, this shows up as loyalty, empathy, and being an incredible teammate. You're often drawn to service-oriented roles and you genuinely care about the people around you. Watch-outs: You may say yes to roles that drain you because you want to be useful. You might put everyone else's needs ahead of your own search. Burnout is a real risk. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗩𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗺 𝗡𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 Your story sounds like: "I tried. I failed. The world is against me." In your job search, this shows up as sensitivity to injustice and a deep awareness of what's broken in the hiring process. You see things others miss. Watch-outs: Learned helplessness can creep in. Every rejection confirms the story. It becomes harder to take action because effort feels pointless. Most people aren't choosing their narrative. They're repeating one they learned early and never questioned. Awareness is the first step. Not judgment. Not fixing. Just noticing. Which narrative do you default to? How is it showing up in your search right now?

After more than a decade of writing weekly reflections for the communications team at Microsoft (500 total emails, 400,000+ words), I recently had time to look back at all of them and think about the things I've learned since committing to this process. These are my top 5 learnings: 1) Repetition is the mother of all learning, and intentional practice and reflection improves skill. I look back at my early emails and spin forward and can see clear changes in both my style and delivery. 2) Audience matters. Starting with a clear sense of who these are for (communicators at Microsoft) has been a great grounding and focus. Over the years, the distribution has expanded – but the writing is immeasurably easier because I have in my head who will be reading it. 3) Having a deadline sharpens the mind. Simply knowing that I will be hitting send on an email kicks off conscious and unconscious thinking and observation – I am not always thinking about what will come next, but I am paying more attention to the world and looking for connections. 4) The work is the work—especially when it’s hard. So, what's the through line? Communications is a stabilizing force and in the hard moments our function shows its real value. 5) Mistakes are where growth lives. And while failure isn’t fun, it’s often where the biggest leaps happen. In this line of work, mistakes are inevitable. What matters is what you do with them. Writing this much will teach you a lot. But mostly, it reminds you that the work of communication is never done—it’s a practice. And like any good practice, it’s where we become who we are. fxs

There's a journaling ritual I return to every autumn. When the leaves begin to fall and something in me knows it's time to let go. It's called Guided Journaling from the Presencing Institute—a set of questions that takes you through the U-journey, from what's dying to what wants to be born. Not "think first, then write." But "put pen to paper and see what emerges." The questions move through layers: What frustrates you most? What energizes you? What does your younger self want to say to you now? What footprint do you want to leave on this planet? What must die for your future to emerge? What seeds of tomorrow are already here? Each question opens a portal to your highest emerging future. Each answer reveals something you didn't know you knew. There's something about writing these questions while surrounded by trees that are literally letting go—shedding what they no longer need—that makes the process embodied. The U-journey mirrors nature's cycles: Of initiation. Letting go. Presencing. Letting come. And Guided Journaling creates the container to move through it consciously. If you're feeling the pull of autumn. — If something in you is ready to shed— If you sense a future trying to emerge but can't quite name it— I recommend this practice. Take 90 minutes. Find a quiet place in nature. Bring pen and paper. Let your hand guide the writing. It's one of the most powerful practices I know for listening to what wants to die and what wants to be born. Especially now. Especially in autumn. What practices do you use to let go and listen for what's emerging? #presencing #journaling #autumn #theoryu #transformation #nature #regeneration

A Framework for Intentional Year-End Reflection ✨ Each December, I step back to assess where I’m heading and what I’m intentionally building. One practice that grounds me is vision writing - projecting myself to 12/31/2026 and journaling in hindsight about the year across career, relationships, wellbeing, and purpose. I learned this at Meta (shout out to Fast Forward Group), and it continues to be a powerful tool for strategic clarity. This year, I’m also thinking about the shift in the Chinese zodiac - from the Year of the Snake (2025) to the Year of the Horse (2026). The Snake invites us into inner work: evolution, shedding what no longer fits, renewal beneath the surface.  The Horse brings a different energy: boldness, galloping forward with clarity and momentum. Together, they offer a powerful metaphor: before we gallop into a new year, what skin still needs shedding? As I look back, also I’m doing an “energy audit” to assess where energy reserves were restored or depleted. I ask myself: 🔹 What activities delivered disproportionate impact? 🔹 What drained time or focus without meaningful return? 🔹 Where did I grow, and where do I need to build capability next? 🔹 Which relationships and initiatives created momentum, and how do I invest in them intentionally? These questions aren’t just reflective, they inform where I plan to focus, delegate, experiment, and lead differently in 2026. If you’re closing out the year with intention, I hope this framework helps you evaluate what to release, and what to boldly pursue in the year ahead ⚡

