Aditi's Monologue

Okay everyone, here’s a delayed post, but a much-needed one – as in, I needed to write this. Let’s discuss Gen Z and Gen Alpha in relation to mental health, shall we? Many years ago, maybe in 2018/2019, I read an article in the Wall Street Journal that said that Millennials are the Therapy Generation. At the time, it made sense to me – we the millennials, were just beginning to open up about mental health, and even the most vague conversation on the subject felt like a small revolution. But today, things have topsy-turvyed into something beautifully mesmerising as well as slightly concerning. Let me explain how.

A few weekends back, while watching a teen movie together with my 13-year-old (Gen Alpha) daughter, we started to discuss a side-but-important-character and her story arc. The character was designed to be annoying, to serve the larger storyline, but felt very one-dimensional, and at one point in the movie, I got so annoyed at such poor character development and/or the lack of a backstory that I blurted, “What even issss her problem!?”

That is when my daughter casually said: “I think she’s written to be emotionally codependent on (name of the main character) and it’s not working.”

I was momentarily stunned.

When I was a teenager, my emotional vocabulary was limited to “Anywayz” (Like Hritik Roshan in his debut movie and yes, major cringe now), “Mah Lyf, Mah Rulez” on Orkut (Yes, cringier), “Whateverrrr” (spoken like Kareena Kapoor from the SRK movie that I’m forgetting the name of right now), and “don’t disturb, I’m reading my Sidney Sheldon.” Today’s kids? They’re out here diagnosing attachment styles casually.

And honestly? I’m impressed. And a little terrified. And sometimes… even concerned.

Because here’s the thing: yes, they have the language. But do they always know what it means?

The Double-Edged Sword of Therapy Speak

We often talk about Gen Z being emotionally articulate, and they are. But boy oh boy, Gen Alpha is coming in even hotter, with analysis, explanations, and sometimes PowerPoint-level detail.

What we’re witnessing is the rise of The Therapy Generation. A generational shift where mental health isn’t whispered about, it’s referenced, memed, joked about, and expected to be taken seriously.

But (and this is important): there’s a difference between understanding mental health and casually throwing around clinical terms.

I’ve heard teens call a moody classmate “bipolar.” I’ve seen “narcissist” used for anyone who posts too many selfies. “Trauma” has become shorthand for “anything mildly uncomfortable.” And the slightest inconvenience of regular human life gets termed as a “panic attack”.

And look, I get it. Language evolves. Slang happens. But when we use clinical terms casually, we risk two things:

1. We trivialize real struggles. Bipolar disorder isn’t moodiness. Narcissistic Personality Disorder isn’t confidence. Trauma isn’t just a bad day. Feeling nervous before a test isn’t a Panic Attack. Most of the above need a professional diagnosis. (I mean all the above most generically, of course – don’t want to offend someone here!)
2. We lose precision. If everything is trauma, nothing is. If everyone’s a narcissist, the word loses meaning when we actually need it.

So yes, Gen Z and Gen Alpha are The Therapy Generation. They talk about mental health more openly than any generation before. And that’s powerful.

But with that power comes responsibility: to learn the difference between emotional awareness and armchair diagnosis. Between naming your feelings and labeling everyone else’s disorders.

And one thing I’ve intuitively known as a parent and learned professionally during my studies of Therapy and Neuroscience is: Therapy language is a tool. But like any tool, it works best when used correctly.

Why They Talk About Mental Health More (And Why That’s Mostly Good)

1. They Grew Up With Language We Didn’t Have

Millennials like me discovered therapy through movies, whispered conversations, or epic burnouts. It was still a taboo topicc.

Gen Z discovered therapy through YouTube, Instagram, and podcast therapists. And then there’s Gen Alpha, who inherited that vocabulary from Day 1.

We millennials tiptoed around feelings. They name them, color-code them, and sometimes send memes about them. Now, we are learning with them.

This access to emotional vocabulary gives them something powerful: permission. And presence. And perspective.

The challenge? Making sure they’re using that vocabulary thoughtfully, not just performatively.

2. They’re Driven by Honesty, Not Performance

The teen era used to be about looking cool. Now it’s about looking real.

