Search Results

Ever wondered why you suddenly feel so calm whenever you are in nature? Be it at the park when you are having your Sunday picnic, by a waterfall, hiking or even after a camping trip? Well, that’s the healing power of nature. Whether you are consciously aware of it or not, nature has a way of relaxing and dare I say even healing you. Turns out there’s a name for this kind of healing and it’s called Nature therapy or Ecotherapy. The website WebMD describes nature therapy as “the practice of being in nature to boost growth and healing especially mental health”. As someone with a background in Psychology, and one who has been through therapy, I have always been keen to figure out other ways therapy can be conducted without necessarily sticking to a typical in-clinic session. Although I’m currently not a practicing therapist, my passion for mental health is what drives me to research various psychology-related topics. I consider myself a very outdoorsy person and spending time in nature has always been the quickest way for me to de-stress, long before I was even aware of the whole concept of nature therapy. Thus, you can imagine my excitement researching this topic to further understand if there is any connection between the outdoors and mental health. What comes into mind when you think of a therapy session? If you have never had the opportunity to see a therapist, I am guessing you now have the image of a clinic-like room with a cosy sofa and a therapist in glasses and a tablet asking you how you are feeling after every sentence. While this is not too far off from what to expect, I am here to let you know that this is not the only way to get things off your chest. Ecotherapy is just like having your regular therapy sessions but the key difference is that you are having your sessions outdoors. In a nutshell, nature therapy essentially involves: A therapist The outdoors: A park, farm, forest or even a garden Experiencing or working in nature, through activities such as stargazing, enjoying the views on a walk, cycling through a forest, gardening or farming Nature therapy programs can include different kinds of activities. Here are examples of the different types of Ecotherapy. 1. Forest Bathing Forest bathing is also known as shinrin-yoku which loosely translates to “taking in the forest”. This concept immerged in the 1980s in Japan as a mindfulness practice that involves consciously taking a walk in the woods and being totally immersed in the sights, sounds and smells of the forest. What initially started in Japan as an antidote to the tech-boom burnout has now turned into evidence-based wellness practice providing the science to support the fact that spending time in nature is healing. Some of the documented benefits of forest bathing according to the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy include a decrease in the levels of the stress hormone cortisol and in turn relaxing your mind while putting you in a positive mood, improving your mental performance, and creativity. Forest bathing has also been known to lower blood pressure, boost the immune system, and accelerate recovery from illness, as highlighted in an article published at the Yale School of the Environment. Photo by Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash This is a welcoming idea to someone with a busy mind and quite frankly, something I definitely need to try soon. If you are curious about how to get started, simply start by searching for a nature and forest therapist in your area. 2. Wilderness & Adventure Therapy While forest bathing can be done successfully either in a private or group setting, wilderness and adventure therapy works best in a group setting. This form of therapy involves spending time outdoors in activities such as rafting, rock climbing and hiking as a means of addressing behavioral and mental health issues as well as empowering the participants. Wilderness and adventure therapy utilises aspects of psychodynamic, cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and occupational therapy. This approach is primarily geared towards teens and young adults. Photo by Hassan OUAJBIR from Pexels 3. Walk and Talk Therapy Typically conducted in parks, nature trails or urban green spaces by a professional therapist; “walk & talk” therapy is an approach that uses the therapeutic qualities of nature and movement, infusing the benefits of fresh air and exercise into a therapy session. Some professionals have found their clients to be more at ease in nature, “There’s something hugely freeing about being in open space and some people go deeper far sooner than they would do in a room,” says Psychotherapist and founder of the Nature Therapy School Beth Collier. Photo by Monstera from Pexels So, do you need a nature prescription? Although the three main forms of nature therapy highlighted above are usually conducted with the help of a professional therapist, this doesn’t mean that you cannot access the healing power of nature on your own. There are other forms of Ecotherapy such as outdoor yoga & meditation that you can easily do on your own and bring into your day to day life as a way to reduce stress. While direct contact with nature has many benefits, you don’t need to spend time in a green environment to experience the positive effects of nature. Several studies have found that a mere glimpse of nature from a window or even photographs of nature can improve people’s overall mood, mental health, and life satisfaction. Next time you are feeling a little overwhelmed and perhaps you don’t have much access to the green lush outdoors, now you have a few tips you can incorporate and if you are lucky enough to have access to a park or nature trail, try and make dates with nature a regular thing for your overall wellbeing. Header Image by Sharon Christina Rørvik on Unsplash

Every year during Men’s Health Week, we see more conversations around mental health, wellbeing, cancer awareness, and the importance of speaking up — which, of course, should absolutely be applauded. But there’s still a long way to go when it comes to helping men feel genuinely comfortable talking about their health. This is especially true when it comes to topics that feel personal, embarrassing, or vulnerable — like testicular cancer. Even though it’s the most common cancer in young men, many still don’t know the signs and symptoms, don’t regularly check themselves, or delay speaking to a GP because they feel embarrassed or convince themselves it’s ‘probably nothing’. At The Robin Cancer Trust, we’ve spent the last 14 years trying to change this space, by using humour to make conversations feel more normal, human, and approachable. I'm Toby Freeman, and I have the privilege of being the Founder & CEO of The Robin Cancer Trust — which is why I’m so passionate about changing the narrative around men’s health, and breaking the stigma by starting life-saving conversations. The Robin Cancer Trust: Our Why Authors own Image - Toby's brother, Rob The charity exists because of my brother Rob. Rob died from testicular cancer in 2011 at the age of 24. Before his diagnosis, he was fit, healthy, active — and in the prime of his life. Like most families, cancer wasn’t something we ever imagined would affect us, and especially not at that age. After losing him, our family made a decision that something good had to come from what happened — to prevent another family going through what we did. That idea, that hope, eventually became The Robin Cancer Trust. Over the years, what’s become really clear is that awareness alone isn’t always enough; we have to break down the barriers that lead to positive behaviour change. And what we’ve learned is that means creating space for permission. Permission to ask questions, to admit something feels wrong, to get checked without feeling embarrassed, and to talk openly about their body and health. Whether that’s at an event, in a classroom, or on social media, we must create spaces and interactions that give permission. Because when conversations feel awkward or taboo, people delay taking life-saving action — and with cancers like testicular cancer, early diagnosis is key to better outcomes. #TalkingBollocks: How humour can save lives So, how do we create these spaces and interactions? For us, there’s no better way than making people laugh. Cancer isn’t funny. In fact, it’s about as serious as it gets. But by making ourselves the butt of the joke — by wearing giant testicles around our necks, by handing out ‘I love my balls’ stickers, or by asking the public what they call their balls — we are giving people permission to laugh. And laughter is an incredible ice-breaker; it lowers people’s guard, it breaks the tension, and it makes difficult conversations feel approachable. It creates engagement where people might otherwise switch off. That’s why our campaigns are intentionally bold, creative, and disruptive — because talking bollocks saves lives. For that reason, I have run over 500km dressed as a giant ballbag, including the London Marathon, Brighton Marathon, and running across Hadrian's Wall. Author's own image - Toby running the London marathon People often ask me about the fundraising totals, the media coverage, or how many people we've reached — but honestly, that's not what I remember. It’s not even all the miles, the blood, sweat, and tears I’ve endured whilst carrying a 7kg costume hundreds of miles… I remember the runners shouting encouragement as they pass. The crowds laughing before asking a genuine question about testicular cancer. The stories people share about a friend, a brother, a son, or a dad. The messages afterwards from people saying they've finally checked themselves or booked a GP appointment because one of our campaigns got them thinking. Those moments matter far more than any statistic ever could. The costume is just the conversation starter — the conversations themselves are the point. And the reality is: people engage with it immediately: ● People laugh. ● People ask questions. ● People share videos and photos online. ● People start normalising conversations about their testicles. ● And most importantly: people start checking themselves regularly, and taking action if they are concerned. Sometimes the biggest barrier isn’t information. It’s simply getting people comfortable enough to engage with the topic in the first place. That’s how humour can save lives. Testicular Cancer: What you need to know Testicular cancer is 95% curable if caught early, so the most important thing is simply knowing what’s normal for your body. That’s why we encourage anyone with testicles to check themselves once a month. Symptoms can include: ● Lumps ● Swelling ● Hardness ● Heaviness ● Pain Most changes won’t be cancer, but if something feels unusual, persistent, or different to normal, it’s important to get checked. Don’t delay because you feel awkward or embarrassed. Don’t assume you’re overreacting or that it’ll just ‘go away’. Don’t feel like you’re wasting anyone’s time, or that ‘it can wait’. Book to see your doctor (you can always mention it’s a private matter, if you don’t want to say), take someone with you if you feel more comfortable, and mention your concerns directly to help your GP understand how to help you. New Normal: Conversations changing culture Author's own image So how can we as individuals make a difference in Men’s Health Week and beyond? The most impactful and important thing we can do is normalise these conversations with the people in our lives, and model the behaviour we want others to take ● Start a conversation about testicular cancer with friends, family, or colleagues ● Encourage those around you to check themselves once a month ● Know your normal, and take the time to visit your doctor if you are concerned By doing these three simple things, you will be creating permission for others — engaging, educating and empowering life-saving actions. If you can do it whilst making people laugh (we’re here to help with that if you need us), then that’s what The Robin Cancer Trust is all about. Talking bollocks saves lives — go ahead and spread the word.