Reflection is one of the most powerful tools for growth. Yet, its so easy to overlook. I've always asked myself: What’s working? What isn’t? What can I do better? Make this happen: 1. Block Time: Put an hour on your calendar at the end of each month. Treat it as a non-negotiable meeting with yourself. 2. Ask the Right Questions: I use these prompts: • What were my biggest wins this month? • What challenges did I face, and how did I handle them? • What lessons did I learn? • Where did I spend my time, and was it aligned with my goals? • What do I want to do differently next month? 3. Write It Down: There’s something powerful about putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). Documenting your thoughts helps clarify them and gives you something to review later. 4. Set Intentions: Based on your reflection, identify 2-3 priorities for the next month. Keep them actionable and specific. Reflection is about learning from your experiences. It’s about stepping back, recalibrating, and moving forward with intention.

Coaching our stories People can only see as far as their stories will take them; they can only act as far as their narratives will support them. In my work with leaders, I’ve become increasingly focused on how the stories we tell ourselves shape our sense of identity and ultimately impact the quality of our leadership and life. Inspired by the pioneering work of my friend and Leadership Circle colleague, Steve Athey I’m exploring the techniques of narrative coaching and how coaches can help clients tell more expansive and inclusive stories about themselves. Here’s an example illustrating how narrative coaching might unfold with a leader: Background: Sarah is a senior leader at a technology firm, feeling overwhelmed by her responsibilities. She views her leadership style as ineffective, leading to stress and affecting her team’s morale. Despite a strong track record, Sarah struggles with self-doubt and feels disconnected from her passion for innovation. Uncovering Implicit and Explicit Stories: In her narrative coaching sessions, Sarah starts by examining the stories she tells herself about her leadership and life. She realizes she’s internalized a narrative that she must have all the answers and carry the weight of her team’s success or failure alone. This story of extreme self-reliance and constantly proving her worth has become dominant in her life. Recognizing How Stories Shape Identity and Behavior: As Sarah reflects on her beliefs about leadership, it becomes clear that her self-narrative has led her to adopt a controlling, micromanaging style, fearing that any team mistake reflects on her own competence and value. Understanding the Construction of Stories: Together with her coach, Sarah explores the origins of her leadership narrative. They identify societal expectations and past experiences that have shaped and reinforced her beliefs. By recognizing these stories as constructs, Sarah begins to question their validity and usefulness. Self-Authoring: Encouraged to imagine an expanded leadership identity, Sarah starts crafting a narrative that aligns with her values of collaboration, innovation, and trust. She envisions leading a team where mistakes are seen as learning opportunities rather than failures. Putting it into Practice: Sarah implements practices that support her new narrative, such as forming collaborative project teams, encouraging open feedback, and celebrating innovative efforts regardless of immediate success. She also begins holding monthly reflection sessions with her team to share successes and learn from challenges, fostering a culture of growth and innovation. Narrative coaching takes a nuanced approach, focusing on the person within their context rather than prescribing change. It highlights the interplay of identity, story, and behavior as a pathway to transformation.

