Here’s the truth: most people don’t want a workplace where everyone’s perfectly fine all the time. They want a workplace where it’s safe not to be.

That doesn’t happen through wellness initiatives or LinkedIn posts during Mental Health Week. It happens when someone with authority says, “Here’s what I’ve been through. Here’s how I managed. And here’s what I wish I knew sooner.”

Leadership isn’t about having it all together; it’s about going first, especially when it’s uncomfortable.

This year’s Mental Health Week theme, “Unmasking Mental Health,” reminds us that the masks we wear — especially at work — can be heavy. Storytelling, when led by those in positions of power, can help lift that weight. It’s how we show our teams that they’re not alone behind theirs.

So how do stories change things? Let’s start with why they matter.

Why It Matters

When leaders speak up, it sends a strong message: You can struggle and succeed here.

Storytelling from a position of leadership can help break stigma and open doors. It shows employees that it’s possible to struggle and still succeed. It gives them permission to take their own mental health seriously and to ask for help if they need it.

I can think of the story a client shared with me about working at a company known for championing mental health — hosting events, promoting mental health days, and creating campaigns. But on her actual team, nobody talked about it. The silence was loud. So when she finally told her boss she’d taken a mental health day, the reaction wasn’t negative, it was just… unfamiliar. Her leader didn’t know how to respond.

It’s not that people don’t care. It’s just that no one’s ever modelled what a conversation about mental health actually looks like. 

In real-time.

But when we say “leaders should share stories,” what kind of stories are we actually talking about? Not all stories serve the same purpose, and nor do they all feel equally safe to tell.

That’s why it helps to think in two categories: macro and micro.

The Two Kinds of Stories: Macro and Micro

You don’t need to be in crisis or have a diagnosis to tell a mental health story — your story is powerful no matter how big or small. But if you’re wondering what kind of stories to share, there are two you can tap into: Macro and Micro. 

Macro stories are the big ones, including diagnoses, major illness episodes, and hospitalization. They are deeply personal, often vulnerable, and not always relatable to your team as a whole. These stories have weight. They also need distance. You need to be far enough on the other side to talk about what got you through it, not just what brought you down.

Micro stories, though? These are your superpowers. They’re the everyday realities: stress that sneaks up, feelings of anxiety before a big presentation, the moment you realize you’re not coping as well this week as last. We all live with these fluctuations. Talking about them makes it normal.

But it’s important not to confuse honesty with unloading.

Naming your stress without a solution isn’t leadership; it’s venting. Share what’s real and what you’re doing about it. That’s what gives your team permission to name their own reality and look for support.

Some stories, including suicide, self-harm, hospitalization, require even more care. Those aren’t off-limits, but they need to be shared responsibly and with audience safety in mind.

Storytelling Safely: How Leaders Can Share with Impact and Care 

Storytelling as a leader is powerful — but it’s not about disclosure for the sake of disclosure. When it comes to mental health, stories should create safety, not discomfort. And that requires intention. 

If you’re in a leadership role and feel called to share something personal, here are some practical principles to keep in mind:

Make sure it’s processed, not raw. 

If you’re still in the thick of an experience, it may be too soon to share. Storytelling from a place of reflection — rather than active processing and distress — helps you communicate with clarity and protect your own well-being.

Know why you’re sharing. 

Start with purpose. Are you trying to reduce stigma? Model openness? Reassure others they’re not alone? Let that guide what and how much you choose to share. 

Stay focused on what’s useful. 

Your story should offer value: lessons learned, what helped, or what you wish you’d known earlier. Avoid sharing for catharsis. Remember, storytelling in the workplace isn’t therapy – but with a professional, it can certainly be therapeutic for you. 

Read the room. 

Consider the timing and emotional load of your team. What are people carrying? Will this story support them or unintentionally add pressure?

Avoid an accidental burden. 

Be mindful of your tone and the level of detail. Sharing vulnerability is important, but not if it leaves others feeling responsible for your pain. Make it clear that you’re okay now, and that support is available for others who may not be. 

Share without expectation of reciprocity. 

Your story is an invitation. Use it to create space for others to reflect, connect, or speak up if they choose. You’re able to signal that it’s safe, but never expect reciprocity. 

In short: Storytelling is a leadership tool, not a spotlight. When used well, it can help take the weight off others, encourage openness, and create a ripple effect of understanding and trust. But it needs to be done with care. Because when we tell stories about mental health at work, we’re not just telling people what we’ve been through — we’re sharing hope. 

The Role of Privilege and Power

Let’s be honest: not all stories land the same way, especially in the workplace. A story shared by a CEO hits differently than one shared by a junior associate. And that’s not just about storytelling skills, it’s about power.

When leaders share their mental health story, they’re taking a risk—but it’s not the same risk as someone earlier in their career. They likely won’t lose opportunities. They likely won’t be labelled as fragile or unreliable. Employees, on the other hand, live with those fears every day.

That’s why how a leader tells their story matters just as much as what they say.

I once heard about a senior executive who opened up about their stress and how they coped with it. Their go-to strategy? Taking an afternoon off to go for a ride on their $10,000 road bike. The intention was good. But the result? Alienation. Most employees can’t afford to disappear for an afternoon, let alone own luxury equipment. What was meant to be vulnerable came across as tone-deaf.

Privilege shows up in more ways than we realize. Do you have the money to access therapy out-of-pocket when your benefits run out? Do you have the flexibility to rearrange your calendar when you’re struggling? Do you have a team to delegate to? These things aren’t universal.

Before you share your story, ask yourself:

• Will this sound accessible to others?

• Am I naming the supports that made this possible?

• Am I reinforcing a message of possibility or just reinforcing the gap between me and my team?

Self-reflection deepens your story, and that kind of honesty is what people remember.

Catalyst, Not Cure

Here’s the thing, sharing your story won’t fix workplace mental health.

It won’t end burnout, dismantle stigma in one conversation, or make everyone suddenly feel safe. But it might open one door, unlock one conversation, or help someone breathe easier knowing they’re not the only one. And if enough leaders start doing that, then something shifts.

Take comfort in knowing we don’t need perfect stories, just real ones. And more than that, we need people willing to go first. Because when leaders tell the truth, they make it safer for everyone else to be, too.