Everyone’s mental health is different. No two people experience their environment in the same way, and so the pressures and difficulties we face at LSE are as diverse as the student body itself. This blog is an exploration of how people from all walks of life approach and understand their mental wellbeing, be it with diagnosable conditions or just dealing with the pressures of university life.
The 2nd and 3rd entries of this blog have covered the more concrete aspects of mental health – namely how our environment impacts the way we think about ourselves. But mental health is not simply a series of explainable responses to easily definable scenarios. We often spend a lot of time in our own head, thinking about more nebulous concepts of self and identity. This is inherently not universal: every person’s view of themselves is unique and informed by infinite different factors.
But, given this uniqueness, are there aspects of identity that are relevant to all of us? Do our differences stop us from facing the same challenges?
These are questions I asked myself throughout a long and honest conversation with a friend who I stayed in the same halls as last year. Fiercely unique and intelligent, her manner fluctuates wildly from flippant and amusing to introspective without a moment’s notice. As two people from very different backgrounds, we find a lot of common ground when discussing our respective senses of self.
As an international student, this week’s interviewee is no stranger to cultural dissonance between where we grow up and where we start our adult lives. She discusses how her local education system has wildly different priorities and points of reference to British education, and how this affects her sense of self. It can be disheartening, she says, to come to an institution where your previous assets have less value, and where cultural homogeneity seems to be a strength. This specific problem was not directly relatable to me: having grown up in England, it isn’t something I would ever have experienced in the same way.
But there is a difference between sharing to someone’s experiences and relating to their emotions. While I cannot relate to my interviewee’s past, I can relate to the impact it has on her mental health: when our values clash with those of the university we attend, it can make us feel insecure. This is something we all feel.
Do I fit in? Am I in the right place for me? Is this university everything I wanted?
All of these questions are manifestations of tension between our sense of self and the identity of the institution we study in. When others stereotype the typical LSE student, most people feel that this stereotype doesn’t reflect them. We may think “I’m not that careers-focused” or “I’m not that wealthy.” This can be jarring – if we aren’t the archetype, do we really belong?
Finding a sense of belonging in these circumstances can be difficult – it can lead us to try to conform in ways that stifle our identity. Alternatively, it can lead us to reject our surroundings completely and to feel different. I admit, I’m often guilty of claiming “I’m not a typical LSE student” with a tinge of pride.
But neither of these approaches allow for growth – either we limit ourselves to the identity of our surroundings, or the identity we developed growing up. Indeed, no matter how we respond to the ‘typical’ LSE student, we can develop feelings of resentment towards a straw man who is everything we are not.
Recognizing the universality of this experience is in itself emboldening. Realizing that there isn’t anyone who feels they fit the mold makes space for us to accept that we don’t have to and can allow us to feel more comfortable in our own selves. My interviewee this week embodies that – her unapologetic individuality is refreshing and while she may not conform, no one could argue she hasn’t found her place.
What does this teach us about our own mental health? Most importantly, it teaches us that identity does not need to be comparative. We don’t need to meet certain standards to be valid, and our identity doesn’t need to be hidden to be accepted. In a culture of identity politics and division, maybe accepting the universality of mental struggle is a good way of bridging gaps.