A perfect column of khaki moves across the concrete. 300 pairs of legs marching in unison, with military precision. If not for the basketball hoops on either end of our parade square, we would be indistinguishable from professional soldiers. The occasional adolescent voice crack of the parade sergeant not withstanding, we were that good, or at least so we all believed. I am right in the centre, where everyone can see. I’m concentrating so hard on keeping pace that I don’t notice the loose paving slab. The world spins. Everyone stops, and hands reach out to scrape me off the floor. My face starts to burn. The shame builds to a pitch more powerful than my self-control, more powerful than the pervasive smell of boot polish and Lynx Africa. The tears come, like waves of grief for the life I could have had, and the distance between the version of me I want people to see and the inescapable realities of my life I had been carefully avoiding for so long. My presence on parade that day was itself an act of protest, an angry subversion of the expectation that I was somehow weaker or less capable than those I was alongside. After all, the positive euphemisms, which people had always used to soften my disability, matched the qualities needed for the military world: stoicism, determination, cheerfulness in the face of adversity. Any actual limitations were an inconvenience to be overcome by my strength of character. If anything, they highlighted my masculinity rather than detracting from it. This mentality, this delusion, shattered on impact with that paving slab. Image Source: Filip Andrejevic on Unsplash Performing Masculinity while Hiding Disability Born with cerebral palsy and severe dyslexia, my school days were punctuated by hospital appointments and assessments. Despite this, I was protected from the harsher realities of disability by an extremely supportive family, always prepared to help me through life’s struggles, whether that meant conquering literal mountains or mountains of paperwork. Sometimes this took the form of relentless encouragement; at other times, it came through more worldly means. Unbeknownst to me, my enrolment in mainstream secondary school had been refused. The school cited an inability to accommodate my needs. Did my parents keep this from me as an impulse of kindness or out of fear I might burn the school down? Either way. It wasn’t my concern; I was enrolled instead in an independent school with a stellar record for special needs provision. This kind of problem-solving attitude served me well in everything from learning to ski to sitting my exams; the results defied everyone’s expectations except, of course, my own. More fool them for underestimating me. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but at a certain point, I stopped acknowledging the necessity of those support structures. I started to believe that my attitude was enough. In an ideal world, the clouds of pressure and expectation would part, and I would live the rest of my life in the sunny uplands of self-acceptance. Instead, it became a warning of what could happen if people saw the fragilities of my life. Why Vulnerability Felt like Weakness The normal milestones in life became my competitions, the marching in step purely metaphorical but no less consuming. At university, it didn’t matter how many evaluations told me I was entitled to extra time. Using it would have been a self-indulgent weakness, an act of entitlement. I could do the work and more, running societies, or literally running at every opportunity. People’s shock when I pounded past them was a reminder of just how wrong everyone was. Present in everything and known by everyone, as long as they all remained at a manageable distance. Close real relationships were a risk. Besides, anyone’s attraction would surely evaporate if they were to carry the millstone of my life’s hidden complexities, which were so far from what I presented. Anything casual was out of the question, dismissed before it could even be entertained, or diverted before anyone could be disappointed. Photo provided by Author The acknowledgement of these realities, such as they were, came in the form of banter; my wobbly walk guaranteed me entry into any club, provided my friends’ outrage was convincing enough to embarrass the bouncer. Their jokes about my balance spilling my round before they could drink it. So much meaningless noise. The next morning, I would outrun them all. That is not to say those closest to me didn’t see the truth; the only person I truly convinced was myself. Watching The Undateables one night with friends, my housemate abruptly asked me to walk her home. She was observant enough to see my pain and astute enough to make the excuse masculine enough so that I wouldn’t dismiss it out of hand as a reflex. The event that finally broke through the illusions was somebody else’s breaking point that unexpectedly became my own. Counselling, Masculinity and Self-Awareness A university friend experienced a mental breakdown that escalated into a suicide attempt. That event reframed something I’d been resolutely against my whole life: counselling. The traumatic event put me in the same club as those soldiers I had admired years before; gone were the old associations with counselling and people who simply couldn’t hack life. Strangely, that night represents the closest I ever came to embodying the stoical ideal I had chased for so long. My friend remarked that my mild reaction to the situation was unsurprising, given that I was a “robot man”. Hearing that phrase was the first time I realised just how isolated I had become. Now I find myself in the strange position of being able to observe my own thoughts from a place of self-awareness, if not quite comfort. But being aware of one’s insecurities is not the same as being able to conquer them. It allows me to laugh ironically when people describe me as a “macho, macho man” and to see it as a wry compliment when my quiz team chooses a Superman figurine for my mascot. But I’d still be angry if they made the same jokes when I crossed the finish line of my latest race. Photo provided by Author I look at the world now compared with the one I grew up in, and I wonder if I would choose the same path. Attitudes towards mental health and disability have changed profoundly. My social media feed is filled with children making videos about disability education policy with more self-possession and eloquence than I could manage now, let alone at their age. Disabled children now have role models who look like them, people who demonstrate the value of embracing difference rather than concealing it. The teenager in the oh-so-shiny boots is still present and occasionally still wins, but his influence is softened by perspectives hard-won through experience. He could never have recognised that marching in step is only useful if all your destinations are the same. Now, when I run, it is for the satisfaction of self-improvement, not to outrun my own shortcomings, real or imagined. This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.

Image Source: Jas Rolyn on Unsplash Let me start by dispelling the obvious– there is no such thing as a “feminazi”. There are feminists, and then there are feminists who are so unapologetic and uncompromising about their pursuit of feminism that they are derogatorily branded “feminazi” by those who are discomfited by their pursuit of a fair and equal world. It follows, therefore, that there can be no such thing as a “male feminazi”. In my opinion and experience, this is a response from men who have not been taught to feel and express their emotions. They use such pejoratives to hit out at male peers whose more egalitarian approach makes them uncomfortable, thus dismissing the issue at hand rather than sitting with and working through why it is making them feel uncomfortable in the first place. Growing Up in India I’ve lived through an India that evolved from black and white television to Cable TV and from dial-up internet to streaming on broadband. In the nearly 5 decades that I’ve lived here, I’ve seen public dialogue and discourse in urban spaces embrace a host of topics that were previously considered taboo. ‘Love marriages’, a uniquely Indian name for how most of the western world marries, have become more accepted. Divorces are not the end of the world anymore. Families are getting more comfortable with children coming out as gay. But feminism, and anything to do with women speaking against and opposing the patriarchal structure of society, is still something that draws (male) ire like no other issue does. Image Source: Gyan Shahane on Unsplash I was 12 when I was given the birds-and-the-bees talk. By my mother. She explained how the female physiology worked and why my sister and her needed menstrual care products. This ensured I thought of menstruation as normal and was never embarrassed to ask for sanitary pads at the chemist’s. Her open, non-gendered approach, very rare in 1980s India, destigmatised topics that were, and still are, considered taboo and normalised my outlook to issues that many of my peers never addressed. And lamentably, still don’t. As a consequence of my openness, from the ages of 15 to around 45, I was often called things like ‘softie’, ‘senti’ (Mumbai slang for someone seen as too emotional) and ‘feminazi’ by many of my male peers. And while I’ve tried to show why there is no such thing as a ‘feminazi’ in any gender, I will also try to show why there is indeed such a thing as a male feminist and why every man, anywhere in the world, should aim to be one. Image Source: Herlambang Tinasih Gusti on Unsplash So, Who is a Feminist? Feminism is simple. No, really. It is simply the principle that there must be complete social, political, and economic equality between all genders, as organisations like the IWDA explain. Feminists are equally simple to understand. They are people who understand and accept this need for complete equality between all people and often, advocate strongly for it. And yes, men can and should be feminists. I am. Also, feminists are not anti-men. If you feel that they are, you’re probably reading the wrong publications and listening to the wrong podcasters. How Can You Be a Feminist? Start by accepting that as a man, you’re afforded more freedoms and choices simply because of your sex. This is called Male Privilege. And if you’re cishet (cisgender + heterosexual), you’re even more privileged in a system that has been engineered by men to benefit men. Yes, I’m talking about the patriarchy. Men are its beneficiaries but can also be its (unwitting) victims. The emphasis to ‘be a man’ begins very early. Growing up, in many societies, we’re taught that ‘boys don’t cry’. My mother encouraged me to share and express myself, but I saw, and still see, a repressed attitude prevailing around me. When I was in college in Mumbai, some friends used to call me ‘senti’, an abbreviation of 'sentimental' that is part of the Bombay lingo and is used to describe someone being too sappy. 20 years later, when gender and politics became part of our discussions, I was called “feminazi” by men for taking a feminist, and an egalitarian position that they thought was too extreme to even air. This reluctance to accept and discuss feminism causes men to bottle up their feelings until they finally explode, making it dangerous behaviour for everyone. And it has to stop. How? Don’t lash out at or mock men only because they are vocal and expressive in a way that makes you uncomfortable. Instead, ask yourself why you feel that way. The patriarchy that suppresses women also keeps men from expressing. It’s not ‘girlie’ to walk into a store and ask for tampons for a loved one. It’s not ‘homo’ to reach out to men for support. And it’s certainly not ‘pansy’ behaviour to cry in front of them. Being raised in rigid gender roles can make it hard to break the mould and stand apart from one’s peers. Trust me, I know. So, acknowledge the patriarchy. Examine it. Question it. And then, smash it. You’ll never feel more free. Better Still, How Can You Be an Ally? “What is an ally and why should I be one?”, you ask? Allow me to explain. Our understanding of equality has evolved with our understanding of gender. While sex is considered a binary determined by birth and biology, gender is now considered a spectrum based on society and identity. Remember the cisgender reference from earlier in this piece? It just means that you identify with the gender you were assigned at birth and raised in. We now accept that for many people, the gender identity that they were raised with might not be what they identify with as they age. And even then, these identities don’t conform to a narrow binary of male and female. They form an expanding spectrum of 70+ identities like transgender, non-binary, and genderfluid, just to name a few. So, while feminism is a great starting point for a just, egalitarian world, allyship should be your destination. Image Source: Age Cymru on Unsplash But before you hold your head and wonder how you’ll ever keep track, consider this. Even if you can’t remember identity, remember courtesy. Stop saying “that’s so gay” for anything that you consider silly. Even if you don’t ask people what their pronouns are, pay attention when they tell you. And remember to use them. Don’t dismiss someone’s identity as some ‘new nonsense the kids are up to’. And even if you don’t understand it, don’t question it. Sometimes, a quiet acceptance is all the understanding one needs. When I was 16, I started wearing my hair long. Far too long for an India that hadn’t even got satellite television yet. And then, I started ripping my jeans to look more like the musicians I idolised. I remember how my family and many friends dismissed this ‘rock rebel’ expression of mine. It was only my mother who supported me, and it kept me from feeling like an outsider. Similarly, feminism and feminists need your support, overt or otherwise. There might be no such thing as a ‘feminazi’, but there certainly aren’t enough feminists in this world. Especially those that identify as male and can use the privilege it comes with for the benefit of those born without it. This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.

