Ellemental: Coming Out Like a Debutante
The first week it was published I bought the book The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins and Sawyer Robbins. The authors advocate for readers to “let them”—other people—talk negatively about you. Since you can’t control what they think.
Then you should “let you” choose your response. In the face of stigma I’ve chosen to let others think I’m not right in the head. They can think I’m way out there and I don’t care.
Today my response is to identify as the Brand Ambassador for mental health recovery. The title of this column on elemental recovery topics with a twist of humor gets at how I’ve branded myself.
Using the second L in the title hinting at the French word Elle for she. As in the women’s fashion magazine Elle. I’m coming out like a debutante with this new column.
How and where and in what setting each of us identifies sets the tone. Language empowers us. I’ve chosen not to use clinical terms when I speak. I humanize what happened to me by telling the person I’m with:
“In the fall of 1987 when I was 22 my beloved Sicilian grandfather was in a coma hooked up to a respirator in the intensive care unit. That was my breaking point. I was hospitalized, given pills, and sent back out into the world to find my way with no map.”
Each of us has the right to choose how we talk about our recovery. Acting loud and proud about your life story in advance is the way to neutralize the effect of other people’s oncoming stigma.
And yet it’s really OK to not want to talk about the hell-and-heartache. The choice is yours.
My goal as an Advocate is to promote recovery for everyone. And recovery is a lifestyle not a medical outcome. So, in fact, a person whose illness is chronic can have their version of what I call “a full and robust life.”

My aim is to spread joy, love, peace, and understanding everywhere I go. Fearing the people who fear us is no way to live. Capisce? Do you understand?
We should be accorded Dignity. I hope you dig into what I’ve written and take away this message: You are gorgeous simply because you exist.
What if at a mental health charity ball there could be a coming out Ball of Peers to tell our stories to the donors in attendance at the tables?
Each of us one at a time would take the stage to give a short talk about our recovery. The host could announce us: “Now entering the stage, Jane Doe.”
We can say: “With your support I was able to…”
You might say that we shouldn’t prettify mental illness by hosting a debutante ball for peers. However, finding beauty in everyone and everything is called for.
We are worthy of love and adoration with, despite, and because of our conditions. No matter our color, creed, or the chronicity of our illness we are beautiful kin here to support each other and grow together.
I’ll be the first to dance. Care to join me?