by Kayla Myers, Peer Support coordinator

June 24, 2025

I’m a mom of boys, loud, messy, hilarious, curious, deep-feeling boys.

And if I’m honest, one of my greatest hopes, besides them eventually learning to do their laundry and clean up after themselves, is that they grow into men who feel safe being whole. Not just strong or stoic or successful. But soft when they need to be. Honest. Vulnerable. Supported.

Because here’s the truth, one I’ve heard from every mom of boys and quietly carried myself: the world still struggles to let our sons be fully human.

We tell our kids, “It’s okay to cry,” but somewhere between kindergarten and manhood, that message gets lost. Replaced by phrases like “man up,” “don’t be soft,” and “real men don’t talk about their feelings.” And those words don’t just bounce off; they sink in. They settle deep.

As moms, we see their hearts before the world tells them to hide them. We see the quiet anxiety before the tough-guy mask forms. We know the pressure they carry in silence, the self-doubt buried behind humor, the frustration when they don’t have the words to explain what’s going on inside.

June is Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month. And if it reminds me of anything, it’s this:

We don’t just need to raise good men.
We need to raise whole men.

Men who know it's okay to ask for help.
Men who’ve had practice expressing what they feel.
Men who’ve seen someone care about what’s happening beneath the surface.

Here’s what I’m doing, or I should say, what I’m trying, daily:

• I ask them how they’re feeling, and I try not to rush past the silence.
• I talk about therapy like it’s normal, because it is.
• I praise emotional honesty just as much as achievements.
• I work on asking for help myself, because they’re always watching.

In my eyes, no boy should grow up believing his feelings make him weak.

So, whether you're a parent, an aunt, a coach, a teacher, or a friend, be part of the voice that says:

You don’t have to pretend you're okay when you’re not.
You’re not less of a man for needing support.
You’re more of one for knowing when to reach out.

To my sons, and all the boys growing into men:
Your mind matters.
Your emotions matter.
You matter.

Let’s raise them to believe it.

(Edited and Enhanced with ChatGPT)

by Kayla Myers, Peer Support Coordinator

January 28, 2025

April is Autism Awareness Month, a time that holds deep meaning for my family and countless others around the world. My son is almost 9 years old, and he is non-speaking. While he may not use words in the way most people do, he communicates in a hundred other beautiful, meaningful ways. I am always seeking the words for my personal hero, my son.

When I first heard the words “your child is on the autism spectrum,” I felt everything at once: fear, love, confusion, and an overwhelming desire to understand what the future might hold. I imagined the challenges he might face, the misunderstandings, the uphill battles. But what I couldn’t yet see was how much he would teach me. He has taught me valuable lessons about patience, resilience, perspective, and the power of connection that doesn’t require words.

Our days are filled with routines and rhythms that make sense to him. He used to spend hours lining up his toys in a way only he could understand, watching water swirling endlessly down the drain, and listening to the same song over and over again. These are just the things that bring him comfort and joy. They are just a few examples of how he experiences the world. And when I slow down and truly see things through his eyes, I realize how much intention, beauty, and clarity live in the moments that I used to overlook.

He may be non-speaking, but he is never silent. His laughter lights up the room when something speaks his language. His eyes sparkle when he wants to share a moment with me. His hands flap joyfully when he’s proud of himself or when he is excited. And when he’s overwhelmed, I feel his pain in my bones. Even when he doesn’t say, “Mom, I need help,” I know. And I respond with everything I have.

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned as a mother is this: communication is so much more than words. It’s gestures, eye contact, presence, energy, and love. In our home, we celebrate every form of expression. Whether it’s pointing, using a communication device, pulling me toward what he needs, or simply placing his hand in mine when he’s seeking comfort. These are his words. And they are valid. They are powerful. And this is when I feel so connected to the idea of connection.

I’ve always been a people person. I may not excel at the things most people do, but I get people. I easily read between the lines, I am very aware of the subtle shifts in body language, the emotion behind a glance, the weight carried in a quiet moment. I’ve come to understand that everyone has a story, and that what we see on the surface is just one layer of many. I know that life can be painful. And I find grace in my ability to hold space for others, not to fix or solve, but simply to sit with them in their pain, to truly see them, and to understand even just a fragment of what they’re carrying.

But it’s my son, my beautiful, non-speaking son — who has helped me take that ability to a deeper level. He has taught me how to truly listen without words, how to tune in to the language of presence, energy, and emotion. In walking alongside him, I’ve learned to support what’s unspoken with more compassion and clarity than I ever thought possible.

Autism Awareness Month is about more than awareness, it’s about acceptance, understanding, and celebration. It’s about recognizing that autistic individuals, whether they speak or not, bring extraordinary strengths, perspectives, and beauty into this world. My son has shown me that every child deserves to be seen, heard, and honored exactly as they are.

So if you’re reading this, I invite you to lean in. Listen. Learn. Unlearn. Listen to parents like me, yes — but more importantly, listen to autistic individuals themselves. Their voices matter most. They are the true experts on their own experience. And often, the very people the world tries to speak for.

Let’s build a world where all kinds of communication are valued, where neurodiversity is not just accepted but embraced, and where being non-speaking never means being unheard.

To my beautiful boy: you are brave, man, you are brave. You are brilliant and I know more brilliant than I could even understand. And you are deeply loved, exactly as you are. I will always be your voice until the world learns how to truly listen. 

