The gap between the face they show the world and the internal struggle is widening
In the consulting rooms of Ludhiana, a quiet crisis is unfolding beneath the polished surfaces of social media profiles and functional daily routines. Young people — teenagers and adults in their twenties and thirties — are carrying invisible burdens of anxiety, depression, and relational trauma while performing wellness for the world around them. Mental health professionals are watching a generation caught between the freedom they were promised and the contradictions they were handed, struggling in silence until the weight becomes impossible to bear. The path forward, experts suggest, lies not in fixing the young but in dismantling the impossible expectations that surround them.
- Behind functional appearances and curated social media feeds, a growing number of young people in Ludhiana are privately battling anxiety, depression, and social withdrawal severe enough to require professional care.
- Social media has transformed how relationships begin — but when filtered, idealized versions of two people collide with the demands of real life, the fracture can leave lasting psychological damage.
- A 31-year-old woman, twice wounded by incompatible relationships, has withdrawn from the prospect of partnership entirely, leaving her parents to grieve a future they had imagined for her — and a counselor now treating the whole family.
- The crisis stays hidden because young people have learned to perform normalcy, meaning parents rarely recognize the depth of their child's distress until intervention can no longer be delayed.
- Doctors stress that therapy and medication can substantially improve outcomes — but only if the silence is broken early enough for help to arrive before the damage deepens.
Walk into a psychiatrist's office in Ludhiana and the waiting room tells a story the outside world rarely sees. Teenagers and young adults arrive looking functional — managing work, keeping up appearances online — but behind the consulting room door, a different reality surfaces: anxiety, depression, withdrawal, and in some cases, violent impulses. The gap between the face they show the world and the struggle they carry inside is growing, and mental health professionals are growing with it in concern.
Dr. Ravinder Kala of Mind Plus has watched the nature of young people's distress evolve. Beyond the familiar pressures of academics and family expectation, a newer tension has emerged: a generation rethinking adulthood itself. Many are rejecting early marriage in favor of financial independence and personal freedom — a shift that sounds like progress but carries its own complications. Relationships now often begin on social media, where everyone presents a curated best self. When those filtered versions of two people attempt to share a real life together, the collision can be devastating. Breakups follow. And in their wake: anxiety, depression, and sometimes a complete loss of faith in partnership.
Psychologist Ravneet Kaur recently counseled a 31-year-old woman scarred by two failed relationships, now so guarded that she refuses every proposal her parents bring her. She has chosen career and financial security over vulnerability. Her parents, caught between empathy and social pressure, worry about time and judgment. Kaur found herself counseling not just the woman, but her family — helping them understand that pressure, however well-intentioned, only deepens the wound.
What troubles experts most is how effectively young people have learned to hide their distress. They show up. They post. They don't speak. Parents often don't realize a crisis exists until it has already become severe. Dr. Kala's counsel to parents is quietly radical: offer genuine presence, not structured achievement. And release the script — the one that insists on marriage by a certain age, on a particular shape of life. The young people filling these waiting rooms are not broken. They are responding to an impossible set of contradictions, and right now, it is their mental health that is absorbing the cost.
Walk into a psychiatrist's office in Ludhiana these days and you'll find the waiting room filling with young people and their parents. On the surface, many of these teenagers and adults in their twenties and thirties appear fine—they're managing school or work, they're functional, they're posting on social media. But behind closed doors, in the consulting room, a different picture emerges. Anxiety. Depression. Social withdrawal. In some cases, violent impulses. The gap between the face they show the world and the internal struggle is widening, and mental health professionals are watching it happen with growing concern.
Dr. Ravinder Kala, who directs Mind Plus, has noticed a shift in what brings young people through her door. They're not just dealing with the pressures their parents faced—academic stress, family conflict, the weight of tradition. There's something newer layered on top: a fundamental rethinking of what adulthood should look like. A decade ago, early marriage was the default trajectory. Now, many young people are rejecting that path entirely. They want financial independence first. They want freedom to choose. They want to build something of their own before committing to someone else. On its surface, this sounds like progress. But the reality is messier.
