My name is Andrew Frawley. I'm a mental health advocate and I've been dedicated to this cause for my entire career.
I grew up in suburban Virginia — a place where the American dream is supposedly still alive. My father is a blue-collar painter who worked his way up to own a small business. My mother is a PTA mom still famous for her cookies.
My early years were like a sales pitch for America's middle-class. Modest suburbs, a family of four in diverse public schools, and recreation sports leagues on the weekend. On paper, it was everything that we're told to strive for.
The difficult truth, though, is that beneath the symbols of material security was often pain. Unfortunately, I've come to see this pain as a feature, not a bug, of an American culture that profits off our anxiety.