leomonwell

[leomonwell]

When Mental Health Becomes a Hashtag

Mental illness is real. But lately, I’ve been wondering: is it also becoming a brand?

I’m Leo MonWell, a licensed therapist with over a decade in this field. I’ve watched mental health awareness shift drastically in recent years—especially after 2020. And while so much of that shift has been good, I’m starting to feel uneasy about some of the ways it’s being handled.

Depression and anxiety used to be things people whispered about. Now, they’re on sweatshirts, TikToks, and influencer captions. I’m not mad about visibility. But I am concerned about authenticity.

Are we helping people heal? Or are we selling sadness?

I’ve seen posts that feel more like branding strategies than cries for support. I’ve seen people build entire online identities around a diagnosis. And I keep thinking: are we helping or exploiting? Are we being real, or are we performing?

I’m not pointing fingers. I’m just asking the question.

If mental health is the new pop culture wave—we need to ask where it’s leading us. Because our healing journeys deserve more than hashtags.

Leave your thoughts. I want to know what you’re seeing, feeling, and experiencing in this space.

[leomonwell]

Zip Code Determines Your Success? Let’s Talk.

This one's hard.

I want to believe that effort alone drives success. That grit and hustle will take you anywhere. That “if you want it bad enough, you’ll get it.”

But I’ve seen the other side. And statistically—being born in the right zip code matters. Big time.

If your parents had money, access, or connections, chances are—your path to success started years before you took your first step. That’s just reality.

Look at generational wealth. Look at who gets the best schools, the most forgiving safety nets, the top internships, or the early funding for a business. It’s not just about who works the hardest. It’s about who had a head start.

Still, I would never downplay the value of hard work. I’ve seen people build from nothing. I’ve seen underdogs win. But they had to fight 10x harder just to get to the starting line.

If you're hustling toward your dream—keep going. But let’s also tell the truth: The system isn’t fair. Success isn’t equally accessible. And zip codes tell more about someone’s future than resumes ever will.

I wanna hear your thoughts. Did privilege shape your path—or did you have to fight your way here?

Let’s talk. Let’s heal. Let’s build better.

[leomonwell]

The Fear Behind the Hustle: What We’re Really Running From

Hustle culture isn’t just about working hard. It’s about why we work so hard—and what we’re afraid will happen if we stop.

As a Black therapist, I see this all the time. In my community. In my clients. In myself.

We’re not always taught to enjoy life—we’re taught to hustle through it. Whether you're from an immigrant family, grew up in an inner-city neighborhood, or you’re part of a community that’s historically been pushed to the margins, that hustle becomes second nature.

But I’ve been thinking about what’s underneath it. And I keep coming back to fear.

We’re scared of what happens if we don’t make it. Scared we’ll waste time. Scared someone else will get the opportunity we missed. Scared our ancestors’ sacrifices will be in vain.

But here’s the thing: The person chilling on the beach, feeling the breeze and not in a rush? They’re not hustling. And they’re not scared. They’ve tapped into something deeper—something most of us haven’t been given permission to feel.

That’s peace.

So I’m asking myself—and you—this question today: Are we hustling because we love the dream? Or because we’re terrified of standing still?

Let’s unpack it together. I want to hear your thoughts. Because these conversations help us move from survival to healing.

[leomonwell]

Are You in Love—Or Just in a Habit?

Let’s call it what it is: Sometimes we don’t stay because we’re in love. We stay because we’re used to it.

Whether it’s a job, a partner, a friendship, or a routine—we often cling to what’s familiar, not what’s fulfilling. It starts off with love, yes. With excitement, with purpose, with joy. But over time? We settle into patterns. We normalize being half-seen. We convince ourselves that showing up every day means we care.

But here’s the truth: You can love a routine more than the relationship.

I’ve seen so many people trapped in cycles—still going to the same job that makes them sick. Still texting the same person who ghosted their emotional needs. Still showing up to the same relationships, hoping the rhythm will eventually become a song again.

But consistency without care isn’t love. It’s habit.

The hardest part? Breaking that habit. Choosing to walk away from something just because it’s comfortable—even when it no longer brings joy.

You are allowed to outgrow your patterns. You are allowed to leave comfort zones. You are allowed to choose joy over familiarity.

Don’t stay stuck in love that doesn’t love you back. You weren’t made to live in a cycle of toleration. You were made to thrive where you’re celebrated.

Let’s break the habit.

[leomonwell]

The Myth (and Truth) About Unconditional Love

Let’s be honest for a second: Do you really believe in unconditional love?

I’ve gone back and forth on this over the years. As a therapist, I’ve worked with couples, families, and individuals who desperately want to believe in love without boundaries. And I’ve seen that idea both save relationships—and destroy people.

Because what does “unconditional” really mean?

