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  • Writer: Linda Liu | Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer
    Linda Liu | Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer
  • Jul 2
Not for Display: The Quiet Revolution of Women Reclaiming Themselves

When I was an undergraduate, I spent a summer interning at a public school in a small Chinese city where my relatives work. I noticed a disturbing trend: the quietest, most reserved girls were often assigned to sit next to the most disruptive boys—sometimes even known bullies. Confused, I asked a teacher why this was the case. "We've always done it this way," she replied. "It helps keep the class in order." I pushed further—why not pair those boys with calm boys instead? She paused. Then repeated, "We've always done it this way."


When I asked how they compensated these girls for bearing that emotional burden, the teacher said, "We praise them for being so mature."


But I wanted to scream: since when did being silent become a girl's job? And since when did "being mature" mean enduring more?



Early Conditioning


Girls around the world are taught—through media, school, family, and culture—to see themselves not through their own eyes, but through others’. In East Asian contexts especially, girls learn early that being "obedient," "quiet," "pretty but not provocative" is what earns approval. They're encouraged to be passive, to endure discomfort, and to regulate their behavior for the sake of others. Meanwhile, boys are often praised for being bold, disruptive, and ambitious. Male curiosity is framed as exploration; female curiosity, as a threat.


Popular media reinforces these roles. Early Disney films taught girls that passivity leads to reward—Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella are all "saved" by male heroes. Female protagonists rarely solve their own problems; instead, they are rewarded for their beauty, compliance, and suffering. In contrast, male heroes undergo growth arcs based on courage, agency, and self-realization.


The problem runs deeper in contemporary cinema. In The Flowers of War, the real-life bravery of Minnie Vautrin—a U.S. female missionary who protected thousands of Chinese women during the Nanjing Massacre—is rewritten into a narrative centered around a white male priest who becomes the savior. In Heroes in Harm's Way, a real story about an epileptic boy who accidentally removed a nurse's mask during pandemics is reimagined with a mischievous little girl as the culprit, subtly shifting blame onto a female body. Meanwhile, Memoirs of a Geisha, Scent of a Woman, and Malèna transform women into objects of erotic mystery—loved not for who they are, but for how they make men feel.


Even sports entertainment isn't immune: Many professional female cheerleaders would love to express strength, athleticism, and artistry—but in leagues like the NBA or NFL, systemic expectations often confine them to narrowly defined roles that prioritize sex appeal over personal expression. WNBA games, however, don’t include male cheerleaders in equivalent sexy outfits—because the system was never designed to serve the female gaze.


As Fredrickson and Roberts (1997) explain in Objectification Theory, girls internalize these cues early, learning to see themselves as objects to be evaluated. Naomi Wolf (1991) calls this the "beauty myth"—a system designed to keep women consumed by their appearance rather than their power.



Internalization & Mental Health Impact


In many East Asian cultures, girls are subjected to early and rigid appearance-based conditioning. Beauty is narrow—fair skin, slender limbs, soft voice, modest dress. A girl must be good before she is loud, small before she is heard. If she excels academically, she hears, "Boys are smarter in the long run." If she rebels, she hears, "Girls shouldn't act like that."


In many Western cultures, girls experience a different but equally harmful pressure: early sexualization. They are encouraged to be sexy but not slutty, confident but not loud, desirable but always in control of their desirability. This creates an exhausting double bind. As Gill (2007) notes, this postfeminist sensibility rebrands self-objectification as empowerment, while Tolman (2002) shows how early sexualization leads to chronic self-surveillance and boundary confusion.


The result comes to low self-esteem, body shame, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, and an overwhelming sense of never being enough.


Healing & Reclaiming Agency


But healing is happening. More and more women are seeking therapy—not because they are broken, but because they want to reconnect with the parts of themselves that were silenced. They're learning to reparent their inner child, to question the rules they were taught, and to define their own worth.


They're exploring body neutrality—the idea that a body doesn't have to be beautiful to be valuable. For example, try to tell yourself: my body is healthy, it can help me shine in the workplace and enjoy life, it does not need to meet everyone’s expectations.  That a body is worthy because it houses life, not because it earns likes.