Edited and enhanced by ChatGPT

by  Beth Ayers, Family Peer Support Lead

May 2, 2023

The U.S. Surgeon General in his 2021 Advisory: Protecting Youth Mental Health stated, “Every child’s path to adulthood- reaching developmental and emotional milestones, learning healthy social skills, and dealing with problems- is different and difficult. Many face added challenges along the way, often beyond their control. There’s no map and the road is never straight. But the challenges today’s generation of young people face are unprecedented and uniquely hard to navigate. And the effect these challenges have had on their mental health is devastating.” He goes on to say, “Mental health challenges in children, adolescents, and young adults are real, and they are widespread. But most importantly, they are treatable, and often preventable.”

But before prevention comes acceptance. Before we can accept that mental health is important and affects our kids, we have to acknowledge it, talk about it, and address the issues surrounding it. We have to fight against the stigma. We have to recognize mental illness as the physical illness it is and not a character defeat.

The 2021 Montana Youth Risk Behavior Survey reported that “among high school students, 41% have felt so sad or hopeless for two or more weeks in a row that they stopped doing usual activities” and “22% seriously considered attempting suicide.” These numbers are staggering! My question is, what are we as Montanans doing about this? Are we even aware that our kids are struggling? Are there programs in the schools to address this? Do teachers and other students feel prepared to support the 41%? Do communities or schools have mental health support groups for youth? Can a student take a mental health day just like taking a sick day for any other illness? And if we are doing these things, is it enough? Are we addressing children’s and youth’s mental health openly and without judgement? Do we know, accept, and treat mental illness as the physical illness is it? Do we believe mental illness is treatable and that people with it can lead healthy and satisfying lives?

The U.S. Surgeon General goes on to say, “Ensuring health children and families will take an all-of-society effort, including policy, institutional, and individual changes in how we view and prioritize mental health. Our obligation to act is not just medical- it’s moral.” The Advisory states that “each of us has a role to play” and lists ways to take action.

The first way listed is to “Recognize that mental health is an essential part of overall health.” I love the statement the Advisory makes about this: “Mental health conditions are real, common, and treatable, and people experiencing mental health challenges deserve support, compassion, and care, not stigma and shame.” As a parent who has raised a child who experiences mental health challenges, this hits home. Too often mental health challenges are assumed to go away on their own or they can be “cured” with changes in parenting style. Even well-meaning suggestions for how to “fix” my child’s mental illness has left me feeling alone and misunderstood. As a parent I would have rather been listened to and accepted and encouraged to seek medical help as I assume people would have done had I been talking about a physical ailment.

Another way the Advisory says we can take action is to “Empower youth and their families to recognize, manage, and learn from difficult emotions.” We can create an environment that is safe for families and youth to express how they’re feeling and offer support and validation. We can also share our experience and hope. We can help others develop a mental health tool box where they can add tools to help them such as self-care practices, the 8 Dimensions of Wellness, crisis planning, natural supports, and mental health education. The 8 Dimension of Wellness include social, emotional, spiritual, intellectual, physical, environmental, financial, and occupational. The dimensions are interconnected and being healthy in many dimensions of our lives leads to overall wellness. For more information on the 8 Dimensions of Wellness, visit samhsa.gov for SAMHSA’s workbook titled “Creating a Healthier Life: A Step-by-Step Guide to Wellness.”

According to the Advisory, a third way to take action is to “Ensure that every child has access to high-quality, affordable, and culturally competent mental health care.” Personally, this feels daunting to me. But as a parent, I can learn to advocate for my child’s needs and treatment and help others do the same. We can make sure screenings for anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts are used in schools and at doctor appointments for early detection and intervention.

If we all do our part, we can stop the stigma surrounding mental illness and we can prioritize our mental health and that of our children. This year, let’s not just be aware of mental illness. Let’s accept it as a common health problem and care for those who struggle with it and their families.

by  Beth Ayers, Family Peer Support Lead

December 4, 2021

“I have been where you are.”
“I understand.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It’s okay to ask questions.”
“You have rights.”
“You are an important part of the process.”
“You are doing the best you can.”
“Here is what helped me.”
“You are not alone.”
“There is hope.”

As a parent raising a child with behavioral health challenges, these words are lifesaving; especially when they come from a parent who has also raised a child with behavioral health challenges. Or in recovery terms, has lived experience. We who have walked in their shoes bring to a struggling parent empathy, practical knowledge, judgement-free listening, empowerment, support, and hope. This unique role is called Family Peer Support.

A Family Peer Supporter not only has lived experience, they have been trained to effectively support and empower other parents or caregivers raising a child with behavioral health challenges. A Family Peer Supporter walks alongside the parent to offer experience, strength, hope, resources, and tools to help the parent achieve their recovery goals for their family. A Family Peer Supporter is the bridge between the professional and medical behavioral health world and the parent and helps the parent advocate for themselves and their child. A Family Peer Supporter helps the parent navigate the complex behavioral health system and engage in family centered planning.

A Family Peer Supporter’s role is unique and invaluable to the treatment team and to the well-being and success of the family. A Family Peer Supporter offers a voice that is needed and missing in the behavioral health system and in the lives of parents experiencing the complexities and stigma of raising a child with behavioral health challenges. When visiting hours are over and doctors go home, Family Peer Supporters are there to light the way to recovery, resiliency, and healing.