​So, about a three years ago my therapist suggested that I carry a bag that consist of things that bring me happiness and relax my mind. These things can be snacks, books, pictures, and anything that is personal. 

I remember when I first saw your big eyes. I wanted everything for you that I never had. A mother who adores you, a little girl. You could not do anything wrong. Someone once looked at you at the tender young age of 3 and said the universe gave you a handful. I wanted to be the mother that always wanted; to encourage you to be your best, and do better than I. The dreams I had for you were sitting in motion, you had what I wanted in my dreams. ​

​All this talk about privilege makes me sit back and ponder, why don't we talk about the privilege of not managing a mental illness? 
 
Before we begin let us break down the definition of mental health and mental illness, because we often use them interchangeably and this causes many people to stigmatize preventative services. 

​There she goes, Summer with its hot days and plenty of sun. I watch the children in the streets looking like they don't have a worry in the world. I watch as the seasons begin to change. I feel autumn weather is coming. It is the time when the deciduous trees shed their leaves. The leaves change from green to red to yellow and sometimes brown before it is time to fall. 

​To be considered a millennial you would have to be born between the early 1980’s until the early 2000’s. By definition you would be narcissistic, always have a need to be treated special, over confident, extremely pressured, sheltered and conventional. Most of the cases studies for Generation X and Y were biased to only affluent white suburban children and when people of color (i.e. black, latino or asian) were asked how these traits pertained to them the response was they couldn't relate.