Image Source: Shane uchi on Unsplash With porn consumption linked to increased anxiety, depression and loneliness among men, I reveal my own porn use and what led me to stop. After being single for most of my 30’s and finding my self-esteem and body confidence at an all-time low, I decided to quit porn. I had always struggled with my use, which had morphed from an exploration of my sexuality into an unhealthy habit. As a British writer with an interest in culture and men's wellness, I share my personal journey and examine societal concerns around men's porn use. Dirty Mags to Dial-Up Internet My use of porn started as a child in the early 90s when I discovered my father’s collection of mags hidden at the back of a drawer. Before this, I was exposed to the occasional dramatic sex scene on TV and The Sun’s infamous Page 3 models, which, in the laissez-faire parenting of millennial children, was not that unusual. What started as an innocent fascination quickly turned into something more concerning, as I found myself relying on porn not only for pleasure, but for a quick hit when feeling low — something that my awkward teenage years only exacerbated. Image Source: cottonbro studio on Pexels Then, as I entered college, came the first major milestone in my porn use — the PC with dial-up internet. I was preparing to study Computing at university, so its use was warranted, but in those early days of the World Wide Web, I’m not sure how much my parents knew about the Pandora’s box they had unwittingly delivered. Suddenly, I had access to as much content as my appetite desired, as well as a wide range of porn categories, which I was unaccustomed to. Some of these were alien to me, but as a young man, I was curious and explored — this was the era of the dubious American Pie films, after all. Habit Forming, Tolerance Increasing Around this time, I started to notice a pattern. I would typically use porn when I was feeling low, which would only make me feel worse and result in me seeking more. This increasingly compulsive use would leave me with guilt and shame, making this addictive cycle difficult to break. My tolerance also increased, as I needed more novel things to give me the same feeling. Aided by high-speed internet video, the content I consumed became more niche and graphic. This was in contrast to who I identified with as a young man, and this schism between public and private life continued to cause emotional distress well into my 20’s, as I found it hard to maintain eye contact and I developed an inner narrative that there was something wrong with me. Another side effect was reduced arousal in real-world encounters and a degree of sexual dysfunction, which left me dissatisfied in my relationships and ultimately resulted in more porn use. What had begun as a bit of pre-teen curiosity had already shifted and shaped my sexual habits and expectations to an unhealthy degree. Breaking the Cycle During these years, I attempted to rectify my addiction by seeking solace in the subforums of Reddit. I came across the NoFap movement, which encouraged individuals to overcome pornography addiction and compulsive sexual behaviours by abstaining from porn and masturbation. Participants would often do a 90-day ‘reboot’ challenge, which many claimed reset their sexual habits and provided a range of benefits from mental clarity to improved confidence. Image Source: LARAM on Unsplash I tried variations of these challenges on and off for a few years, which helped me to develop some self-control, but when a decade-long illness and bereavement stopped me in my tracks, my habit resumed. However, as I approached my 40th year, I reflected deeply on my porn use and asked myself if I still wanted to be consuming it in 10 years' time. The thought of spiralling further into addiction troubled me, and so I decided to quit. After a rocky couple of months, during which I felt despondent and emotionally unstable, I began to notice some positive changes: I felt happier, lighter, and less moody. The shame shrank, and the longer I went without looking at porn, the less I missed it. I realised just how far my ‘innocent’ habit had gone, and I was grateful that I had made the change then, rather than letting it continue. After a year, I found my body confidence improved, and my relationship with perceived beauty and what I found erotic was a lot healthier. I even met and fell in love with my partner and now find myself three years into the most contented and committed relationship of my life - something that I doubt would have happened if I were still consuming. A Wider Problem Looking back, I don’t think I was in the minority with my behaviour. Television and Radio presenter Ore Oduba shared recently that he had struggled with his own porn consumption from a young age and called it “the perfect taboo”. Research suggests that 15% of British men view porn two or three times a week, and a survey suggests a gender gap between men's and women's porn use and acceptance in heterosexual relationships. The stigma around porn addiction and men’s reluctance to discuss it means that a public health crisis is looming. This has no doubt led to the rise of the manosphere, as the extreme behaviour seen in porn is normalised, together with the unhealthy relationship dynamics and unrealistic expectations of sex and body types. Image Source: charlesdeluvio on Unsplash This is all the more worrying when statistics show that most boys first encounter porn at 13, becoming regular consumers from 16-17, and four in 10 teenage girls are coerced into sex acts commonly seen in porn, such as choking. The UK Government's recent Online Safety Bill is intended to counter this and protect those most at risk, at an age when their brains aren’t fully equipped to deal with such content. Society So now, looking from the other side, I find myself asking: does porn reflect society, or is society reflected in porn? The way mainstream porn and society at large glamorise certain trends, such as valuing youth and beauty above all else, has always been problematic. This ties into wider societal problems like the male gaze, consent and violence towards women, which were with us long before the modern trend for consuming porn and reflect a patriarchal worldview. I’ve had conversations with male friends who don’t understand my concerns and don’t see their use as problematic, despite my protestations. I’m sure that some men’s porn use is moderate, but my fear is that not enough men are speaking up about the dangers or seeking help when it becomes problematic. Rewards As I move into my fourth year without porn, I still have my challenges. Social media occasionally throws up something designed to lure me in, where I feel the remnants of an old, hardwired habit deep in the recesses of my brain. However, the rewards in my own life are evident. My body confidence and mental health have rocketed, and the intimacy I get to experience with my partner makes it more than worth it. I no longer feel like I am living a double life, and I can finally look people in the eye without shame. ------------------------------------------------- Helpful Resources: www.samaritans.org https://www.nhsinform.scot/healthy-living/sex-and-relationships/pornography This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.