Today, women are building communities with other women—places where they can talk honestly about shame, fear, and joy. Where being heard is not a privilege, but a practice. This piece is not written about women, but with them. We are not objects to be dissected, improved, or pitied. We are participants in a quiet revolution—reclaiming our right to take up space, to feel safe in our skin, to matter beyond how we look.


Women are not for display, and we were never meant to be. The world may teach us to shrink, but we are learning to expand.


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



References:

Fredrickson, B. L., & Roberts, T.-A. (1997). Objectification theory: Toward understanding women’s lived experiences and mental health risks. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 21(2), 173–206. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1471-6402.1997.tb00108.x


Gill, R. (2007). Gender and the media. Polity Press.


Tolman, D. L. (2002). Dilemmas of desire: Teenage girls talk about sexuality. Harvard University Press.


Wolf, N. (1991). The beauty myth: How images of beauty are used against women. Harper Perennial.


American Psychological Association, Task Force on the Sexualization of Girls. (2007). Report of the APA Task Force on the Sexualization of Girls. https://www.apa.org/pi/women/programs/girls/report-full.pdf


Carlie Malott

Linda Liu

Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer of Moody Melon Magazine

I am a graduate student at the University of Minnesota, passionate about fostering authentic human connection and emotional well-being in professional and personal spaces. I am a certified Mental Health First Aider by the National Council for Mental Wellbeing. I write to honor vulnerability, resilience, and hope.

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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • May 23

Sensory tools that help kids feel safe can create calm in moments of overwhelm, offering comfort through touch, sound, smell, and movement. When used with care, they can turn scary feelings into manageable ones, giving children the power to understand and regulate their emotions.

Feel It to Heal It: 4 Sensory Tools to Help Kids Feel Safe Inside

When kids go through scary or hard things, their brains and bodies can feel like they’re always on high alert—even when nothing bad is happening. Loud noises, big feelings, or sudden changes might make them want to run, hide, or explode. That’s not bad behavior—it’s the body trying to protect itself.


The good news? There are ways to help kids feel safer, calmer, and more in control. These simple sensory tools don’t just make kids “behave”—they help them heal.



Here are four kid-friendly strategies that use the five senses to build comfort, calm, and confidence:


1. Peel the Anger Onion


Anger is like an onion—it has layers. When kids feel mad, they might also be feeling hurt, scared, or left out underneath. Drawing or imagining an “anger onion” helps them explore what’s hiding inside their big feelings.


Try this: Draw an onion with layers labeled: "mad," "frustrated," "sad," "scared," "lonely," etc. When a child is upset, sit together and gently ask: What’s under your mad today? Let them color or point to how they feel. This helps them name their emotions—and naming them is the first step to calming them.


2. Make a Worry Box


Kids with trauma often hold a lot of worries inside. A Worry Box is a safe place where they can “put away” those fears for a little while. It teaches them that worries don’t have to stay stuck in their heads.


Try this: Let the child decorate a small box or jar. When a worry pops up, they can write it down (or draw it) and put it inside. You might say: We can visit those worries later, but for now, they’re safe in the box. Over time, this gives kids power over their thoughts—and shows them they don’t have to carry everything alone.


3. Collect a Calming or Bored Bag


Some kids need extra comfort when they’re bored, waiting, or feeling “too much.” A calming bag filled with sensory tools can help them settle, fidget safely, or just feel okay when things around them don’t.


Try this: Use a lunchbox or pencil case and fill it with cozy or fun items: a soft fabric scrap, a squishy toy, a fidget spinner, noise-canceling headphones, a feather, a scented sticker, or a mini picture book. Invite them to use it whenever their body feels buzzy, bored, or blah.


4. Belly Breathing: Your Superpower Tool


Belly breathing is like a superhero move for your nervous system. It helps kids feel calmer from the inside out—especially when they’ve learned the world isn’t always safe.


Try this: Have the child lie down with a stuffed animal on their belly. As they breathe in slowly through their nose, the stuffed animal rises. As they breathe out through their mouth, it falls. You can say, Let’s help your teddy go on a little ride. Just one minute of this can help slow their heart rate and make their brain feel safer.


