Can I be a Mental Health Influencer?

Yes, I know—it’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? The term “influencer” feels like a product of the very system I’ve been grappling with lately. But the truth is, I don’t think I’m alone in this paradox, and maybe by sharing my own questions and experiences, we can explore some answers together.

We live in an attention economy, where every post, click, and scroll is meticulously designed to hold our focus. Social media doesn’t see us as people—it sees us as products. Coming to terms with that reality has been deeply unsettling for me. It’s like waking up inside a system I didn’t even realize I was part of, one that connects me to the most beautiful aspects of humanity while simultaneously chipping away at my mental health and sense of self.

The Paradox of Social Media

Let’s start with the good. Social media has undeniably given people a voice. According to data, 67% of social media users report feeling a greater sense of community through online platforms, and over 40% say social media has directly connected them to nonprofit causes they support. It’s incredible how people find their “tribes,” support important movements, or raise millions for causes they care about—all from the screens in their hands.

But then there’s the other side. Studies show that excessive social media use is linked to a 66% increase in feelings of loneliness, and rates of depression and anxiety among young people have skyrocketed by 70% over the past decade. Teens now spend an average of 4.8 hours daily on social media, and higher usage correlates with poorer self-esteem and increased suicidal ideation.

These aren’t just numbers; they’re lives. Social media connects us, but it also isolates, alienates, and exhausts us. It’s a conundrum: a tool that can bring out our best selves also has the power to amplify our worst struggles.

For me, this tension is personal. Social media has been a force for good in my life. It’s helped me build businesses, share my art, and connect with a supportive community. But lately, I’ve found myself asking: at what cost? The endless cycle of content, the constant need for validation, and the knowledge that I’m just one data point in a vast algorithm—it’s all begun to feel too heavy.

A Hard Look at Mental Health

If I’m being honest (and vulnerable, because that’s who I am), my mental health has taken a hit. I’ve experienced some of the worst anxiety and depression of my life while trying to keep up with the demands of being “on” all the time. The irony of sharing this struggle on a professional platform isn’t lost on me.

But here’s what gives me hope: awareness is growing. Companies are investing in mental health like never before. The global mental health market is valued at $383 billion, and businesses are recognizing that investing in their employees’ well-being is not just ethical—it’s strategic. For every dollar spent on mental health programs, companies see a 4x return in productivity and reduced absenteeism.

Brands are stepping up in meaningful ways. Microsoft, under CEO Satya Nadella, has launched “Microsoft Cares,” offering employees access to counseling, support groups, and workshops. Rare Beauty, founded by Selena Gomez, dedicates 1% of sales to mental health initiatives through its Rare Impact Fund. Maybelline New York has partnered with the WHO Foundation to expand global mental health services. These initiatives are not just good business—they’re shaping a healthier culture.

Even lifestyle brands like Kate Spade New York are making waves, with their Social Impact Council focusing on women’s mental health. And Happiness Project, a brand founded by Jake Lavin, donates 15% of profits to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. These efforts inspire me because they show that brands can make a difference while building trust and loyalty.

An Ethical Crossroads

But it’s not just about companies. It’s about us as humans. We’re standing at a pivotal moment in history where we have to ask hard questions about the role of technology in our lives. How do we balance the opportunities digital platforms provide with the undeniable toll they take on our mental health? How do we demand accountability and regulation while finding joy and connection online?

These questions weigh on me most when I think about young people—especially young women—who are trying to navigate their identities in a world where social media constantly tells them who they should be. Studies show that 42% of girls feel their appearance is negatively impacted by social media, and this pressure is contributing to a mental health crisis among teenagers. How do we guide them toward authenticity when the algorithms scream so loudly? How do we create space for them to grow into who they are, not who the internet tells them to be?

Hope for a Healthier Future

Despite the heaviness of these questions, I believe in our capacity for change. I’ve seen what happens when people put their phones down and connect face-to-face. I’ve seen art bring people to tears, conversations that heal rifts, and moments of human connection that remind us what really matters.

That future will require creativity, humility, and courage. It will require businesses to lead the way with mental health initiatives, parents to guide their children with compassion, and individuals to take small but meaningful steps—choosing to unplug when necessary, to prioritize their mental well-being, and to connect in real life.

I Don’t Have All the Answers

I don’t pretend to have it all figured out, and I’m not here to preach. I’m here because I care deeply about this world we’re building—about our mental health, about young people trying to find their way, and about the chance to create a healthier, more connected future.

So, can I be a mental health influencer? Maybe not in the traditional sense, but if I can help spark a conversation, connect with others who care about these issues, and explore what’s possible when we prioritize humanity over algorithms, then I’ll count that as a win.

Let’s figure it out together.