“We Are All Trees” by Hadil Adam

I am like a tree. Strong and rooted — but not unshakeable. Trees go through seasons, and so do I. Each season brings emotions that flood my branches: sadness, anger, happiness, anxiety. Yet still, I stand. Still, I grow.

But for a long time, I didn’t feel like I was growing at all.

I remember a time when life felt like an endless winter. I was constantly tired, sleeping too much or not at all. My eating was never stable — sometimes too little, other times too much. I felt stuck in my body, like it didn’t belong to me. I hated the mirror. I wasn’t skinny, I wasn’t perfect. I thought I could never fit into society. My confidence disappeared, and so did my energy to do anything I once loved. Slowly, my grades slipped. I lost interest in things that used to make me smile. I overthought every word someone said to me, convinced they secretly hated me. I felt paranoid. And the worst part? I kept it all to myself.

I was a tree in winter — stripped of leaves, bare, quiet, and cold.

But I didn’t see it as something serious. I thought, everyone has bad days, right? So I kept wearing my mask — smiling, laughing, joking — while silently falling apart inside. No one knew I was having suicidal thoughts. That I cried alone in my room. That I felt like I wasn’t meant to be here.

Everything changed when a friend named Grace told me about a focus group she wanted to attend — but only if I came with her. I said yes, not thinking much of it. I thought I was doing her a favor. I didn’t realize that saying “yes” would be the first step toward saving myself.

When we arrived, we sat in a circle. People were opening up — saying things I didn’t think were allowed to be said out loud. They talked about their fears, their sadness, their trauma, their healing. It felt… safe. Like I was finally breathing fresh air after being stuck underground. But I didn’t speak that day. I wasn’t ready. And they respected that. No one pushed me. No one made me feel broken. They just welcomed me.

That first meeting was my early spring — not perfect, but warming. I kept going back. By the second or third session, I found myself slowly opening up. I shared small things, then bigger things. I cried. I laughed. I healed. Every week, I learned something new about myself. I realized that what I was feeling wasn’t “just a bad day” — it was a pattern. It was pain that needed care.

In spring, I learn and grow.

In summer, I thrive and shine brightly.

In autumn, I let go of what no longer serves me and hurts me.

In winter, I rest and prepare to bloom again.

That focus group changed everything. It gave me a space to be seen. And more than anything — it gave me community. These strangers became my family. We checked on each other. We supported each other. We reminded each other: you are not alone. Many of us came from cultures where mental health wasn’t discussed, or worse — where it was judged. We were told to be strong, to be quiet, to get over it. But in that room, our silence turned into strength.

Thank you, Grace. You were the light in my winter. You were my guardian angel. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be. You didn’t just invite me to a group — you invited me back into myself. And now, because of that gift, I’m giving back. I write small mental health columns in my school newspaper. I share tips, reminders, and reflections. One student came up to me and said,

“Thank you — I didn’t realize I was going through this until I read what you wrote.” That moment reminded me: even the smallest voice can make a difference.

Physically, I still have days where I’m tired. Emotionally, I still wrestle with anxiety. Healing is not a straight path. But now, I have tools. I know how to breathe through the panic. I know how to reach out instead of shutting down. I know how to rest. I know how to let go.

I’ve grown in ways I never imagined. I try new things. I speak more kindly to myself. I allow myself joy without guilt. I’ve learned that vulnerability is not weakness — it’s courage. And asking for help is not a burden — it’s strength.

We are all trees.

We all have our seasons.

We all have bad days and good days.

But remember — after the harshest winter, spring always comes.