Does it mean loving someone even after they betray you? Even after they hurt you? Even after they forget how to love you back?

For many, the answer is yes. For others, it’s no—and that doesn’t make them wrong. It makes them real.

Here’s the truth no one likes to say out loud: Most love has conditions. And that’s okay. Conditions can be healthy. Boundaries can be love. Saying “I can’t love you the same way if you hurt me like this” isn’t failure—it’s self-protection.

We’ve all seen it:

A friend devastated by infidelity

A parent-child relationship broken by addiction and pain

A partner who stays through violence in the name of “unconditional love”

At what point does love stop being love—and start being sacrifice?

Maybe unconditional love exists. Maybe it’s rare. Maybe it’s sacred. But maybe it also hurts more people than it helps—when we misunderstand what it’s asking of us.

So I want to know: What do you think? Is your love unconditional—or is it built on values you hold close?

Let’s start the conversation.

[leomonwell]

Did I Choose Depression—or Did It Choose Me?

Let’s get real for a moment.

I’ve heard so many people—clients, family, even strangers online—ask a tough question:

“Is depression something I chose?”

That question comes from somewhere deep. Somewhere painful. Because if we believe that we chose it, it’s easier to believe we can just unchoose it. But what if that belief is doing more harm than good?

Here’s what I’ve learned after a decade of being a therapist:

Depression isn’t weakness. It isn’t laziness. And it definitely isn’t a decision.

It’s a condition. A complex, messy one that grows out of so many places—our genetics, our trauma, our environment, our culture, even the way we were raised.

Sure, we might have tools to manage it. But the shame that comes with believing you chose your pain? That’s heavy.

We don’t need shame. We need support. We need language that’s compassionate, not condemning.

So I’m asking you: Have you ever been told that your mental health is your fault? Do you believe we’re in control of how we feel all the time?

I’d love to hear your story. Let’s create space for honesty. Not everything we feel is our choice—but how we heal… that is.

[leomonwell]

Is That a Good Deed—or a Brand Strategy?

Let’s be real. We’ve all seen it: a good deed recorded, edited, posted, and captioned for the world to see.

And listen—I’m not against sharing moments of kindness. Visibility inspires. But I am interested in intention.

Are we helping because someone needs us? Or because we want someone to see us?

I’ve been sitting with this question lately, and as a therapist, I ask it a lot: What’s the “why” behind our “what”?

You helped the elderly woman with her bags. Amazing. But what if there was no camera? What if no one ever found out?

Would you still have helped?

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer here. Some people do good from a deep place of love. Some perform it to be liked, followed, or praised. And many are somewhere in between.

But if we’re going to build a more compassionate world, we have to examine how our egos show up in our empathy.

I wanna know your thoughts: Do you believe people do good for good’s sake? Or have we turned kindness into content?

Reblog. Comment. Message me. Let’s reflect on what it means to be genuinely good.

Because a kind heart never needs a spotlight.

[leomonwell]

When Trauma Doesn't Make You Stronger—Just Better at Pretending

Let’s be real for a minute. Trauma doesn’t always build strength. Sometimes, it builds silence.

Sometimes it builds isolation. Sometimes it builds a version of you who’s so good at smiling that people stop asking if you’re okay.

As a therapist, I hear people say, “I’m stronger now because of what I went through.”

And sometimes, they really mean it. They’ve done the inner work. They’ve healed. They’ve grown.

But other times, “strength” is just code for “I don’t cry in front of people anymore.”

It’s code for, “I’m used to the pain now, so I don’t flinch.”

And that’s not the same thing.

We live in a culture that celebrates survival but doesn’t always support healing. We throw around words like “resilient” and “strong,” but what if strength isn’t always strength?

What if it’s just the armor we learned to wear?

I want to know—what’s been your experience?

Has your trauma truly made you stronger? Or has it just made you better at pretending?

There’s no shame in either answer. There’s only honesty. And honesty is where healing starts.

Drop me a reply. Reblog this. Let’s talk about it.

Because pretending is lonely. But you're not alone.

[leomonwell]

Selfish… or Just Tired of Betrayal?

Are we selfish by nature—or just worn down by betrayal?

It’s a question I’ve been sitting with lately. As a therapist with over 10 years of experience, I’ve seen how betrayal—whether personal, relational, or systemic—can shape how we move through the world.

You stop trusting. You start protecting. And before long, you’re labeled “selfish” when all you’re trying to do is survive.

If we go back—way back—to the story of Adam and Eve, the first act of betrayal sets the tone: Lies. Manipulation. Consequences.

So is it any wonder that generations later, we’re still building walls around our hearts? Is it really selfishness… Or is it our nervous system screaming, “Not again”?