These sensory tools help kids feel like they matter—and that their feelings make sense. For children with trauma, they’re not just calming tricks—they’re invitations to feel safe, seen, and supported.



Now ask them (or yourself):


If your feelings could talk, what would they ask you to do to help them feel safe today?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • May 14

Supporting a child with PTSD means showing up with patience, consistency, and a willingness to listen, even when their behavior is hard to understand. Safety and trust are more powerful than any single intervention—healing begins with feeling truly seen.

Tiny Hearts, Big Shadows: Supporting a Child with PTSD Starts at Home

When we think of trauma, we often imagine battlefields or natural disasters. But for many children, trauma takes the form of what happens behind closed doors: the loss of a parent, emotional neglect, witnessing domestic violence, or even ongoing instability in their environment. Childhood PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) is a silent weight that too many young hearts carry—and it rarely looks the way we expect.


What PTSD Looks Like in Children


Unlike adults, children with PTSD may not verbalize their distress. Instead, they may become irritable, aggressive, withdrawn, or overly anxious. They may regress developmentally, struggle with sleep, experience frequent nightmares, or display physical symptoms like stomachaches or headaches. Some children act out the trauma in play or drawings; others go numb.


It’s easy to misinterpret these behaviors as “bad,” “attention-seeking,” or “defiant,” especially if we don't know what’s beneath the surface. But these are not acts of rebellion—they're signals of a child trying to make sense of a world that no longer feels safe.


What Happens When the Trauma Is in the Family?


This is one of the most painful truths: sometimes, the very people who are supposed to keep a child safe are the ones who’ve caused harm.


When the trauma stems from within the family—whether it’s abuse, neglect, addiction, or witnessing violence between caregivers—it adds a complex layer of betrayal and confusion for the child. Their primary attachment figures, the ones they rely on for safety, have also been the source of fear or hurt.



In these situations, healing requires more than individual therapy. It may mean:


  • Separating from harmful environments. Sometimes safety can only begin when distance is created—physically, emotionally, or both.


  • Establishing alternative sources of security. A grandparent, aunt, foster parent, or therapist may become the consistent and safe adult the child needs.


  • Family therapy (when appropriate). In cases where the harmful caregiver is doing their own healing work, structured therapeutic reparation may be possible.


  • Holding accountability with compassion. Families can break cycles—but only when the harm is acknowledged, not minimized or denied.


It’s important to understand that a child’s healing journey does not require the restoration of all relationships. Safety must come first. Trust must be earned, not expected.


Family: The First Line of Healing—Or Hurt


When the family can be a safe space, it becomes the most powerful tool in a child’s healing. Even when trauma is part of the family history, transformation is possible. Survivors can become cycle-breakers. What matters is not perfection, but presence, consistency, and a willingness to learn.


Here’s how families can support a child coping with PTSD:


  • Stay Consistent. Routines build safety. Predictable daily patterns—like meals, bedtime, and school drop-off—send the message: “You can count on me.”


  • Validate Feelings. Avoid minimizing their emotions. Instead of “You’re fine,” try “That sounds really scary. I’m here now.”


  • Model Regulation. Children mirror adults. Your ability to remain calm during their outbursts teaches them how to self-regulate.


  • Educate Yourself. Learn the signs of trauma and how it manifests. The more you understand the “why,” the more empathy you’ll have for the “what.”


  • Avoid Retraumatization. Loud voices, physical punishment, or unexpected separation can retraumatize a child. Safety isn’t just physical—it’s emotional, too.


  • Seek Professional Support. Trauma-informed therapy, such as TF-CBT (Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), can be a game-changer. But it works best when the family is involved and aligned.


Healing is Not Linear—But It’s Possible


PTSD doesn’t mean a child is broken. It means their nervous system is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do in the face of danger: protect. But when that system gets stuck in survival mode, healing requires patience, compassion, and long-term support.



The Bottom Line


No child should have to heal alone. Family doesn’t need to be perfect—just present, informed, and willing. And when family has been part of the trauma, the greatest gift we can give is not just our love, but our accountability and willingness to change.


Eye-opening question to end: What if the greatest therapy a child ever receives isn’t from a clinic—but from the way their family chooses to show up, break cycles, and become the safe space they never had?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



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