The problem, according to Kala, is that relationships themselves have become a minefield. Young people meet through social media, where everyone curates a highlight reel—the best photos, the best moments, the version of themselves they want to project. When two people built on these filtered versions of each other try to actually live together, to share a household, to navigate real responsibilities and compromise, the collision can be brutal. A boy and a girl both want independence. Both want to be the primary earner, or both want flexibility, or both have different visions of what a partnership means. The relationship fractures. The breakup follows. And then comes the aftermath: anxiety, depression, sometimes a complete loss of faith in the possibility of partnership.
Psychologist Ravneet Kaur recently worked with a 31-year-old woman who had experienced two failed relationships due to fundamental incompatibility with her partners. The woman is now so scarred by these experiences that she has withdrawn from the marriage market entirely. Her parents bring her proposals—good matches, respectable families—but she refuses. She wants to focus on her career, on building financial security, on never being in a position where she has to depend on someone who might leave. Her parents, meanwhile, are caught between supporting their daughter and feeling the pressure of society's clock. They worry she'll never marry. They worry about what people will say. So now Kaur is counseling not just the woman, but her parents too, trying to help them understand that forcing the issue will only deepen the wound.
What strikes the experts most is how invisible this struggle remains. Young people have learned to perform wellness. They show up to work. They maintain their social media presence. They don't talk about what's happening inside. Parents often don't realize their child is in crisis until the situation has become severe enough to require professional intervention. By then, therapy and medication become necessary—and both can help substantially, the doctors emphasize, if started early enough. But early intervention requires visibility, and visibility requires breaking the silence.
Dr. Kala's advice to parents is straightforward but countercultural: spend real time with your children. Not supervised time, not time structured around achievement or expectation, but genuine presence. And crucially, let go of the narrative that there's one right way to live. The pressure parents unconsciously place on their children—to marry by a certain age, to want certain things, to follow a predetermined script—is itself a source of the anxiety and depression showing up in clinics. The young people sitting in waiting rooms aren't broken. They're responding rationally to an impossible set of contradictions: be independent but also be married. Be yourself but also fit in. Be happy but also meet everyone else's expectations. Something has to give. Right now, it's their mental health.
Citas Notables
Youngsters today prioritise freedom and financial independence, and when they meet through social media showing only a rosy picture, clashes occur when confronting household realities, leading to anxiety and depression requiring therapy.— Dr. Ravinder Kala, director of Mind Plus
A woman who experienced two breakups due to incompatibility is now so fearful she refuses to marry, wanting instead to focus on work and financial security, while her parents worry about societal pressure.— Psychologist Ravneet Kaur
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why do you think young people are hiding these struggles so effectively? What makes the mask so convincing?
Because the mask is rewarded. Social media teaches you early that your real self—messy, uncertain, struggling—isn't marketable. So you learn to perform. And once you're performing for an audience, it becomes harder to stop, even in private.
But parents should notice, shouldn't they? A parent should see their child is depressed.
You'd think so. But depression doesn't always look like sadness. Sometimes it looks like someone who's functioning perfectly—going to work, keeping up appearances. The person themselves might not even name it as depression. They just feel numb, or stuck, or like something's wrong but they can't articulate it.
The social media relationships seem to be a particular trigger. Why are those different from how young people used to meet?
Because the filter is built in from the start. Your parents might have met someone through a mutual friend and learned who they actually were over time. Now you're meeting someone who has already decided what version of themselves to show you. When reality doesn't match the image, the disappointment is sharper.
And the parents—they're part of the problem, it sounds like.
Not intentionally. But yes. They're still operating from a script that says marriage by thirty, financial security through a partner, that kind of thing. Their children are writing a different script. The collision between those two stories is where a lot of the anxiety lives.
So what actually helps? Just therapy?
Therapy helps, medication helps. But what really helps is permission. Permission to want something different. Permission to fail at a relationship and not feel like you've failed at life. Permission to prioritize yourself without guilt.