I’ve come to believe this: Many people aren’t selfish. |They’re tired. They’re guarding the last few pieces of themselves because betrayal taught them not everyone deserves access.

So the next time someone seems distant, unavailable, or protective of their time, ask this:

Are they being cruel… or cautious?

And for yourself: Are you pulling away because you’re selfish—or because you’ve been hurt too many times?

Either way, you deserve compassion. So do they.

Let me know what you think. Reblog. Message me. Let’s have the real convo.

[leomonwell]

Abusive Parents: Do They Deserve Forgiveness—or Just Distance?

Let’s be real: Forgiving your abusive parent is one of the most emotionally complicated conversations anyone can have. And I’m not here to sugarcoat it.

As a therapist—and as someone who has seen this story play out more times than I can count—I know that not all wounds get cleaned up with an apology. Because sometimes the apology never comes.

So then what?

Do you forgive anyway… because that’s what healing is “supposed” to look like? Or do you choose distance—physical, emotional, spiritual—because that’s what actually helps you breathe?

You don’t owe anyone access to your peace, especially not someone who’s spent years disrupting it.

And yet, society still tries to guilt us into honoring parents who abused us, belittled us, neglected us, and called it love. No. You get to decide what healing looks like for you.

Forgiveness may be a part of it. Or it may not. Maybe your form of healing is saying, “I love myself enough to keep you out of my life.”

And if that’s where you are? I honor that.

So if you’re a survivor, I want to ask you: What’s been more helpful for you—forgiveness or distance?

Reblog. DM. Comment. Let’s talk about what healing really looks like.

You don’t have to go through it alone.

[leomonwell]

Self-Love or Selfishness? Let’s Talk About the Line We’re Crossing

Has “self-love” turned into a socially acceptable way to disconnect from others?

I’m not judging. I’m observing. And I’m wondering—out loud—if we’ve started to confuse healing with hoarding.

I’m Leo MonWell, therapist, coach, and someone who’s walked with people through deep emotional recovery for over ten years.

Self-love used to mean reclaiming space after being stretched too thin. But in 2025, it sometimes feels like it’s being used to avoid relationships altogether.

We say things like:

“I’m focusing on me.”

“I don’t have the energy for others.”

“I’m setting boundaries.”

And all of those things are valid—when they come from a place of truth, not trauma.

But when self-love turns into emotional hiding, or when “boundaries” become walls we build so high that no one gets in… we lose what love is really about.

Because real love—even love for yourself—includes accountability. It includes reflection. It includes the capacity to show up, not just for you, but for the people you care about.

So my question is:

Are we healing, or are we isolating?

Are we growing, or are we avoiding?

Drop your take. Reblog. Message me. Let’s have this conversation—because this one matters.

[leomonwell]

Ghosting: When Silence Becomes Self-Defense

Is ghosting heartless… or just necessary?

I’m a therapist with over ten years in the mental health field, and I want to open a space for us to talk honestly about this:

When someone ignores your boundaries, talks over your voice, or pushes beyond your comfort—what are you supposed to do?

Sometimes, people choose to ghost. They disappear. No confrontation. No closure. Just clean silence.

And yes—that silence hurts. But sometimes, it’s the only path back to self-respect.

I’ve seen ghosting used as a defense mechanism when all other communication failed. But I’ve also seen it become a pattern—where people avoid accountability and run from difficult emotions.

So maybe the real question is: Are you ghosting to protect yourself… Or to avoid yourself?

Ghosting isn’t black and white. It’s a shade of grey that depends on the intentions, the trauma, and the relationship history behind it.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Have you ghosted? Been ghosted? Was it cruel—or did it save you?

Reblog, reply, and drop a thought for tomorrow’s question of the day.

[leomonwell]

Success: Effort or Environment?

Let me ask you something that might make you a little uncomfortable:

Is success really about hard work? Or is it just about being born in the right zip code?

This question hit me hard this week, especially thinking back to all the clients I’ve worked with over the last ten years—folks who hustled hard, fought like hell, and still found themselves stuck in systems that weren’t made for them.

We’re told that success is about mindset. Discipline. Drive. But what about access?

What about people who never even get a seat at the table, let alone a plate?

We glorify “bootstraps” in this country. But we never ask: who even had boots to start with?

And yet… I’ve also seen willpower break barriers. I’ve watched people rewrite the script—people who were never supposed to “make it” but did.

So maybe it’s not either/or. Maybe success is a collision of effort and environment.

Still, we’ve got to stop lying to ourselves and to each other. If we want real conversations about wellness, fulfillment, and purpose, we have to be honest about where the race even begins.

So, what do you think?

Did you get where you are because you pushed? Because of where you were planted? Or both?

Reblog. Reply. Let’s go deeper.

[leomonwell]

Is Mental Illness Becoming a Brand?