I wonder when women’s health will catch up, if ever. Maybe not in my lifetime, but the latest break- through for women’s health is the renaming Polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) to polyendocrine metabolic ovarian syndrome (PMOS), as announced in the Lancet: a global nod to the endocrine and metabolic ramifications of the condition, and moving away from the view that it is merely a gynaecological problem. Who am I, why do I care, and shall I step off my soap-box now? Well no, not yet at least. PMOS is having its moment, and I am pretty chuffed about it. I’m a registered dietitian, women’s health researcher, and knowledge mobilisation fellow with NIHR. I’m also a patient with lived experience of PMOS. I’ve been in the system and I work in the system, and I have to say I really hope that this step is a catalyst for change, but 10 years of working in the NHS may mean I don’t hold my breath. Why the pessimism you may ask? Well, some of the statistics are pretty bleak. Only 5% of research funding is spent on women’s health. There is approximately a 17-year translational gap between evidence publication and change to clinical practice. Throw in the fact that until recent years, women were excluded from clinical research due to hormone fluctuation, and you have a perfect storm for why women’s health is so far behind. 14% of the population have type 2 diabetes, 13% of the population have PMOS. Which one has more awareness, licensed medication, and multiple pathways and services for support? This is the gap I am working to improve for PMOS Image by AXP Photography on Pexels I’ve worked across acute, community, and primary care services and understand the complex NHS system relatively well. Most recently, I joined primary care to build a new primary care dietetic service across 32 GP practices in Westminster. In doing so, I conducted a needs analysis: a process used to identify gaps between an organisation's performance and their desired outcomes. It may come as no surprise that women’s health was identified. I started to notice more and more women with heavy menstrual bleeding, PCOS (at the time), weight management concerns, mental health concerns, and menopause being booked into my dietetic clinic, mostly requiring a listening ear, words of encouragement, and holistic support. During that time, I was diagnosed with PMOS after having years of symptoms and thinking there was something wrong with me. Upon diagnosis, I was told “we don’t need to check your bloods, you’re slim, your bloods are probably fine, but come back when you struggle getting pregnant.” It dawned on me, as a dietitian who eats well, exercises regularly, and works within healthcare that I’d just been diagnosed with a chronic condition, of which, not many seem to know about and there is no cure... oh and does this mean I can’t have children now? Why is it that within the system this is an acceptable stance to take upon diagnosis “come back when you struggle having children”? Unfortunately, this highlighted a common issue alongside “you just need to lose weight” within the evidence and the All Party Parliamentary Group formal inquiry. So, what can we do to shift that narrative and work towards something more helpful, more meaningful, and more empowering when discussing PMOS? Well, quite a lot as luck would have it. Nutrition is a key factor; obviously as a Dietitian, I’m hugely interested in this. But it’s not just about weight loss. Given up to 70% women with this condition are insulin resistant, glycaemic load (a measure of how carbohydrates in food impact blood sugar levels) and low glycaemic index foods (carbohydrate foods that have a slower release of glucose and therefore less increase in blood sugar levels) can help. Chronic inflammation is an issue, so intake of anti-inflammatory foods (oily fish, avocados, olive oils) matter. Gut disturbance is common, and so having a diverse intake of plants, wholegrains, nuts, and seeds can help. Micronutrient deficiency is associated with higher levels of period pain and so correcting this using food first with some of the aforementioned examples is a great step. Photo by Ella Olsson on Unsplash Now onto the double-edged sword of sleep disturbance, which is common in women with PMOS. How is this relevant you ask? Well, hormone imbalances including elevated androgen levels and insulin resistance interfere with the circadian rhythm and the body’s internal clock; this can lead to delayed sleep onset and negatively affect deep sleep quality. You will be pleased to know that sleep disturbances can also lead to insulin resistance, weight gain and inflammation, so PMOS really is the gift the keeps on giving. Hopefully, you’re catching my drift as to why women are in need of proper support? I’ll carry on, just in case… One of the least talked about impacts of — but in my view, well worth some of the spotlight — is the mental health impact. Hormonal and inflammatory imbalances can affect brain chemistry, causing mood swings and emotional distress. Low self-esteem and poor body image are extremely common and up to 52% women experience anxiety and 51% experience depression. Compared to women without PMOS, those with this condition are 3 times more likely to experience depression and 5 times more likely to experience anxiety. A final but important point, is that women with PMOS are 3-6 times more likely to experience eating disorders… unlikely helped by being told “you need to lose weight” without any further conversation, guidance, or support. Photo by Snowscat on Unsplash So, with the new name giving a nod to the plethora of other impacts, I hope to see better training for healthcare professionals to ensure they are better equipped to have consultations that treat women with the holistic care they desperately need. It feels there is light at the end of the tunnel. Even without condition specific services, there is real opportunity to change the narrative and treat women and their complex symptoms properly — with care and empathy. I hope for more research funding allocated to women’s health, and more compassion within the system.

“Let yourself be bored” It is a statement that resonated with me recently, as I was reading a Substack article. From time to time, I have been thinking about the importance of boredom and how it supports my creativity. It has helped me finding new topics to write about, new hobbies, and even drive inspiration for my paintings. Upon reflection, these moments shaped my best ideas and even the best pieces of work that I've produced (of course, subjective to me!). Image from Getty Images on Unsplash+ As someone who has just completed an undergraduate degree in Cognitive and Clinical Neuroscience and works as a Research Technician here in the SPI Lab (the team that brings you. ITM!), I’ve come to appreciate these moments of boredom. They don’t happen often, but when they do, they feel especially sweet. I notice them most when I’m travelling, particularly when I’m without internet access. This was the case on my recent trip to Paris: complete stillness and boredom sat on the train for 2 straight hours. Initially, it gave me space to reflect on certain aspects of my life, but after some time, the boredom got to me, and it started giving me a space to think about creative things I can do. In this article, I’ll reflect on the value of these moments of boredom and stillness as well as highlighting some of the research and theories I came across while delving into this topic. Our Reduced Tolerance to Boredom I usually love to distract myself, either through social media, watching something on Netflix, or even listening to a podcast. Let’s just say I am a person who loves to consume, especially when I am bored. Due to this constant stimulation, moments of boredom don’t come as frequently to me anymore. Nowadays, escaping boredom has become quite easy. One big reason is that navigating on social media is available almost all the time, unless we don’t have internet access. When we use social media, features like endless scrolling, likes, and notifications can trigger the brain to release dopamine, a neurotransmitter that helps drive feelings of pleasure, reward, and motivation. Because social media provides frequent and fast rewards, it can quickly interrupt feelings of boredom by giving the brain small bursts of satisfaction whenever we engage with it. However, over time, this quick dopamine fix may make periods of inactivity or boredom feel less comfortable. This explains the popularity of practices such as “dopamine fasting”, where individuals intentionally reduce exposure to highly stimulating content and platforms. Image by Photo Camilo Jimenez on Unsplash Studies have found that people who abstain from heavy social media use can experience withdrawal-like symptoms, including cravings, irritability, and difficulty concentrating. For example, apps like TikTok use algorithms that constantly deliver new and varied content, trigger a dopamine release and keep users engaged, where a short funny video is followed by a serious or emotionally charged one, which creates a sense of unpredictability that encourages continued scrolling. When every spare moment can be filled with content, opportunities for reflection, creativity, and rest can become harder to find. I think it was easier to find these moments when we were children; we didn't have any responsibilities, phones, or unlimited TV-time to fill this “blank space”. This “blank space” is something people usually run away from, or try to fill up constantly with music or external noise, especially as adults. This is why it is important to intentionally create moments of stillness in daily life, allowing the mind space to wander, recover, and engage with the world beyond a screen. Creating Art without Inspiration A lot of the time, my creative inspiration comes from actively searching for it, whether that’s through Instagram, Pinterest, or other external sources. Yet, lately, I’ve been allowing my thoughts to wander more freely and seeing what naturally emerges from whatever creative activity I’m doing. One moment that stands out was when a friend once asked me to write a poem on the spot while we were sitting in a park, just pondering and taking in the sun and the view. It felt strange at first because I usually rely on external inspiration - something I’ve read, seen, or experienced - to spark my writing. I felt so stuck until she guided me to feel my senses and write about what I could see, hear, taste, and touch in the moment. What surprised me was that, in a moment that felt empty of stimulation, I was actually able to connect more deeply to the present. Letting my mind wander while staying grounded in my surroundings gave me the space to create something I never imagined I could write spontaneously. Image by Andy Quezada on Unsplash+ I did some research about it and I came across the Default Mode Network (DMN) theory, which suggests that creativity is stimulated when the mind is at rest, bored, or wandering. The DMN, which is a group of brain regions, becomes active when individuals aren't focused on demanding tasks, which allows the mind to reflect, imagine, and connect ideas. You can read more about this in our previous article about the relationship between the DMN and consciousness! This is closely linked to another theory, named the incubation theory, which explains that creative solutions often appear after taking a rest from consciously thinking about a problem. When the brain is not as stimulated, like when we daydream or even complete repetitive tasks such as admin work, the brain continues to process information. These processes are unconscious but can lead to creative ideas and sudden “aha” moments. The Art of Slowing Down You might have heard the phrase the art of slowing down. It’s about intentionally creating space for boredom, rest, and mental stillness in everyday life, and appreciating it. Growing up in Madagascar, this felt natural because slowing down was embedded in my daily routines - whether through midday breaks, naps, or simply allowing time to pause and relax - even on busy schedules. Since settling in London, that slower rhythm has felt almost impossible, so I had to foster these small moments myself through daily practices such as prayer and meditation, which create moments of mental stillness. These pauses give the mind time to process experiences and reconnect with deeper thoughts and emotions, which can ultimately create space for creativity, clarity, and emotional balance. From a physiological perspective, slowing down is not simply a matter of preference, but something deeply connected to how the body naturally functions. For example, for women, the menstrual cycle creates recurring phases where energy, mood, and cognitive capacity shift due to hormonal changes. Research suggests that fluctuations in hormones such as estrogen and progesterone can influence stress responses, energy levels, emotional regulation, and the importance of needing for rest. This emphasises the importance of aligning work, rest, and self-care with the body’s natural rhythms rather than resisting them. Image from Britannica Personally, learning to embrace slower periods instead of fighting against them has brought me a sense of peace and self-understanding. Rather than seeing rest as a weakness, it has become a way of working with the body instead of against it, creating space for slowing down and letting both my mind and body rest and appreciate moments of stillness. There are many different ways of finding moments of stillness and boredom. Often, we find ourselves daydreaming during the quiet moments when we are not actively doing anything, before falling asleep, during a lunch break, or even while sitting on the tube. My own way of letting my mind wander, and the experiences I have reflected on in this piece, may not look the same for everyone. However, I hope this encourages you to seek out and appreciate those small moments of stillness in your own life, as they may hold more creativity, clarity, and meaning than we often realise.

