Each of us has a storyteller inside our brain, telling us about the people in our life, the events that have and are unfolding, and even about ourselves. Most of the time, we don’t even notice it’s there — it’s just the background track running in our minds, with us assuming it’s accurately reporting to us all the details of our experience. But that storyteller is at the heart of the first in a set of what I believe to be the five fundamental principles of mental health:

The quality of your life is predicated on the quality of your narrative.

If the story you are telling yourself is full of defeat, blame, or “I’ll never get it right,” it’s no surprise when you feel stuck. If your story is one of learning, adapting, growing, and overcoming, you move differently through the world. The story doesn’t just describe your life — it directs it.

Stories Shape Identity

Think of your narrative as a camera filter. Some filters are designed to block out harsh light, others accentuate certain colors, and still others mute tones to create a darker mood. The scene itself doesn’t change, but the way it’s captured does. Similarly, two people can face the exact same setback: one filter emphasizes the shadows, turning the moment into proof of failure; another filter brings out the highlights, framing the same experience as fuel for growth. The facts are identical, but the stories are worlds apart.

Research supports this idea. Psychologists studying “narrative identity” have found that the way people make sense of their experiences is one of the strongest predictors of mental health. In fact, people who frame their past as a story of growth and resilience tend to report higher levels of life satisfaction and lower levels of depression. Your story influences how you interpret challenges, how you relate to others, and what you believe about your future. Over time, it becomes your identity.

But like I said before, much of the time, our story is being told without us even realizing it. Our narrator runs on autopilot, stitching together interpretations and conclusions that feel true simply because they’ve been repeated over and over again. That can be dangerous: a story left unchecked can quietly steer us into all kinds of directions that we don’t want to go, without our consent. And yet, just as a setback can be reframed as either failure or growth, the narrator itself isn’t unchangeable; it only feels that way when we stop questioning it. In reality, the voice that tells our story is one of the few things over which we can exert tremendous control — if we choose to bring it into awareness and become the author of the narrative, not just the listener.

Editing the Story

And that’s the most encouraging part of this principle: stories aren’t fixed. They can be reexamined, revised and rewritten. Therapy, journaling, or even simple reflection are all ways of noticing the narrator and guiding the story it tells.

This doesn’t mean ignoring pain or pretending everything is fine. It means refusing to let the hardest chapter set the tone for the whole narrative. My goal — both with clients and in my own life — is to separate the suffering that’s inherent to being human from the suffering we create for ourselves through distorted or self-defeating stories. Doing that requires conscious, intentional work.

One practical way to begin is by paying attention to the language you use with yourself. Try shifting:

· “I have to go to work.” → “I choose to go to work.”

· “I have to take care of my kids.” → “I get to take care of my kids.”

If you’ve been following the newsletter, you may recognize this challenge from the welcome series. It’s a small cognitive hack, but it carries weight: reframing obligation into agency, and agency into gratitude. Give it a try — and notice how even the slightest shift in narration changes the way you feel. Sometimes the smallest edits ripple the farthest.

Be well.

It’s probably a bit self-defeating for a psychotherapist to go down this rabbit hole, but I’ve been thinking a lot about the oversaturation of therapy models, self-help content, and mental health apps flooding the attention vacuum of our TikTok/App Store/Instagram psyches, particularly as I’m on the precipice of joining the fray. Under the circumstances, it's easy to forget that some of the most profound shifts in how we feel mentally don’t require a deep dive into our subconscious—they require getting back to basics.

Eating well, moving often, and sleeping enough aren’t just good habits; they’re the biological foundation for psychological well-being. Research supports this: nearly 70% of Americans cite poor sleep, diet, or inactivity as barriers to mental wellness, even while engaging in therapy or wellness tools. When these foundations are weak, everything else we do has to work overtime—and even then, we often fall short of the change we’re hoping for.

We like to think of ourselves as a modern, advanced species. And in many ways, we are. But our brains are still wired for a world that existed thousands of years ago. For most of human history, we lived in close connection with the natural rhythms of the day. We rose with the sun, moved constantly in pursuit of food or safety, ate what the earth provided, and slept when it got dark. Our ancestors didn’t need sleep trackers, gym memberships, or nutrition apps. They moved, ate, and rested in sync with the environment; and their mental health, in many ways, benefited from that alignment.

