Behind the Smile: Breaking the Silence on Mental Health, Stigma, and Masking

By Martine Thivierge-Bournival

“How are you?” “I’m fine.” A simple exchange, repeated countless times every day. But how often is “I’m fine” a mask?

As we enter Mental Health Week (May 5–11, 2025), I want to take a moment—not just as an educator, a business owner, or a professional—but as a human being. A woman, a wife, a mother, a daughter, and a person who knows what it’s like to smile while feeling overwhelmed, to lead while feeling like I’m barely holding it together, and to carry the silent weight of masking.

What Is Masking, and Why Do We Do It?

Masking is the act of hiding our true emotions or mental state to appear "okay" to others. It can be subtle—a forced smile, over-preparation, people-pleasing, avoiding eye contact. It can be a carefully crafted persona that says “I’ve got this,” when inside, we’re exhausted or on the verge of breaking.

For many of us, especially those who live with ADHD, anxiety, depression, or neurodivergent traits, masking becomes second nature. We do it to avoid judgment. We do it to fit in. We do it because stigma still tells us that expressing vulnerability is weakness.

But here’s the truth: masking is not sustainable.

It’s emotionally exhausting. It creates disconnects in our relationships. And it often delays the help we so desperately need because we look “fine” on the outside.

My Own Experience: The Cost of Carrying the Mask

For years, I excelled in my roles: teaching, leading, managing, supporting others. But behind closed doors, I felt drained—physically, mentally, emotionally. I masked through meetings, through illness, through stress. I believed I had to show up as “more than okay” because I was supporting others.

But there comes a point when masking becomes a burden we can no longer carry.

In my case, it led to burnout. Not once, but more than once. And each time, I realized that what I needed was not to be stronger—but to be honest. With myself. With my team. With my community.

The Stigma That Keeps Us Silent

Mental health stigma isn’t just about dramatic misconceptions. It’s the quiet, invisible forces that tell us:

• “You should be able to handle this.”

• “Don’t talk about your diagnosis; people will treat you differently.”

• “You’re too emotional. Toughen up.”

• “Don’t ask for accommodations—you’ll look incompetent.”

  
  

These messages are harmful. They keep us from reaching out. They isolate us. They make us feel like we have to earn our right to rest, to cry, or to seek support.

But mental health is health. Full stop. And being human is not a flaw—it’s a fact.

What Needs to Change

Change starts with real, raw, respectful conversations.

We need to normalize not being okay.

We need to recognize that strength looks different for everyone. Strength can be:

• Asking for help.

• Saying “no” to protect your peace.

• Sharing your story.

• Taking a break—even when the to-do list is screaming.

• Advocating for your needs without apology.

  
  

We need to shift from “What’s wrong with you?” to “What happened to you?” and from “How do we fix this?” to “How do we support and include you?”

As someone who works every day to help people succeed—students, professionals, and families—I’ve realized that true success is built on wellness. On being seen. On being heard. On being able to show up as yourself—unmasked.

Mental Health Week: Let’s Unmask Together

Mental Health Week is a chance for all of us to reflect, reset, and recommit to creating a culture of care, empathy, and equity.

I encourage you to visit the mental health week toolkits available on the Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA) website: https://cmha.ca/mental-health-week/toolkits/.

It’s not about promoting a brand—it’s about knowing where to turn for information, inspiration, and support.

Whether you're a student, a parent, a leader, or just someone trying to get through the day—you matter. Your story matters. Your mental health matters.

A Final Word...

To those who are still masking because it feels safer, I see you. I’ve been you. And I want you to know that there is strength in your softness, bravery in your honesty, and healing in your truth.

Let’s keep talking. Let’s keep listening. Let’s unmask—together.