I’m sure many of you have been following the war between the US and Iran, have seen the headlines of escalations rising in the Middle East, and are starting to feel some of the implications this war is having on the world. I previously wrote a piece covering my experiences at the beginning of the war in the UAE. Now, I am sharing my perspective again, but this time with a focus on my mother country, Lebanon. Although my family and I moved away when I was five years old, Lebanon will always hold a special place in my heart. When circumstances allowed, my family and I would return every summer, spending our weeks gathering with family and reconnecting with our land. Lebanon was, of course, a centre for art, culture, science and tourism in the decades after we gained independence from the French in 1943. Image Source: Jo Kassis on Pexels Unfortunately, my country has suffered from a history of extreme instability. Civil war broke out in the 70s and 80s, leading to the creation of militia and terrorist groups like Hezbollah and the occupation of Lebanese territory by Israeli and Syrian forces. In more recent years, Lebanon has suffered compounding crises: economic collapse in 2019, the bombing of Beirut Port in 2020, and the resurgence of the conflict between Hezbollah and Israel in 2023. While a ceasefire was later established in 2024, it never held, and conflict resurged in light of the Iran-US war. On 2nd March 2026, Israel issued evacuation orders, displacing over 1 million people, and leaving 14% of the country’s territory abandoned. Many left their homes in pyjamas, heading for the capital, Beirut, in hopes of finding temporary shelter. Others chose to stay behind, claiming that experiencing “bombardment may be easier than the trauma of being displaced”. My sympathy goes to all of those displaced, and I can only try to imagine the distress they must be experiencing. I recall stories that my parents shared with me growing up, and I have witnessed the pain they carry from the decisions they had to make. During the 80s, my parents lived through much of the civil war and the subsequent occupations of Lebanon. Once they started a family, they had to weigh staying in their home and within their community against their children’s future livelihoods. Ultimately, they felt driven to find safety and stability in the UAE. My parents had to make an incredibly difficult decision, as many now will face. However, in this war, there is an added layer of threat for the South Lebanese. The decision to temporarily flee for safety is accompanied by fear of having their homes taken, their land conquered, and a piece of their country lost forever. The announcement of a ceasefire between the US and Iran on April 8th left many people believing they could return home. Tragically, that afternoon, Israel launched over 100 missiles at Lebanon in the span of 10 minutes. This attack was not restricted to known Hezbollah-affiliated communities and reached far beyond the evacuation zones. In fact, Beirut neighbourhoods, like the Corniche, where my parents often took me on seaside walks, were also struck by missiles. Image Source: Jo Kassis on Pexels Since March 2, the death toll has risen to nearly 3000, according to the Lebanese health ministry. While ceasefire terms are actively under discussion, our people have not been graced with a halt to these attacks. Our communities are growing weaker with this ever-present series of devastating events exacerbating the mental health crisis in Lebanon. With these compounding adversities, the prevalence of mental health disorders is believed to have grown exponentially within the Lebanese population. The last prevalence study was done in 2022, two years after the August 4th Beirut port explosion, and published later in 2025. It estimates that amongst the 1000 individuals screened, 48% were likely to meet the criteria for Major Depressive Disorder, 45% for Generalised Anxiety Disorder and 42% for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. These prevalence rates are 5 to 10 times higher than the global average, and precede the more recent Hezbollah-Israel conflict. Lebanon is at a breaking point and is in desperate need of urgent support and care. This instability has made it difficult to stay in our country. It is also why about 3 times more Lebanese people live abroad than at home. Many — like my parents, family, and friends — have left in pursuit of safer, more stable, and prosperous lives. Thus, the Lebanese community lives everywhere, and we keep each other grounded within our culture. Wherever we are, we both celebrate and mourn together. We all share the diasporic distress. Watching our country under continuous violence marks us all. It is a multifaceted experience that I find quite difficult to verbalise while writing this piece. So, I will let the words and experiences of my friends and family describe what I cannot. Speaking with them revealed a pattern of common themes amongst us all, but it also showed me the wide variety in everyone’s sentiments. Some shared that they try not to follow the news because they don’t have much family back home and hate to see the current state of the country. They highlighted that these feelings are accompanied by guilt — that they are abandoning their country, while acknowledging the privilege that comes with getting away. Not everyone can avoid the distress just by deleting news apps and scrolling away from related content. Others brought up feelings of helplessness as they watch friends and family suffer from living under the constant threat of harm, the sounds of drones, and a lack of support from the global community. And finally, there are those of us who experience a sense of cognitive dissonance: the feeling that our values and responsibilities to Lebanon are not met as we actively go about our daily lives abroad. One of my friends, in particular, highlighted that this feeling has pushed her further away from others, as her friends’ problems feel less significant compared to the war that is unfolding before us, making it more difficult to engage with them, despite wanting to. Image Source: Thomas Vanhaecht on Pexels Personally, I’ve found it difficult to look away from the news and disengage from the content of people’s experiences on the ground. I feel like I owe it to my country and people to witness what they are going through and to raise awareness in the ways that I can. But even this, at times, can become overwhelming and lead me to experience compassion fatigue. At which point I find myself ignoring updates, only then to be accompanied by a sense of guilt, similar to what my friends have described. You would think that after watching my country go through crisis after crisis, I'd develop some sort of resilience to watching it collapse and rebuild. The truth is, every breath of hope I take once one crisis is resolved is also met by feelings of dread, fear of what’s to come, and concerns for my country’s future. Despite this, the strength and resilience of my people have carried me and all Lebanese through, and I have faith that we will never lose these qualities.

There’s More to the Beckham Break-up than Meets the Eye My mother and I have been estranged for twenty years, with a few exceptions. I saw her at the hospital when my niece was born. We spoke on the phone once in 2013, and a few times in 2016. I stopped sending my annual “Merry Christmas” text message in 2019. When we first became estranged, it felt like I was the only person in the world who couldn’t maintain a relationship with my mom. Now, stories like Brooklyn Beckham’s flood the media with one of two narratives: Brooklyn is an ungrateful kid; or David and Victoria are terrible parents. Both are probably too categorical. In my work researching family estrangement, I have heard dozens of stories from estranged adult kids. Some are still hurting, others have moved beyond the most painful stage and still more feel grateful for the freedom estrangement has afforded them. None have cut off contact or maintained their boundaries out of spite. (I realise some estrangements are caused by the child’s mental illness or addiction issues, which is a different story that I won’t be addressing here.) The thing I find most fascinating is that some cases mirror mine, which I used to think was unusual: the estrangement was initiated by an angry parent and then maintained by the child. Some estranged adult children do feel some level of anger, but that anger is about how they are portrayed by their parents or journalists who claim they are simply chasing the latest “trend.” Estrangement is the last thing we wanted, and the only reason we’ve chosen it is self-preservation. Image Source: Jessica Yap on Unsplash There is More than One Kind of Abuse It seems that most bewildered estranged parents think they were good parents: they fed and clothed their kids, paid for university and/or weddings, cheered for them in school sports. But for kids who choose estrangement, these things have come at too great a cost, cost being the operative word. Often, these parents have leveraged typical parenting acts into a favour that must be repaid. If parents are paying for the wedding, maybe they feel entitled to invite particular guests to the wedding. On its face, this sounds trivial. Why not let the parents invite who they want? Here’s the part of this story that is often missing, which I think is what Brooklyn tried to explain in his explosive social media post: when parents control all aspects of a child’s life – maybe with money, but not always – a young child might be conditioned to show his appreciation by doing anything else the parents ask, even if he doesn’t want to. In the case of Brooklyn, maybe this meant trading his first dance with his wife for a mother-son dance. This level of control and dismissal of the child’s interests can become insidious over the course of childhood and adolescence. Maybe the breaking point seems unimportant, but the true reason for estrangement is probably a lifelong lack of validation. This is just one example of how parent-child relationships might become complicated, and the truth is, it sounds trivial because it is trivial. The real test of a healthy relationship is how the conversation goes when the child tentatively says, “I don’t want to do this” or “I don’t like this plan.” Do the parents acknowledge and respect these feelings, or do they bulldoze in favour of their own interests? Every estrangement story sounds trivial, but the story we hear is merely the tip of the iceberg. Without exception, every estranged person I have interviewed has tried to find a way to explain their predicament to their parent. They try to explain because they want to resolve conflict and move forward together. But instead, estrangement occurs when the parent refuses or is unable to hear a critique. The Story You Don’t Hear Sometimes ‘no contact’ is even the parent’s idea. It was 2004 when my mother told me to move out, changed the locks on our home, and stopped taking my phone calls. Afterwards, there were brief periods of contact, but it was my work unpacking the before that gave me the most clarity. Throughout my childhood, my mom often gave me the silent treatment. As I got a bit older, she would sometimes leave entirely. She didn’t always say when she would return, and although it was always within a few days, it was still a worrying time in which I looked after my siblings and figured out what to have for dinner each night. In retrospect, it was only a matter of time until she was gone for good. When she first told me to leave, I was desperate to reconnect, apologise (for what, I don’t actually know), and earn my way back into her good graces. That was the cycle we lived for most of my life. But at some point, I realised that while it was painful to be ignored, it was easier than spending all my time worrying about whether she was happy or angry with me and what I needed to do to maintain or change that. Several people have told me similar stories. In one case, a woman told her mother she couldn’t take her calls during work hours any more; her mother responded by saying they shouldn’t speak at all. Similarly, we might infer from Brooklyn’s claim that his father refused “quality time” and was interested only in Brooklyn’s attendance at his very public 50th birthday party, that control is more important to the parent than the relationship itself. In my case, after many years of no contact, my mother called. It was nothing like it should be, but it was a start. We spoke on the phone a few times and exchanged text messages, but when I failed to reply to one asking about a recent trip, she followed up to say we just shouldn’t be in contact after all. These responses are irrational, but not unexpected. When I received that message, I thought, well, it was kind of nice while it lasted. But it was inevitable that I would disappoint her again, and she would leave. The difference in 2016 compared to 2004 was that I knew better than to try to fix it. The Real Victims I have no doubt that, if asked, my mother would say that I don’t speak to her. She will portray herself as the victim in any story she tells about our estrangement. And perhaps she’s right. There’s room for two victims. I don’t believe her behaviour is anything that can be helped at this time, and it’s a shame for both of us. Still, for parents lamenting they did nothing wrong, I wonder if they’ve ever considered how they might have unintentionally hurt their children, and most importantly, what they can do to repair that pain. Parents who have shared stories of reconciliation have one thing in common: they’ve listened to their kids and worked on changing their harmful behaviour. Not necessarily because they believe it was harmful, but because they listened when their child said that they were harmed. Of course, there are plenty of estranged adult kids who are unwilling to reconnect with their parents, and they are entitled to that choice. Perhaps the pain they endured is too much to revisit or risk inviting in again. Others are open to reconnection, if only they felt heard. The most overlooked story in estrangement is parents who are unable to listen. This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.