Narrative analysis has always been a powerful tool in UX - an invitation to understand users through their own words. But in today’s research landscape, stories don’t just live in isolated interviews or open-text survey fields. They appear at scale: in social media threads, support tickets, app store reviews, and feedback forms. To keep up, narrative analysis has evolved. It now blends the qualitative richness we rely on with the precision and scalability of advanced statistical methods. One promising approach is Digital Story Grammar (DSG), which breaks user narratives into subject-verb-object structures. By mapping these grammatical roles, we can quantify how users describe themselves, their actions, and their sense of control, surfacing patterns in agency, frustration, or empowerment that might otherwise stay hidden. Another method, narrative reversal detection, uses sentiment analysis tools like VADER to track emotional shifts over time. It allows us to spot the moments where a user journey turns - when delight becomes friction, or confusion gives way to clarity. These reversals aren’t just emotional - they’re often the points where product experiences succeed or fail. Time series narrative analysis helps us understand how stories evolve. Instead of treating narratives as static, it captures changes in themes, tone, or framing across time - making it especially useful for analyzing dynamic environments like social media or rolling user feedback during product launches. Keyness analysis is another powerful lens. It compares word frequencies across corpora - for example, before and after a redesign - to highlight emerging terms or shifts in discourse. It can show, statistically, what’s become more prominent, what’s dropped out, and what new pain points or delights have surfaced. Of course, some of the most insightful work happens when we combine methods. Hybrid approaches, like Deep Narrative Analysis, integrate topic modeling with grounded theory. Statistical patterns help surface dominant themes, while qualitative interpretation provides depth and context. Similarly, frameworks like Staged Narrative Analysis give structure to complex stories - dividing them into phases like orientation, evaluation, and contrast - while still leaving room to incorporate frequency counts, sentiment scoring, or temporal tracking at each step.

We like to think we believe things because they’re true. But more often, we believe them because they’re useful. That’s why myths like “Napoleon was short” or “Einstein failed math” survive long after the evidence disappears. These stories reinforce narratives we want to be true—narratives about resilience, underdogs, insecurity, grit, or the possibility of greatness despite early setbacks. In behavioral science, this is one of the most under-discussed forces shaping collective belief: We cling to ideas that are simple, emotionally satisfying, easy to imagine, and repeated often. And in leadership, hiring, marketing, and brand strategy, this matters more than we admit. Because once a narrative delivers self surving value—— we rarely go back and fact-check it. And Familiarity starts to feel like credibility. And Coherence feels like truth. That’s how historical myths become modern mental models. So here’s the question worth asking: Which narratives in your industry are still shaping decisions—not because they’re accurate, but because they’re emotionally convenient? And how would your strategy change if you separated the comforting stories from the real signals? Curiosity—and a little skepticism—might be one of the most underrated leadership skills we have.

“Changing the world for the better and for the long term raises fundamental questions: How do we design our societies? How do we treat and support each other? What do we see as normal? Why?” This outstanding report from Heard – organisation explore what it would really take for narrative change to have more real-world impact in the UK. And why shifting policy or practice without shifting the stories underneath will always be fragile. A few themes stand out: 1️⃣ Narratives shape what feels possible Narratives aren’t slogans or comms tactics. They’re the deep, often invisible stories that organise how we make sense of the world - who belongs, who is responsible, what is deserved, what is “just the way things are”. As the report reminds us, narratives are built over time and reinforced everywhere: media, culture, politics, everyday conversation. Change them, and the ground beneath decisions begins to move. 2️⃣ This is long-term, relational work One of the strongest messages is that narrative change doesn’t behave like a campaign. It doesn’t fit neatly into short funding cycles or tidy logic models. It depends on trust, collaboration, lived experience, and persistence often working beneath the surface for years before anything visibly shifts. 3️⃣ Capacity matters as much as insight The UK has no shortage of good research and intention. What’s missing is shared infrastructure: skills, confidence, funding approaches, creative partnerships, and space for civil society to turn theory into practice together. Without that, narrative work risks staying abstract - interesting, but disconnected from action. 4️⃣ Stories shift power, not just opinion Perhaps most importantly, the report keeps returning to power. Narrative change isn’t only about changing minds; it’s about changing whose voices are heard, whose experiences count, and whose futures feel imaginable. It’s a reminder that lasting change rarely starts with solutions. It starts with the stories we’re living inside and whether we’re brave enough to rewrite them, together.