Written by Stephanie Hanson

I passionately believe we need to end the stigma around mental health struggles in order to create a society that is more compassionate and more resilient.
It can be hard to admit that we’re struggling, especially in a culture that prioritizes “grit” and rugged independence.
But the more we share our stories, the more we can connect with one another and rise above our challenges.

When I gave birth to my second child, I struggled deeply with postpartum depression. It manifested in unexpected ways: sudden, crippling arachnophobia, bouts of rage, and periods of emotional numbness. I wasn’t working at the time, and the idea of spending money on therapy held me back for almost a year.

On top of that, my husband was working long hours in Northern Virginia. How could I go to therapy with two small children at home? My oldest was just two years old, and my baby screamed constantly.

Eleven months later, I was still struggling, and I realized we needed to figure something out. Around that time, I had just started a business teaching infant parenting classes, of all things. Through a networking group, I found the name of a therapist who specialized in postpartum depression and anxiety. Her office was near my husband’s work and she accepted our insurance. It felt like a sign.

So I made the 50-mile drive once a week. My husband would take his lunch break to stay with the kids while I sat on her couch and poured everything out. She listened, but she also gave me tools and asked insightful questions that helped me understand what I really needed and what I could let go of.

At first, I wasn’t always as open and vulnerable as I needed to be. As a lifelong people- pleaser, I reflexively said I was doing fine whenever she asked. Eventually, I mustered the courage to ask her to phrase it differently because I couldn’t stop myself from giving the “polite” answer.

The day that changed everything was one when I showed up sick with a cold (sorry, H, if I shared my germs that day!). Too exhausted to keep up my mask, I let it drop…and we had a breakthrough.

Over time, she helped me work through those people-pleasing tendencies.
I learned how to set healthy boundaries, how to recognize when anxiety was useful and when it was getting in my way, and how to prioritize self-care not just for myself, but so I could show up better as a mother, spouse, colleague, and leader.

In the past year alone, I’ve said no to three ongoing volunteer commitments that I would have automatically agreed to before. But if I’d said yes, my family and work would have suffered — and the organizations would not have gotten the attention they deserved. That ability to be honest about my capacity is an enormous step I would not have been able to take without my mental health journey.

Four years ago, I had my fourth child. This time I gave birth in the middle of the pandemic. Once again I struggled with postpartum depression. Even though I’d never stopped going to therapy, my therapist supported me in exploring medication with a doctor, and I found an anti-anxiety medication that worked for me. On the hardest days, it helps to have someone who has known me through my journey to remind me how far I’ve come and how many tools I’ve gained.

All of this has made me a better leader. I’m able to model balance and self-care for others. These are qualities celebrated in nearly every leadership book you can find. I’ve learned how to be vulnerable and authentic, no longer tied down by the constant need to please or keep the peace at any cost. And that willingness to be real and present with others is what allows me to connect with and support the people I lead.

I hope that by sharing my story, others feel permission to seek help if they need it, and to know that doing so is not a weakness, but a profound strength. Therapy has been transformative for me, personally and professionally. I wouldn’t be the person or the leader I am today without it.

The Power of Vulnerability and Living Authentically

A Moment of Crisis, A Lifetime of Gratitude