Matt Joseph Diaz

For a long time, passing privilege made me feel like I didn’t deserve to call myself latino.

Everyone messes up, so you can bank on future opportunities to apologize. When the time comes for owning up to your own mistakes, these tips will help ensure you make the most of making amends.

I promise you, people living with depression are acutely aware that things probably aren’t as bad as they could be.

This week, we're spotlighting mental health in honor of Mental Health Awareness Month. Tune in to today's #MondayMotivation as Matt discusses his own diagnosis, and how to be kind to yourself even when a new diagnosis feels scary and hard.

Taking the time to find clothes that I liked, to dye my hair, and get tattooed — for the first time I was building a place of my own.

When I lost that ability for a while, being too weak and swollen to really put the effort in, it felt like I’d lost a part of myself. It felt like I’d regressed, like I’d gotten to the finish line and was forced back into the race.

This is the trap we fall into when we discuss recovery, emotional development, mental health, or body image: believing there’s a destination.

This week Matt reminds us how amazing we are.

Though it's worth noting that my weight was beginning to become a health concern, I’d never considered my body a “problem” until I heard how doctors talked about it. In the same way a hurt child won’t start to cry until he sees the worry in his parent’s face, I never felt bad about my body until the first time I felt like I was being looked at with disgust. So whatever route you decide to take with the health of a child, make sure it’s treated as a growing opportunity and not a solution to a problem. Your children are not problems — they are the foundation upon which the adults of tomorrow will be built.

After spending a long time in nature, it stopped being intimidating. It started being calm. The quiet wasn't something I feared anymore. It was something I wanted to cherish.

First of all, befriending someone and becoming their confidant while secretly yearning to get in their pants isn’t just fucking creepy, it’s manipulative. The girls I “befriended” opened up to and trusted me because I was patient, sensitive, and seemed to have their best interests in mind.

My roommates [...] weren't aware that I live with bipolar disorder until a few weeks after I first moved in. In the month or so since, I’ve learned a lot about the way we approach our interpersonal relationships when living with mental illness, especially with those who are closest to us — both emotionally and literally.