Some of y’all might not like this question—but I’m going to ask it anyway:

Are we branding our mental illness?

I’ve spent the last ten years watching how we talk about mental health—publicly, privately, and online. And I can’t help but notice… we’ve entered an era where our diagnoses don’t just live in therapy sessions. They live in our bios. They show up in memes. They become part of our personal brands.

And listen—I’m all for destigmatizing mental health. But when do we cross the line from awareness to aesthetic?

We post our breakdowns in curated filters. We wear “anxious” as a quirky personality trait. We turn trauma into relatable reels and trauma dumping into content.

Sometimes it feels like we’ve turned healing into a hustle.

Do you feel that too?

I’m not here to shame anybody. If you’ve shared your mental health journey online—I honor that. But I want us to reflect: Are we being vulnerable… or performative? Are we creating space for healing… or feeding the algorithm?

Because there’s a big difference between owning your truth and selling your suffering.

This blog isn’t an answer—it’s a mirror. And I’m inviting you to look in it with me.

If you’ve got thoughts, stories, pushback, or praise—I want to hear it. Drop it in the replies or reblog with your take. I’m listening. Always.

[leomonwell]

Is Openness Intimacy or Avoidance? Let’s Talk.

Every time someone brings up open relationships, the conversation either gets really loud—or really silent.

So I’ll be the one to ask what some of us are already thinking: Are open relationships a sign of freedom, or fear?

I’m not talking about romantic openness—I'm talking sexual openness. When we allow ourselves or our partners to explore others physically… is that a sign of radical love? Or is it a way to dodge the deep, uncomfortable work that intimacy demands?

Here’s why I’m asking: Intimacy is not easy. Letting someone get close enough to hurt you? That takes courage. And in a world where many of us are still healing from betrayal, trauma, and abandonment…sometimes it’s easier to keep one foot out the door.

Sometimes we turn to openness not to explore more, but to feel less.

But that’s not always the case. For others, open love is full-bodied love. It says: I trust you. I want you to experience pleasure. And I don’t need to be your everything.

It’s vulnerable. Raw. Honest. Even sacred.

So where do we draw the line between expansion and escape?

That’s the question I’m sitting with today.

And if you’ve ever been in—or considered—an open relationship, I’d love to know: Did it bring you closer to your partner… or further from real intimacy?

Reply. Reblog. Vent in the tags. This is your safe space to unpack what love means to you.

[leomonwell]

Monogamy, Love, and the Lie We Keep Telling Ourselves

I’m gonna be real with you—this topic’s been sitting heavy on my spirit.

Monogamy. The supposed gold standard of relationships. The Disney ending. The “one person forever” storyline.

But I’m asking a question that might ruffle a few feathers: Were humans even meant to be monogamous?

We idealize it. We idolize it. We’re taught from childhood that true love = exclusivity.

But when I step outside of Western conditioning and look at other cultures, historical structures, and even the animal kingdom…

Monogamy starts to feel a little more like programming than instinct.

I watched a documentary about animals who only mate for one season. They love. They raise. They release.

Could that be us, too? Is it wrong if it is?

I’ve talked to clients who feel guilt, shame, or even failure because they couldn’t maintain a lifelong monogamous connection. But maybe it wasn’t about failure.

Maybe it was about change. Maybe it was about being human. Maybe their love evolved—and that should be okay.

I’m not here to bash monogamy. I’m just here to question the rigidity of it.

What if love is more expansive than we’ve allowed it to be?

As a therapist, I want to know: What do you think about monogamy, polyamory, and everything in between?

Reblog. Comment. Message me. Let’s challenge what we thought we knew about love.

[leomonwell]

Is Hustle Culture Just Fear in a Hoodie?

Let’s be honest.

Hustle culture looks good in quotes. “Grind now, shine later.” “Work while they sleep.” “Don’t stop ‘til you’re proud.”

But after years of listening to people’s stories—clients, colleagues, friends—I’m starting to see a different truth:

Most of us aren’t hustling because we’re passionate. We’re hustling because we’re afraid.

Afraid of not being enough. Afraid of being broke. Afraid of what it means to slow down. Afraid of the silence that comes with stillness.

And I get it. I really do.

Some of us come from homes, neighborhoods, or systems where survival was the only option. We didn’t hustle because it was trendy—we hustled because it was the only way we knew how to survive.

But now? In our adult lives? We still wear that hustle like armor, even when no one's shooting.

So I’m asking a deeper question:

What would it look like to rest without guilt? To grind from love—not lack?

I want to hear your take.

As a therapist, I’m obsessed with understanding why people do what they do and choose what they choose. Your insight matters here.

Tell me: Is hustle culture passion—or is it fear dressed in ambition?

Drop your thoughts. Reblog. Follow.