Growing up, there were a lot of things I didn't really understand.
No one ever sat me down and told me my parents were getting divorced. I just remember one day realizing my dad wasn't living with us anymore.
There wasn't really a conversation about it. Life just changed.
My mom worked two jobs to take care of me and my siblings, and as I've gotten older, I've understood more about how much she was carrying. My dad gambled and cheated on her, and I know she went through a lot.
I don't want to tell this story in a way that blames her, because I know she was doing what she could to keep us going.
But I was still a kid.
And I was sad.
After my dad moved out, some of my summers were spent getting on a Greyhound bus with two of my siblings to go stay with him. It became part of our life, even though I don't remember anyone ever really asking me how I felt about all of it.
In our family, feelings weren't something we talked about very much.
If I was hurt, lonely, confused, or angry, I mostly kept it to myself.
I don't even think I knew that was what I was doing.
I just learned to keep going.
There is one moment from those years that I still remember so clearly.
I was home one day and feeling really alone. I turned the music up and started dancing.
Not good dancing either.
I was throwing my arms around and just being completely silly because I thought no one could see me.
Then I looked across the way and realized another girl, probably around my age, was watching me from her window.
I was mortified.
For a second I wanted to disappear.
Then she started dancing.
She waved at me, and I started laughing.
So I kept dancing.
It sounds like such a small thing, but I have remembered that moment for years.
Nothing in my life changed that day. My parents were still divorced. My family situation was still complicated. I still had feelings I didn't know what to do with.
But for a few minutes, I didn't feel so alone.
Someone saw me.
I think about that a lot when I think about teenagers and mental health.
Sometimes people think they can tell who is struggling.
I don't think it is always that easy.
Someone can be laughing with friends and still feel lonely.
Someone can be doing well in school and still be overwhelmed.
Someone can answer "I'm fine" because saying what they really feel seems too hard, or because they don't even know how to explain it.
I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling when I was younger.
I just knew some days felt heavier than others.
That is one reason I think adults need to talk to kids before something reaches the point of a crisis.
And not only ask, "How was school?"
Sometimes ask again.
How are you really doing?
Is something bothering you?
Do you want to talk?
And then actually listen.
You don't always have to fix it.
Sometimes being told to "look on the bright side" or "you have so much to be grateful for" can make someone feel like they shouldn't be sad in the first place.
But you can be grateful and still hurt.
I know that now.
I am grateful for my mom.
I know she sacrificed a lot for us. I know she loved us. I also know that there were times when I felt emotionally alone.
Both are true.
I think we need to leave room for that kind of honesty.
Parents are human. Kids are human too.
Sometimes parents are just trying to survive their own hard season and may not realize what their child is quietly carrying.
That doesn't always mean someone failed.
It may simply mean there needed to be more conversation.
When I look back, I still think about that girl in the window.
She didn't know anything about my family.
She didn't know I was having a bad day.
She didn't give me advice.
She just saw me, smiled, and joined me.
And somehow that mattered.
Maybe supporting young people doesn't always begin with knowing exactly what to say.
Maybe sometimes it begins with noticing them.
Sitting beside them.
Asking one more question.
Listening a little longer.
And reminding them, in whatever way we can, that they don't have to carry everything alone.