Author's Note: The experience of Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder is a difficult one to explain. It’s watching your life unfold through a filter of irrational rage and negativity for two weeks, every month. It’s knowing that your extreme, negative thoughts and dysphoric feelings are irrational, but feeling powerless against stopping them. This story aims to place the reader inside the mind of a PMDD sufferer to properly portray the mental struggles they face on a regular basis. Image Source: Yuris Alhumaydy on Unsplash 07:12, day 9 of 28 The golden wash of sunrise bathed the bedroom in a soft, buttery glow that made the dust motes dance. Such a soft, buttery glow, in fact, that Rosie didn’t even squint as she roused from sleep, reaching out her arms in a feline stretch and shaking the dregs of slumber from her body. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she rolled into her boyfriend’s side of the bed, breathing his scent from the pillow and settling comfortably back into the sheets to watch the sun ascend over the horizon. It had been his brainchild, this whole ‘sleeping with the curtains open’ malarkey. ‘The Dutch Method,’ he’d called it. Something he’d seen online that promised improved circadian rhythm, mental health, community connection and blah blah blah. Rosie wasn’t convinced just yet, but with every inch that the sun crept up, her doubts melted further away. It would’ve been the perfect way to wake up, had Eddie been there to cuddle into. To bring her a coffee, envelop her in his warm embrace and natter the morning away between sleepy giggles and gentle kisses. But, like every other weekday morning, he’d slipped out at the very break of dawn for the early shift at work, so Rosie instead settled for her natural wake-up call, her warm bed and the promise that she’d see him soon. Outside the window of their little bungalow, the morning glare had softened, paving the way for a clear view outside, where the neighbours’ rubbish bins were all lined up in a neat row. The middle, however, bore an almighty gap, like the smile of a child who’d just lost their first tooth. Groaning, Rosie dragged herself from bed, stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers and rushed outside in her pyjamas to drag their bin into formation. Thank God for the Dutch method, she thought. But it was okay. She’d beaten the bin men and, for that, she was grateful. She made her way back inside, kicked off her slippers and snuggled back into bed. Snatching her phone from the bedside table, she thumbed a message to Eddie: ‘Did you forget to do something this morning?? Can’t wait to see you later. Have a good day, love you x’ 07:12, day 24 of 28 A sleepy, irritated grimace twisted Rosie’s features as she rolled out of bed, yanking the curtains closed against the harsh light of the morning sun. ‘Better for your mental health,’ her boyfriend, Eddie, had claimed when he’d suggested keeping them open the previous night. The only thing that would benefit my mental health right now would be some more God damned sleep, she thought. Clambering back into bed, Rosie wrapped the sheets around her body and closed her eyes, willing herself to succumb once more to the heavy cloak of darkness that blanketed the bedroom. But it was futile. Heart racing and mind reeling, she was far too tuned into her body for sleep to find her again. Where moments ago she existed in a deep and dreamless slumber, it was now all she could do to ignore the subtle twinge that pestered her lower abdomen, or the pressure that was building behind her eyes. No, sleep was far, far away. She needed painkillers. Quickly. Dragging herself from bed, Rosie stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers and slumped into the kitchen, plucking a fresh packet of paracetamol from the cupboard and popping two from the flimsy foil. She gazed out of the window behind the kitchen sink with sleep-heavy eyes, pouring a glass of water when she noticed. There, in the back garden. A coke can poking out of its half-closed lid like a little, red tongue, mocking her. The dustbin. With a tightly clenched jaw, she slammed her glass down on the counter and shook her head in disbelief, choking back the angry sound that bubbled up her throat and brought tears with it. She drew a deep, shaky breath through her nose, and blew it out of her mouth with pursed lips. I’m not going to cry I’m not going to cry I’m not going to cry, she told herself. Because, after all, why would she cry? It was just a bin and it was just one week and they were such a good team 99% of the time that it would be ridiculous to hold this against him. Irrational, even. Still, she couldn’t stop the cascade of tears as she heard the low rumble of the bin wagon outside, getting louder and louder as it approached the street. An agitated scream burst from her throat and she stalked into the bedroom, painkillers forgotten. She snatched up her phone from the bedside table and thumbed a message to Eddie: ‘If you can’t be arsed to look after our house I don’t know why you bother living in it. You had one job.’ 16:57, day 9 of 28 “Hey, Rosie?” Her manager’s voice called from the back office. “Can I have a quick word before you shoot off?” It had been non-stop at the hotel all day. Guest after guest, phone call after phone call, email after email. An unrelenting, endless stream of people requiring her attention. And Rosie absolutely loved it. There was something about the busy days that made her thrive. Maybe it was the fact that time just flew. Maybe it was the smile she had to keep on her face in the name of customer service, helping her to maintain a good mood all day. Either way, she loved her job, and she was good at it, too. She’d just sent the last guest in her mile-long queue off to their room and had tidied her station before she headed out to the back office. “Hey, Michelle,” she said, smiling. “What can I do for you?” “You did really great today. I know it’s not easy out there when you’re being pulled in every direction, but you handled it really well. You should be proud of yourself,” Michelle replied. Rosie beamed. “That being said, I just need you to make sure you’re always prioritising the people in front of you, okay? The emails can wait and I can take the calls, just focus on the guests at the desk so you don’t end up with a queue. It’s not a great look for us when we’re backed up. Is that alright?” Rosie nodded and smiled. “Yeah, of course, no problem. Thanks for the feedback.” “Okay, Rosie. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night.” “Thanks for a great shift, Michelle! See you tomorrow.” Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Rosie made for the door, exhaustion etched into her brow and a satisfied smile dancing on her lips. 16:57, day 24 of 28 “Hey, Rosie?” Her manager’s voice called from the back office. “Can I have a quick word before you head off?” Can I not catch my breath first? Rosie thought to herself as she dragged her feet to greet her boss. The shift at the hotel had been non-stop. There was something about the busy shifts that she relished in, usually. The quick pace, the constant turnaround of new faces, the subtle satisfaction of solving guests’ grievances. But today, she just wanted a rest. A small reprieve from the barrage of enquiries that demanded her plastered-on smile and sickly-sweet customer service voice. All the while, plagued with the persistent twisting pain in her lower abdomen and thoughts of the confrontation with Eddie she was going home to. Still, she forced her mouth into a mechanical, drawn-on smile that didn’t meet her eyes, smoothed down her ghastly, blue uniform and made her way into the back office, where her manager awaited her with a worried smile. “Is everything okay? You really don’t seem yourself today,” Michelle asked. Her patronising drawl set Rosie’s teeth on edge. “Yeah, fine,” she clipped back. “Okay, well I just need you to make sure you’re always prioritising the people in front of you, okay? The emails can wait and I can take the calls, just focus on the guests at the desk so you don’t end up with a queue. It’s not a great look for us when we’re backed up. Is that alright?.” Rosie blinked–an attempt to hide her disbelief. She’d given everything to this job. Dropped plans to help out where needed. All her fake smiles and fake charm and fake laughs. The fake wellness and fake face-full-of-makeup and fake desire to even really be there at all. She’d given them everything. And in return? Criticism after criticism after criticism. “Look, Michelle, on second thoughts, I’m really not feeling great, actually. