Beyond “R U OK?”: The Real Conversations We Need to Have About Mental Health

Beyond “R U OK?”:

The Real Conversations We Need to Have About Mental Health

R U OK Day rolls around each year, and with it comes the familiar flurry of social media posts, workplace initiatives, and well-meaning conversations. But here’s what I’ve been noticing: we’re all talking more about mental health, yet many of us still feel utterly unprepared when someone actually says, “No, I’m not OK.”

The question itself—“R U OK?”—seems simple enough. Four letters that carry the weight of genuine care and connection. Yet for many of us, asking feels loaded with uncertainty. What if they say no? What if I say the wrong thing? What if I’m not equipped to handle their response?

And therein lies the complexity of our current mental health landscape. We’ve made tremendous progress in reducing stigma and encouraging these conversations. Mental health literacy has improved, workplace policies have evolved, and social awareness campaigns have reached millions. But somewhere between the one-hour online courses and the Instagram infographics, we’ve created a curious paradox: everyone thinks they should be having these conversations, but few feel genuinely prepared for them.

The Training Trap

There’s something happening in our workplaces and communities that deserves our attention. After a brief mental health awareness session or completing an online module, people often feel they’ve been equipped to handle complex mental health conversations. A colleague recently told me, “I did the Mental Health First Aid course, so I should be able to help anyone who’s struggling.”

But here’s the reality: mental health conversations require more than a checklist of responses or a flowchart of appropriate actions. They require presence, genuine listening, and the humility to know our limits. They require us to sit with discomfort—both ours and someone else’s—without immediately trying to fix or solve.

The danger isn’t in the training itself; it’s in the false confidence that brief training can create. It’s the assumption that because we’ve learnt some techniques, we’re now qualified counsellors, crisis responders, or mental health advocates. This can lead to overstepping boundaries, offering inappropriate advice, or worse, dismissing someone’s experience because it doesn’t fit the framework we’ve learnt.

What Happens After “No, I’m Not OK”?

The silence that follows someone’s honest admission that they’re struggling is where the real work begins. This is the moment that tests our comfort level, our listening skills, and our ability to hold space without immediately jumping into rescue mode.

I’ve witnessed conversations where the response to “I’m not OK” becomes about the helper’s discomfort rather than the person’s need. Statements like “You’ll be fine,” “Think positive thoughts,” or “Have you tried meditation?” emerge from our own anxiety about not knowing what to say. We fill the uncomfortable silence with solutions, advice, or platitudes because sitting with someone’s pain feels unbearable.

But perhaps the most powerful response to “I’m not OK” is simply: “Thank you for telling me. I’m here to listen.”

The Stigma That Remains

Despite our increased awareness, subtle forms of stigma persist. They show up in the way we talk about mental health as something that happens to “other people.” They appear in our surprise when high-achieving colleagues or seemingly happy friends admit to struggling. They emerge in our unconscious expectations that people should “bounce back” quickly or that seeking professional help means someone is “really unwell.”

Stigma also lives in our own reluctance to admit when we’re not OK. We’ve become better at asking others, but many of us still struggle to honestly answer when someone asks us. We worry about being seen as weak, unreliable, or burdensome. We fear that our struggles might be minimised or that our professional reputation might suffer.

Moving Beyond the Surface

Real mental health conversations require us to move beyond the script. They ask us to show up authentically, to admit when we don’t know what to say, and to recognise that our role isn’t to fix but to connect.

This means acknowledging that some conversations will be awkward. Some will leave us feeling helpless. Some will require us to encourage professional support because we’ve reached the limits of what friendship or collegiality can provide.

It also means recognising that mental health isn’t just about crisis intervention. It’s about the daily practices that support our psychological wellbeing, the small moments of connection that remind us we’re not alone, and the ongoing conversations that normalise the full spectrum of human experience.

Creating Genuine Connection

When we shift our focus from having the “right” response to creating genuine connection, the pressure changes. Instead of needing to be mental health experts, we can simply be present humans. Instead of solving problems, we can validate experiences. Instead of offering quick fixes, we can offer consistent support.

This doesn’t mean we abandon learning or training. It means we approach these opportunities with realistic expectations about what they can and cannot provide. It means supplementing formal training with ongoing self-reflection, peer support, and professional development.

Coach Yourself

As you navigate mental health conversations in your own life, consider these coaching questions:

Before the conversation:

- What are my motivations for asking “R U OK?” Am I genuinely prepared to hear and hold the answer?

- What discomfort do I feel around mental health conversations, and how might this impact my ability to listen?

- What are the limits of my capacity to support others, and how can I communicate these boundaries kindly?

During difficult conversations:

- Am I listening to understand, or listening to respond with solutions?

- What assumptions am I making about this person’s experience or needs?

- How can I validate their feelings without minimising their experience?

After challenging conversations:

- What support do I need after holding space for someone else’s struggles?

- How do I know when to encourage professional help, and how can I do this supportively?

- What did this conversation teach me about my own mental health practices?

Reflecting on your own wellbeing:

- How comfortable am I with honestly answering “R U OK?” when asked?

- What prevents me from reaching out when I’m struggling?

- How do I practice mental health support for myself, not just others?

R U OK Day serves as an important reminder that connection matters, that checking in on each other creates stronger communities, and that simple questions can open profound conversations. But let’s move beyond the day itself to create year-round practices of genuine care, honest communication, and supportive presence.

The goal isn’t to become amateur therapists or mental health experts. The goal is to become better humans—more present, more curious, more willing to sit with discomfort, and more honest about our own struggles and limitations.

Because sometimes the most helpful thing we can do is simply show up, listen deeply, and remind someone they’re not alone in their experience. And sometimes, the most courageous thing we can do is honestly answer when someone asks us: “R U OK?”

What mental health conversations are you avoiding, and what support do you need to approach them with greater confidence and compassion?