Fast forward to today: most of us spend the majority of our time indoors, sitting for hours on end, eating processed food at irregular hours, and staring at screens well past sunset. It’s no wonder anxiety, depression, and burnout are epidemic-level issues.

The upside to all of this is that many of us don’t need to overhaul our lives to start feeling better. Sometimes the most powerful intervention is not more insight—but more movement, better food, and consistent sleep.

1. Eating: Fuel for the Brain

Our brains use more energy than any other organ in the body; so it’s no surprise that what we eat directly affects how we feel mentally. Diets rich in sugar, processed carbs, and artificial ingredients can spike blood sugar, disrupt hormones, and contribute to inflammation—all factors linked to depression and anxiety. Conversely, diets emphasizing whole foods, healthy fats, complex carbs, and plenty of hydration are strongly associated with improved mood stability and lower rates of depression and anxiety.

The SMILES trial, a 2017 randomized controlled study, showed that people with moderate to severe depression who improved their diets experienced significantly greater reductions in depressive symptoms than those who received only social support. The emerging science of the gut-brain axis also suggests that fiber-rich, fermented, and anti-inflammatory foods support mental health by promoting healthy gut bacteria and neurotransmitter balance.

It’s not just what we eat, but how. Are we rushing through meals? Eating in the car? Snacking late at night? Slowing down, savoring our food, and eating regular, balanced meals can restore a sense of rhythm and regulation—benefiting our body and mind.

2. Exercise: Movement as Medicine

It’s hard to overstate how powerful regular movement is for mental health. A 2023 review of over 90 studies found that physical activity was 1.5 times more effective than medication or cognitive-behavioral therapy in reducing symptoms of depression, anxiety, and psychological distress. Movement increases blood flow to the brain, boosts endorphins, and improves sleep—all of which directly impact mood and stress regulation.

Our ancestors didn’t go to the gym or attend spin classes, but they moved constantly. They walked, climbed, lifted, hunted, and gathered. Movement wasn’t scheduled; it was life. Today, we sit—a lot—and our bodies feel it: stiff joints, low energy, and a subtle but constant restlessness we often mislabel as anxiety.

You don’t need to train like a professional athlete to feel the benefits. A brisk daily walk, bodyweight exercises, a light jog, or a bike ride can significantly shift your mental baseline. Movement—especially outdoors—grounds us, lifts our mood, and helps metabolize stress. I’ve told my clients for a long time that, simply put, fitness is the ultimate antidepressant and benzodiazepine: it calms, centers, and regulates—without the side effects.

3. Sleep: The Unsung Hero

Sleep is often the first thing we sacrifice and the last thing we prioritize. Yet it’s arguably the most essential pillar of mental health. During sleep, the brain processes emotions, consolidates memories, and regulates stress hormones. Poor sleep is linked to increased risk of depression, anxiety, irritability, and cognitive fog.

Even a single night of sleep deprivation decreases activity in the prefrontal cortex—the brain’s emotional regulation center—while increasing activity in the amygdala, which governs fear and reactivity.

Our ancestors slept in sync with the sun. They didn’t have artificial lighting, screens, or 24/7 access to stimulation. Today, we often treat sleep as an afterthought—something we squeeze in when everything else is done.

But if your mood is off—if you feel irritable, anxious, or foggy—ask yourself: how’s your sleep? Are you getting 7–9 hours? Going to bed and waking around the same time? Even small changes can help: dim lights an hour before bed, cut back on screen time (especially blue light), and avoid caffeine in the afternoon.

The Power of Simplicity

It’s easy to get lost in the complexity of mental health. We dig deep into trauma, diagnoses, brain chemistry—and all of that has value. But sometimes we need to come up for air and ask: am I giving my brain the basic support it needs?

Before we label our emotions or pathologize our stress, we should check the foundations:

Am I eating food that nourishes me?
Am I moving in a way that feels good and sustainable?
Am I sleeping enough to function?

Mental health isn’t just about what happens in the mind—it’s about how we care for the body that houses it. And in that way, some of the most meaningful healing starts not in the therapy office, but in the kitchen, the bedroom, or on a quiet walk through the neighborhood.

When we tend to these foundations, we often find that the world feels a little less overwhelming, and our inner life a little steadier. We’re not just brains walking around; taking care of our bodies isn’t just good for our physical health—it’s medicine for the mind.

Be well.

The Story You Tell: Why Your Narrative Shapes Your Life

The Physical Foundations: How Eating, Movement, and Sleep Anchor Our Mental Health