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it in tomorrow.” Michelle’s brows furrowed in false concern, which only stoked the fire that burned in Rosie’s chest. “Okay, take all the time you need. Can I get you some water? Do you need me to call someone to pick you up? “No, no. That’s okay. I’ll see you… in a couple of days,” Rosie mumbled before slinging her bag over her shoulder and making her way out of the door. 18:16, day 9 of 28 Music blared and the sun hung low in the sky, bathing the kitchen in the same golden light Rosie had woken up to that morning. She threw herself around her kitchen dancefloor, belting lyrics and swinging hips, stopping only to scrape her wooden spoon against the bottom of her pan to keep her pasta sauce from sticking. She’d never been a great singer–or dancer, for that matter–but, hell, she’d give it a fair crack, particularly when she was cooking up a storm. She paused her one-woman show to taste her sauce when the door slammed open, jolting her back to reality and sending pasta sauce flying down her t-shirt and onto the floor. She looked up from the mess to see Eddie, standing in the doorway with an amused grin on his face, arms flung wide. Mess forgotten, she bounded over to him and threw herself into his embrace, his body swallowing hers. “I’ve missed you today,” she mumbled into his chest. “I’ve missed you, too,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead before continuing with a chuckle: “but we need to get that cleaned up.” They worked in tandem, her with the cloth and him with the mop, until the messy square of laminate floor was squeaky clean once again. Rosie turned her music down and returned to the stove. “Smells delicious,” Eddie told her as he grabbed a clean spoon and dipped it into the pasta sauce. His hum of approval made Rosie smile, and she swatted his hand away. “It’s nearly ready, greedy. Sit down, I’ll plate up.” Circling Rosie’s waist with his arms, Eddie pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Do you think you could save me some for later instead? The boys are going for a drink tonight. I’ve not seen them in a while.” Rosie laughed and turned to face him, planting a kiss on his lips. “Yes, of course I can save you some. Go have fun. I’ll see you later.” 18:16, day 24 of 28 Cooking was cathartic for Rosie. There was something about the process of chopping, stirring, sauteeing that always calmed her down. Maybe it was the method. The routine. The repetition. She wasn’t sure. But as she hummed along quietly to the gentle music, the kitchen blind pulled low to temper the blaze of the evening sun against her pulsing headache, she felt more at peace than she had done all day. She was just bringing the spoon to her lips for a taste when the door slammed open, jolting her back to reality and sending pasta sauce flying down her t-shirt and onto the floor. She looked up from the mess to see Eddie, standing in the doorway. “Oh, for God’s sake, look what you’ve made me do,” she spat as she grabbed a cloth and dropped to her knees, dabbing up the mess. “Nice to see you too,” her boyfriend grumbled, slumping into a chair at the dinner table. Ignoring his comment, Rosie ensured the last of the pasta sauce had been cleared from the floor before turning back to the stove. Tension hung thick in the air like an angry, black smoke cloud. “Good day?” He asked. “Not really,” she grumbled. “Wanna talk about it?” Yes please. Let me say sorry and talk about how busy I’ve been and how much my stomach hurts whilst you hold me tight and tell me everything’s going to be okay. “Not really.” Eddie sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Look, I’m really sorry I forgot to take the bins out this morning. It just slipped my mind, I was in a rush, I promise it won’t happen again.” Rosie laughed dryly before turning to face him, folding her arms across her chest. “It had better not happen again, Eddie. I do not have time in the day to cover your responsibilities on top of mine.” “Oh, be fair, Rose, it was a mistake. It’s not like I don’t pull my weight around the house. I was in a rush and I’ve said I’m sorry. Now can we just move on, please?” “Sorry won’t take the bins out, Eddie. This is your house too, and you’d ought to start treating it that way.” Eddie scoffed and rose from his seat. “I actually can’t deal with you when you’re like this. I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.” And with that he left, slamming the door behind him. “Yeah, that’s it. Run off, again,” Rosie shouted after him, tears springing to her eyes. She slumped into the chair he’d just left and put her head in her hands, her body shaking with sobs. It was hard and it hurt. Because she couldn’t deal with herself when she was like this, either. 20:03, day 9 of 28 Spending time with Eddie was one of Rosie’s favourite hobbies. But spending time by herself was her favourite hobby. Settled into the sofa, she pulled a thick, woolen blanket up to her chest, took a small sip from her glass of white wine and cracked open her journal. It was something she tried to do every day, so that when the days got dark, she could remember all the reasons she loved to be alive. Some days, she wrote about the way the leaves felt when they crunched beneath her shoes. Other days, she wrote about the bar of chocolate Eddie bought for her when he went through the petrol station. But today she was writing about the golden wash of the sun in the morning and the Dutch method and the fact she beat the binmen. She wrote about the opportunity to continue improving at work and dancing around the kitchen and cleaning pasta sauce off the floor with the man she loved. She wrote that life was beautiful and everything was going to be okay and she hoped that one day, in the very near future, she could read it to herself on a dark, dark day and be reminded that she could get through it. She had to get through it, so she could keep having days like these. 20:03, day 24 of 28 The quiet was unbearable when she was by herself at night. She cranked the volume up on the TV but all it did was make her head hurt. Her phone dinged with a notification and she scrambled to grab it, hoping, praying that it was Eddie, wanting to talk and smooth things over. It was Michelle. ‘I hope you’re feeling a better. Take the time you need and let us know if there’s anything we can do. M’ Rosie yelled out and threw her phone against the wall before burying her head in her blanket and starting to cry again. The kindness of other people was so painfully unbearable because she was so painfully undeserving. She was cruel and unkind and nothing but a ball of burning rage that destroyed everything it touched. She wanted to be asleep but her stomach hurt so badly and she couldn’t switch her brain off and truly wondered if she even really deserved to be there at all. She wondered how she had any friends left or whether she deserved anything good in life or whether, actually, she just brought misery to those around her. She wondered if Eddie would ever come home or if she’d still have a job to go to in the morning, or if she even wanted either of those things to happen because life would be far easier if she didn’t have people close to hurt or let down. She wondered why she was like this. She wondered how a young woman – someone who had been described as bright and bubbly and Rosie – could exist in such a violent hurricane of self-destruction that, when the dark days came, she didn’t even recognise herself anymore. She opened her journal. It was day 24 of day 28, and Rosie didn’t know if she wanted to see day 28. This article has been sponsored by the Psychiatry Research Trust, who are dedicated to supporting young scientists in their groundbreaking research efforts within the field of mental health. If you wish to support their work, please consider donating.

