An unpopular opinion.

I sometimes wonder whether modern society has become so focused on the self… that we are accidentally making ourselves miserable.

Not because mental health is not real.
Not because anxiety isn’t real.
Not because burnout isn’t real.

But because the modern world has created an almost relentless focus on the internal self.

How do I feel?
Am I fulfilled?
Is this relationship meeting my needs?
Am I triggered?
Am I regulated?
Am I happy?
Am I healing?
Am I choosing myself enough?

At what point does self-awareness quietly become self-absorption?

And before people panic — no, I am not anti-therapy.
I am not anti-boundaries.
I am not anti-growth.
I am not suggesting people stay in abusive relationships or ignore serious mental health struggles.
I simply think we are living through a cultural swing where the pendulum may have gone too far in one direction.

And I see it everywhere.

The other day my teenage daughter and her friends were in the car debating which anxiety medication they’re on.

Not whispering. Not cautiously. Casually.

As though anxiety itself has become part of teenage identity.

And maybe that should concern us a little. Not because teenagers are weak. But because we are raising an entire generation to monitor themselves constantly. To analyse every feeling. Label every discomfort. Pathologise every difficult season. Interrogate every relationship. Protect themselves from anything emotionally demanding.

Somewhere along the line, resilience became confused with self-abandonment. Commitment became confused with settling. Sacrifice became confused with dysfunction.

So now many people are trapped in an exhausting cycle of emotional self-surveillance.

Every interaction is measured against personal fulfilment. Every relationship is evaluated through emotional return on investment. Every difficult season becomes evidence that something is “wrong.”

But life has always involved discomfort.

Relationships are difficult. Parenting is difficult. Marriage is difficult. Friendship is difficult. Leadership is difficult. People disappoint each other. People misunderstand each other. People fail each other. Human beings are complicated.

Yet modern culture increasingly teaches us that if something consistently frustrates us, drains us, triggers us, or fails to perfectly meet our emotional needs… perhaps we should walk away from it.

And while sometimes that is absolutely necessary, I also think we need to ask a harder question:

What happens to society when nobody develops the capacity to stay?

To stay in discomfort long enough to grow. To stay in relationships long enough to repair. To stay committed long enough to mature. To stay accountable long enough to change.

Because not every uncomfortable feeling is trauma. Not every hard relationship is toxic. Not every emotional burden means you are being violated.

Sometimes you are simply being human.

Ironically, I think this hyper-focus on the self may actually be increasing anxiety rather than reducing it.

Previous generations often had less language for their emotions — which came with enormous problems of its own.

But they also had less obsession with themselves.

Their attention was outward: community, family, responsibility, purpose, survival, contribution.

Today many people are mentally trapped inside themselves all day long.

Constantly assessing. Constantly curating. Constantly self-monitoring. Constantly asking: “How do I feel about this?” instead of

“What does this moment require from me?”

And perhaps that is why so many people feel emotionally exhausted despite living in the most psychologically aware generation in history.

Awareness alone does not create meaning.

Meaning often comes from contribution.

From responsibility. From connection. From endurance. From being needed. From building things bigger than yourself.

The balance, I think, lies somewhere in the middle.

Mental health matters deeply. Rest matters. Boundaries matter. Healing matters.

But so does resilience. So does responsibility. So does emotional maturity.

So does the ability to tolerate discomfort without collapsing into self-protection every time life becomes hard.

Because if we make personal comfort the highest goal in life, eventually relationships fracture, communities weaken, families become fragile, and people become emotionally unequipped for ordinary human struggle.

And perhaps the real question is not:

“Are we focusing too much on mental health?”

Perhaps the better question is:

Have we forgotten that human beings were never meant to spend this much time thinking about themselves?