A Gen Z intern once said during a Teams brainstorm, “Guys, I need a 5-minute mental break or I’ll zone out.”

Not dramatic. Not rude. Just honest.

My daughter will say, “Mumma, I need 10 minutes of chill time,” and walk away with full confidence. Meanwhile, I’m still learning to take leaves and/or breaks without guilt.

Gen Z and Gen Alpha’s version of rebellion is emotional transparency.

And when done well? That’s revolutionary.

3. Their Emotional Landscape Is Tougher (Yes, Really)

Growing up online sounds fun until you realize that they’ve had to navigate:

• A pandemic during formative years
• Constant global crises on their feeds
• Hyper-comparison culture (everyone’s highlight reel, all the time)
• Academic pressure + digital pressure + social pressure, simultaneously
• Algorithms feeding them comfort and chaos in equal measure

Gen Z absorbed it. Gen Alpha was born into it.

If I had infinite scroll at age 12, I’d need a therapist sooner, probably.

But here’s where it gets tricky: when your entire peer group is using therapy language, it’s easy to pathologize normal human emotions. Feeling sad isn’t always depression. Being nervous isn’t always anxiety. Sometimes, feelings are just… feelings. And that’s okay too.

4. Therapy Isn’t Taboo; It’s a Life Skill

To older generations, therapy was a last resort. To these kids? It’s maintenance.

My daughter and I once watched a fantastic gameplay stream for Call of Duty, which was flawless, really, and she said, “This is healing my inner child.”

Inner child. At 13.

Meanwhile, I rediscovered my inner child… um…in my mid-thirties.

For them, therapy isn’t about fixing. It’s about understanding.

Gen Z and Gen Alpha see emotional literacy the way we see phone chargers: essential.

But (and I say this as someone trained to be a therapist): there’s a difference between being emotionally literate and thinking you’re qualified to diagnose your friends. Self-awareness is powerful. Self-appointed diagnosis? Not so much.

5. They’re Teaching Us How to Be Better Humans

There are days I’m low-key talking about a stressful day at work and my daughter replies with: “Mumma, try that grounding thing you taught me.”

Touché.

And on the topic of Gen Z and Gen Alpha mental health, things are slightly different but not really, at my professional place. Because at work, Gen Z team members challenge patterns that desperately need challenging. They ask “why?” They question archaic systems. They call out unhealthy behavior. They set boundaries like trained diplomats.

[I wrote about working with Gen Z in detail, and I’d love it if you’d give that a read as well, btw.]

The therapy generation becomes the therapy teachers.

When they get it right? They’re changing workplace culture, parenting norms, and how we talk about emotions in public spaces.

When they get it wrong? They’re learning. And honestly, that’s still better than the silence we millennials grew up with.

My Takeaway (With a side of nuance)

Listen, I’m still learning and I am aware that my view on therapy will also evolve wiht time. But as of today, my takeaway is this: Gen Z and Gen Alpha talk about mental health more than any generation before… because they have to, and because they’re finally allowed to.

They’re breaking a silence our generation lived inside. They’re rejecting emotional repression. They’re choosing introspection over image. They’re creating a world where vulnerability isn’t weakness, it’s literacy.

But let’s also be real: with great vocabulary comes great responsibility. (saying it again for emphasis and also because I can’t resist sneaking in Spider-Man references.)

Knowing the words “trauma,” “narcissism,” and “gaslighting” doesn’t make you a therapist. Using them casually can dilute their meaning and trivialize real suffering.

So here’s my hope for The Therapy Generation:

Keep talking about mental health. Keep normalizing it. Keep breaking the stigma.

But also: Learn the difference between emotional awareness and diagnosis. Between naming your experience and labeling someone else’s disorder. Between therapy speak and actual therapy.

They’re not too sensitive. They’re self-aware.

They’re not attention-seeking. They’re asking for attention to be paid.

And if we guide them, not shut them down, but guide them, toward precision, empathy, and nuance?

They won’t just be The Therapy Generation.

They’ll be the generation that finally got mental health right.

If you enjoyed this article, connect with me on LinkedIn, Medium, Substack, X, and/or Instagram for more musings on mental health, parenting, and navigating the digital age.