I recently completed my Mental Health First Aid Course and became an Accredited Mental Health First Aider.
This is something I’ve wanted to do for years.
I’ve always been the person people turn to.
Family. Friends. Colleagues.
I’m not sure if it’s because I’m naturally curious, because I’m a Cancerian, or just a vibe I give off — but people tend to tell me their deepest, darkest things.
And I’ve often wondered…
Am I handling these conversations well?
Do they feel heard?
Do they feel safe?
After completing the modules and then the six-hour accreditation session, I walked away quietly proud.
For the most part, instinct had served me well.
But there were also moments where I realised — I didn’t quite know what to do.
And now I do.
The course isn’t about diagnosing.
I’m not qualified for that.
It’s about conversation.
It’s about recognising the signs.
It’s about triage.
It’s about holding time and space for someone who needs to talk.
It’s about knowing when to lean in, and when to gently guide someone toward professional support.
And as a leader, that matters deeply to me.
Every industry carries stress. Targets. Pressure. Long hours. Expectations.
But in real estate, in my 26 years, I’ve learned something unique.
You’re not just dealing with transactions.
You’re walking into divorces.
Into deaths.
Into financial strain.
Into family breakdowns.
Into big, life-changing decisions.
You are often present at some of the most emotional chapters of someone’s life.
And navigating that can be heavy.
There are days where you carry your client’s stress with you.
Days where you absorb emotion because the outcome matters deeply to them.
Days where you go home mentally exhausted, not from the deal, but from the human weight of it.
Sometimes taking on the emotion is part of the job.
But if we’re constantly absorbing and never checking in on our own mental fitness, that’s not sustainable.
Listening to the stories of other participants in the course gave me a deeper appreciation for how fortunate I’ve been with my own mental fitness. That’s not something to take for granted.
It’s something to work on.
Something to be aware of.
Something to protect.
One statistic I heard recently stopped me in my tracks, one of the top uses of AI right now is therapy and counselling.
That says something.
People are searching for somewhere to talk.
Somewhere to feel heard.
Somewhere safe.
As leaders, we don’t replace professionals.
But we can create workplaces where it’s okay to say “I’m not coping.”
Where pressure is acknowledged instead of glorified.
Where resilience doesn’t mean silence.
For me, this course wasn’t about adding a credential.
It was about leading humans better.
Humans with emotions.
Humans under pressure.
Humans carrying things we may never fully see.
And if we can hold space a little more skilfully, at work, at home, in our communities, that feels like work worth doing.