Image Source: Martine Mussies on Unsplash As a Research Assistant on the newly launched Cycle Study at KCL, I am hugely motivated to improve outcomes for people living with Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD). PMDD is a severe mood disorder in which symptoms, like anxiety and depression, happen in the weeks leading up to the start of a period. For more about PMDD see earlier Inspire the Mind article by Dr Ellen Lambert. The Cycle Study, led by researchers at King's College London (KCL), explores how PMDD fluctuates across the menstrual cycle and how it is influenced by environment, co-occurring conditions, and broader indicators of health. To do this, we combine questionnaire data with wearable device insights such as sleep and activity patterns. We hope to gain an understanding of why premenstrual disorders occur and how to provide better support and treatment. As part of the Cycle Study, I interviewed participants with lived experience of PMDD. Through these interviews, it became clear to me that the lack of awareness of the disorder has seriously affected access to effective support by health professionals. For most, this has had serious impacts on their quality of life, with many describing feelings of suicidality. With this in mind, it’s no surprise that mention of PMDD in the recent renewed women’s health strategy for England gave hope of real change and awareness. The renewed strategy outlines actions for change for the next 10 years of women’s health. Importantly, it sets out exactly how and when these changes will happen, naming organisations, like the NIHR and Department of Health and Social Care, responsible for their delivery. In this article, I’ll explore some key actions in the renewed strategy and what they might mean for people with PMDD, from changes in healthcare and education, to wider public understanding and conversation around PMDD. Image Source: Keenan Constance on Unsplash PMDD in the Renewed Strategy The first mention of PMDD accompanies the broad commitment to improve support for conditions that affect women disproportionately or differently, with the recognition that women and girls may experience mental health challenges differently to men throughout their lives. Though not directly linked to an action point, the recognition of PMDD in the report is a welcome development in delivering change for people with PMDD. The second mention of PMDD is in action 49, which vows to improve mental health support for women and girls: “we will promote collaborative working between mental health and women’s health sectors to improve women’s knowledge and healthcare professional understanding of the critical relationships between female hormones and mental health. This will help improve care for conditions like PMDD.” The commitment to promoting collaborative working between mental health and women’s health sectors represents a positive acknowledgement of the complex physical and mental symptoms of PMDD. Many women told me of the lack of continuity of care, and the frustration of returning to their GP once a line of treatment was unsuccessful. Due to the complexity of PMDD, the importance of multidisciplinary management has also been recognised in the literature. This could involve specialists like psychologists and gynaecologists working together to provide personalised care that supports the emotional and physical symptoms of PMDD. However, it remains unclear what this collaborative working will involve and how it will be implemented. Clarity is also needed on how successful collaboration between mental health and women’s health sectors will be measured. Consequently, while the recognition of collaborative care is a step in the right direction, the success of this commitment ultimately depends on how the Department of Health and Social Care, alongside NHS England, intend to action this within their 0-3 year stated timeframe. The Renewed Strategy: A Broad View Although PMDD is only mentioned twice in the report, many other actions could also have important outcomes for people with the disorder. A refreshing observation is the honest reflection on the current landscape of women’s healthcare in England. The now former Secretary of State for Health and Social Care, Wes Streeting, leads by stating that “The NHS has a problem with basic, everyday sexism and an appalling culture of medical misogyny”. Indeed, many of the women that I spoke to experienced a lack of understanding and a dismissal of symptoms by health professionals. Broadly, the strategy recognises a need for women to be heard and to be taken seriously and to speed up diagnosis and treatment by redesigning clinical pathways. A second important aim is to launch a new programme to improve education for girls about their menstrual health, investing £1 million from this year to support targeted work in schools and community settings. The inclusion of PMDD education in this programme would be a huge step in increasing disorder awareness, given that many women that I spoke to failed to recognise their symptoms as PMDD for many years. They also spoke of the stigma and “double taboo” of opening up about both menstrual and mental health challenges. Education for girls is imperative, and I’d also argue that educating boys about menstrual health, including PMDD, is equally important. Amid the increasingly divisive influence of the ‘manosphere’, it is now more important than ever to involve boys and men in these conversations to foster understanding and compassion between boys and girls. Ultimately, removing the shame and stigma around PMDD requires a societal level of understanding, and this of course includes boys and men. Image Source: Ali Ahmad Danesh on Pexels Another broad aim related to PMDD involves improving research of women’s health needs by prioritising unmet areas of need (Action 104), increasing research funding on the detection, prevention, and treatment of long-term conditions (Action 109). Additional funding would be of great benefit, allowing researchers to carry out larger studies to build a stronger understanding of how PMDD can be effectively managed. Image Source: Nick Fewings on Unsplash Conclusion There’s no doubt that the renewed Women’s Health strategy for England is a promising start to improving outcomes for people with PMDD. The inclusion of PMDD in the strategy will likely benefit efforts to increase disorder awareness among health professionals and members of the public. Broader efforts to speed up diagnosis and treatment, coupled with the potential for collaborative working between mental health and women’s health services, could have lifesaving effects for people with PMDD. However, the UK government’s November 2025 Men’s Health Strategy received £8 million in funding - 60% more than the £5 million allocated to the renewed Women’s Health Strategy. This is despite women making up 51% of the population. So, whilst a culture of sexism within the NHS is acknowledged in the new strategy, true recognition going forward would also be reflected in equal funding for both the Men’s and Women’s Health Strategies. It is also important that improving the mental health of women and girls be added as a measure of success, to ensure that care for people with PMDD is truly prioritised and actioned. This, combined with the promised increased funding of women’s health research more generally, leaves me with hope that we can improve our understanding of PMDD, to support better management and ultimately, prevention. The success of these commitments is not simply a policy issue but a crucial determining factor in ensuring that women and girls with PMDD have the best chance at leading long and healthy lives.

Image Source: Getty Images on Unsplash+ Around menstruation, people may not lose motivation so much as raise the bar for what feels worth doing. Premenstrual syndrome (PMS) refers to the emotional and physical changes many people experience in the days before a menstrual period, including anxiety, low mood, irritability, fatigue, and bloating. At its most severe, when symptoms are debilitating and interfere with daily life, it is known as premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD). Despite affecting an estimated 250 million people worldwide, we still do not fully understand why these symptoms occur, or why some people experience them much more intensely than others. These unanswered questions drive my PhD research at Cambridge, where I study the links between the menstrual cycle, motivation, and mental health. What Happens Across the Menstrual Cycle? The menstrual cycle is divided into two main stages: the follicular phase and the luteal phase, separated by ovulation. The follicular phase is named after the follicle, a small fluid-filled sac in the ovary that contains an egg. As the follicle matures, it releases increasing amounts of oestrogen. When oestrogen reaches its peak, it triggers ovulation — the release of the egg. If the egg is not fertilised, the body enters the luteal phase. During this stage, progesterone rises, alongside a smaller second increase in oestrogen. Then, in the days before menstrual bleeding begins, both hormones fall sharply. Not everyone responds to these hormonal shifts in the same way. Some people are more sensitive to progesterone, others to oestrogen. Some are sensitive to both, and some to neither. The more sensitive someone is, the more likely they are to experience premenstrual mental health symptoms. My research looks at how oestrogen affects the brain and behaviour, which could help explain why these symptoms happen. Image created in BioRender.com, adapted from a journal article. Why Focus on Oestrogen Sensitivity? I'm particularly interested in oestrogen because the brain regions involved in motivation contain many oestrogen receptors. When oestrogen is high, it can increase dopamine in these regions. Dopamine is a key brain chemical that supports our drive to pursue rewards. It's what gets you out the door for a run even when you'd rather stay on the sofa. When oestrogen falls sharply before menstruation, this dopamine boost may weaken, potentially contributing to changes in motivation and mood. How does Mood Shift with Oestrogen? We studied the same participants at two key points in their cycle: the oestrogen peak around ovulation, and the sharp drop in oestrogen just before menstruation. Participants reported more mental health symptoms during the low-oestrogen phase. Low mood, heightened anxiety, and less enjoyment of things they usually liked were all more common at this time. These are experiences many people recognise in themselves, discuss with friends, or see reflected in conversations online. What about Motivation? Researchers often study motivation using effort-based decision-making tasks, where people decide whether a reward is worth the effort needed to earn it. Would you do 100 squats for £2? What about £5? In our online version, participants helped feed a hungry octopus. Each round, they were offered some shrimp in exchange for clicking their mouse repeatedly. The number of shrimp on offer, and how fast and how long they had to click for, varied each round. We tailored the clicking to each person beforehand, so every offer was achievable. The question wasn't whether they could do it, but whether they wanted to. Participants could accept or reject each offer. If they accepted and clicked fast enough for long enough, they won the shrimp and fed the octopus. If they rejected, they still got a single shrimp. We then used mathematical models to break motivation down into three parts: how willing people were to put in effort overall, how much rewards encouraged them, and how much effort put them off. For example, one person might click whether two or ten shrimp were offered, while another might only accept when the reward was large. As predicted, participants were less willing to put in effort overall in the days around menstruation than around ovulation, no matter what the offer was. More unexpectedly, the size of the reward mattered more to them around menstruation. They were less willing to work for small rewards, like two shrimp, but still willing to put in the effort for larger rewards, like four or five. So, motivation didn't simply drop. Participants became more selective about what was worth their energy. Crucially, the participants who became more selective also showed a smaller drop in mood during the premenstrual phase. This hints at a potentially protective response to the fall in oestrogen. Direct evidence for this is still limited, but one plausible explanation involves energy conservation. The premenstrual phase can be physically demanding, with common symptoms including fatigue, disrupted sleep, headaches, and cramping. Becoming more selective about which efforts feel worthwhile may therefore be a way of spending energy more carefully when the body has less to give. One way to think about it is like a phone switching into low power mode. As the battery runs down, the phone dims the screen, closes background apps, and prioritises essential functions. It still works, it just stops spending energy on things that are not necessary. The battery lasts longer and the important tasks still get done. Something similar may be happening here. Choosing not to invest in low-reward tasks could be a way of protecting energy for what feels worthwhile. And that protection may, in turn, help buffer against low mood. The reverse may also hold. If participants whose selectivity did not shift continued spending energy on low-reward demands, that ongoing expenditure could, over time, contribute to worsening mood. This remains a hypothesis rather than an established mechanism, and testing it directly is an important next step for future research. Is Hormonal Sensitivity Always a Vulnerability? Hormonal sensitivity is usually talked about as something that puts people at risk of premenstrual mood symptoms. Our study looked at people from the general population, not those with a diagnosis like PMDD, and the picture turned out to be more complex. For some people, becoming more selective about where to invest effort during the premenstrual phase may actually be adaptive. The next step is to understand how these adaptive responses work. People with PMDD experience much more severe premenstrual mood changes. Does the same shift in selectivity happen in them, or is the pattern different? If the shift is absent, that could be part of what makes their premenstrual mood changes so severe. And if so, could therapy or medication encourage this shift, and help relieve symptoms? By identifying mechanisms that already protect some people, we may be able to extend that protection to many more.