Every crisis has casualties we can’t see. They don’t lie in hospitals; they live in the hearts and minds of children. Healing them must begin now, not after the next storm, war, or extreme bullying, but in every plan, policy, and act of care we devise today. Every child deserves access to mental healthcare, be it growing up in a war zone, living through a crisis, or simply trying to survive school or home.
Childhood shapes everything that follows, and yet we often treat children’s emotions as if they’re small, forgettable moments that will fade with time.
I still remember growing up, a few incidents of bullying, moderate to severe, left an indelible mark on my mind that shaped my personality as an adult and has stayed with me till date. I can share a ‘little’ incident that happened to me in kindergarten.
I made a painting for my class teacher. My “best friend” snatched it and handed it over as her own work. It wasn’t the painting that hurt me. It was a betrayal. The confusion. The humiliation. I didn’t have the words for it then, but it left a scar on my mind.
Every time I tried to talk about it at home, I was brushed off and told not to brood over “something so small.” But that “small” moment planted the seeds of trust issues and reduced my self-esteem. Thereafter, I never found the courage to share things with my parents or teachers because of this little, ‘insignificant’ incident.
Later in life, I realised this is something many parents forget: their child matters more than the expectations they place on them. I wasn’t good at math, and I didn’t crack NEET, a medical entrance exam, but even when I performed well, I was still made to feel like I wasn't good enough.
When I began advocating for mental health, people said it was an excuse for not getting into medical school. Relatives, teachers, even my own parents dismissed it. Still, I kept going. It took years of consistent work before my parents finally understood what I was dealing with, what I needed, and why mental health matters so deeply to me. Now they openly support me in my work.
Childhood is delicate and sensitive. The little brains are actively perceiving and processing every tiny detail that adults miss. Trust, fear, anger, self-confidence, all of these take shape early, often at a time when adults assume kids are too young to understand anything real. But children notice and absorb everything in the subconscious brain. And when they’re invalidated, ignored, or pressured, the damage settles quietly in their minds and lasts long.
Today, the situation is even more complex. Children are facing peer pressure and competition at tiring levels. Many are dealing with online and offline bullying. Some are pushed so hard by academic, social, and emotional expectations that they sink into exhaustion and mental health struggles without anyone noticing.
We’ve seen rising cases of anxiety, depression, and even suicide among children and teenagers. And while all of this is happening, we still act like children don’t break the way adults do. And then there are children in crisis zones facing war, displacement, disasters, survivor’s guilt, and extreme insecurity.
These children lose homes, schools, and family members. Their entire sense of safety shatters, and their emotional wounds remain invisible. It scares me to think about their mental health and traumas, and how invalidated and suppressed their emotions are in a gruesome environment.
Mental healthcare must be a non-negotiable part of every crisis response, from schools to disaster relief to conflict zones. It needs to sit alongside food, shelter, and medicine in every emergency kit. We cannot keep treating mental health as an optional extra.
Children process trauma differently. They may not talk about it, but it shows up in withdrawal, aggression, or fear. What they need is care that’s consistent, community-based, and culturally sensitive. If we want healthier children and healthier societies, we have to start early.
Train parents. Train teachers. Train healthcare workers and humanitarian responders. Create safe spaces in schools. Normalize basic counselling. Teach children that their feelings are valid. Teach adults how to listen.
Mental health isn't a luxury. It’s a necessity. Every child deserves not just a safe childhood, but a supported one. Their minds matter. Their emotions matter. It’s high time our systems reflected that, in policies and in actions.
So this Children's Day, let’s promise children a supported childhood that isn't just physically, but also emotionally healthy.
