When No One Believed in My Ideas: Why Encouragement Shapes Mental Wellness and Creativity for Life

We all carry stories of when someone believed in us—and of when they didn’t. The words that either lift us or flatten us tend to stay.

Whether you’re a student, a parent, a professional, or someone trying to find your voice, encouragement matters more than we often realize. Especially in our formative years—when belief from someone else becomes the bridge to believing in ourselves.

Mental wellness, at its core, isn’t just about calm or clarity. It’s also about emotional safety. Feeling like you have the right to try. To fail. To create. To speak. And often, that right is shaped by whether someone told you that you could.

Why This Matters—for All of Us

Recent research backs this up. A longitudinal study in Development and Psychopathology (Masten et al., 2004) found that children who receive consistent emotional support from adults develop significantly more resilience in adolescence and beyond. Another meta-analysis in the Journal of Youth and Adolescence (Raposa et al., 2019) found that mentoring relationships are linked to improved emotional wellness and lower anxiety—even years later.

And it’s not just emotional. It’s neurological. Being seen and supported literally reshapes the brain toward confidence, not fear.

That support doesn’t always come. And when it doesn’t, the silence can echo for decades.

I know. Because I’ve lived it.

My Story: The Idea No One Thought Was Worthwhile

Growing up in India, I had a brain wired for ideas. I was constantly observing things and thinking: “How can this be better?” I didn’t need training for it—I just had that kind of mind. And while today we’d probably call it creative problem-solving or design thinking, back then, it was just… inconvenient.

Rote learning ruled the classroom. Structure was king. Teachers lectured; students listened. Creativity was not encouraged. Curiosity was often discouraged.

I still remember one teacher in particular. She was brilliant. But she was also terrifying. And in one of my final years before I moved to the U.S. for graduate school, she gave us a project: invent something new.

Finally, I thought. A chance to think differently.

I came up with a two-in-one hairbrush and hair dryer. For someone with my thick, wavy, unmanageable hair, it would have been life-changing. I was proud of it—not just the practicality, but the creativity. I knew it solved a real problem.

And I received the lowest grade in the class.

Her comment? “Not practical. Feels impossible.”

This was the year 2000. Today, we have Dyson, Revlon, and dozens of other heated brushes that do exactly what I envisioned.

That moment stuck with me. Not because I didn’t move on—I did. I went on to become an entrepreneur, launching ventures that were ahead of their time. But something shifted that day. A quiet hesitation began to settle in.

The kind that makes you ask yourself:

Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe I’m not good enough. Maybe different means wrong.

Encouragement Is Emotional Wellness

Encouragement shapes identity. It teaches us to believe in our capacity. In our voice. In our ideas.

When I started my own business years later, I had an idea for home-cooked meals —long before Blue Apron or SHEF. And again, I believed in it. But the voice in the back of my mind still whispered: Will people think this is too weird? Too early? Too much?

What if, back in that classroom, someone had said: You’re an idea person. You think in ways others don’t. That’s a strength.

That kind of affirmation doesn’t just help with confidence. It changes the way you navigate the world.

Teaching with That Memory in My Pocket

Now, as an educator, I keep that memory with me—on purpose.

This semester, I’m teaching a communication class that combines public speaking, writing, and structure. I offer detailed outlines, speech formats, and even five-part introductions and three-point body points—because structure, I’ve learned, helps build clarity.

But this semester, one student came to me with something different. He wanted to deliver a five-minute speech on the history of America—as a performance. Dramatic, musical even. He wanted to use sound effects like boom! and theatrical delivery. Most surprisingly, he said he didn’t want to follow my outline.

He wasn’t being difficult. He was just curious. “What if there are other ways to structure a speech?” he asked.

And in that moment, I saw my younger self—the girl with the hair dryer-brush idea. Someone willing to push boundaries. To create instead of comply.

So I said yes.

I gave him the freedom to explore, with just enough guidance to keep his core message intact. And what he delivered was so fun. Not just because it was different—but because it was his.

We Teach Who We Were

I carry that memory with me—the one of being shut down. And I bring it into the classroom intentionally.

Because now, I get to be the teacher who says yes. Who encourages difference. Who lets a student experiment, even if it doesn’t follow a perfect outline.

This is the season to try. To fail safely. To create. That’s what school should be. And that’s what encouragement makes possible.

Whether you’re a parent, mentor, coach, or boss—when someone comes to you with a spark, fan the flame. Don’t dismiss it because it doesn’t fit your format. Give them the space to build something of their own.

When we tell someone their ideas are worth exploring, we are building more than their resume. We are building their resilience. Their ability to adapt. Their trust in themselves. All of which are fundamental to lifelong mental wellness.

Full Circle

Maybe that’s why I get emotional when I speak to my students about their strengths. Because in affirming them, I’m quietly healing something in me. Something that once wondered if it was okay to think differently.

So when I say to a student, “You’d be amazing at this,” I don’t say it lightly. I say it from experience.

We don’t always know which words will stick. But I’ve learned that believing in someone’s potential—especially when they can’t yet see it for themselves—is one of the most meaningful things we can do for another human being.

And in that, we don’t just nurture their mental well-being.

We nurture our own.

References

Masten, A. S., Burt, K. B., Roisman, G. I., Obradović, J., Long, J. D., & Tellegen, A. (2004). Resources and resilience in the transition to adulthood: Continuity and change. Development and Psychopathology, 16(4), 1071–1094. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/15704828/

Raposa, E. B., Rhodes, J., Stams, G. J. J. M., Card, N., Burton, S., Schwartz, S. E., Sykes, L. A. Y., Kanchewa, S. S., Kupersmidt, J., & Hussain, S. (2019). The effects of youth mentoring programs: A meta-analysis of outcome studies. Journal of Youth and Adolescence, 48(3), 423–443. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30661211/