Author: Stamena Kozić, a high school student from Serbia In many areas of life, we unconsciously mirror the people we admire- a phenomenon psychologists often refer to as the Chameleon Effect. Over time, this imitation can be harmless, even flattering, and often helps us connect, or feel understood. But in relationships, the rules are quite different. When it happens too quickly, before you truly know each other, admiration can cross a line. What starts as flattery can almost imperceptibly turn into something else entirely, an erasure. Illustration photo. Retrieved from Pexels (www.pexels.com) Take, for example, someone you've just started dating- a new person entering your life. Weeks in, they begin changing themselves to mirror you, adopting your style, your tastes, even life decisions of great importance they once resisted or opposed. They may switch their hair color, modify their wardrobe, or suddenly embrace hobbies and opinions they previously dismissed. At first, it might seem flattering, like they're captivated by you, eager to connect, to be close. But when admiration moves faster than the relationship itself, the unease sets in. There's something disorienting about watching someone erase their own preferences and bend their identity around yours- especially when the choices they make now reflect you, and not the person you thought you were falling for. Admiration starts morphing into a warning sign, signaling that something deeper, more concerning, is unfolding. Many philosophers throughout history have emphasized the importance of individuality. Socrates once encouraged people to think for themselves rather than simply follow the crowd. In the context of relationships this advice becomes more relevant. To maintain connection without losing oneself, we must define our desires and resist the pull to mirror someone else blindly. And yet, the phenomenon persists. French anthropologist Rene Girard, famous for his work on desire and imitation, developed what he called the theory of mimetic desire: the idea that we often want people not for who they truly are, but because someone else desires them. Desire is contagious, and admiration can be less about the person and more about the reflection they inspire in us. In relationships, this can appear as someone bending themselves- intensely and unexpectedly- to match your preferences and life choices before the connection has had a chance to form naturally. So, why does this happen? Quite often, it stems from insecurity, fear of rejection, or even borderline tendencies, where validation from others feels essential to one's sense of self. Jealousy and a desire to keep up with perceived standards or to secure affection can accelerate this imitation, making admiration feel too urgent and overwhelming. In these cases, the person isn't connecting with you, instead they're seeking approval, safety, or identity in your reflection, erasing the boundaries between desire and obsession. The healthiest relationships don't demand transformation. They invite it, slowly, over time, with respect for boundaries and selfhood. True connection encourages curiosity, growth and exploration on both sides, rather than bending to fit someone's reflection. To navigate intimacy without losing yourself pay attention to subtle signs: Are boundaries respected, or quietly dissolved? Are choices made freely, or to please? Admiration feels uplifting, inspiring one to become their true self without fear or pressure. When desire becomes imitation, it's easy to mistake intensity for connection, but connection that truly matters doesn't erase identity. In the end, the most lasting connection, isn't the one that mirrors us perfectly, but the one that is built on contrast, the one that can fill the gaps without erasing individuality.

Author: Stamena Kozić, a high school student from Serbia In the Balkans, mental health is often recognized only when it reaches an extreme. As long as a person continues to function-attending school, going to work, fulfilling responsibilities-this is treated as proof of stability. Functioning becomes evidence that everything is "fine", even when it's not.  As a result, struggles such as anxiety, depression and burnout are rarely seen as legitimate unless they interfere with productivity. The ability to keep going is praised, while the cost of doing so remains invisible. Illustration photo. Retrieved from Pexels (www.pexels.com) However, data tells a different story. Research conducted in Serbia alone shows that approximately one-third of the population can be considered psychologically vulnerable. Around 15.6% of people report symptoms of depression, 7.2% experience symptoms of anxiety, and 1.6% are at high risk of suicide. These numbers exist alongside everyday functioning, challenging the idea that productivity equals well-being. Mental health in Balkan schools In the Balkans, seeing a psychologist is still not normalized within the school system and is often perceived as a last resort rather than a form of prevention or care. Students are typically referred to school psychologists only after being labeled as “problematic,” when their difficulties become visible through academic failure, behavioral issues, or a noticeable decline in productivity. These markers are treated as the primary indicators of distress, while emotional suffering does not necessarily disrupt performance and remains largely unaddressed. Well-performing students—those who maintain good grades, attend classes regularly, and meet institutional expectations—are rarely checked on or encouraged to seek support. This creates an environment in which psychological help is associated with dysfunction and punishment rather than well-being. As a result, schools unintentionally reinforce the idea that as long as a student continues to function, there is no need for help, even if that functioning comes at the cost of mental and emotional health. This mindset is especially dangerous because many mental health conditions do not immediately disrupt outward functioning. Disorders such as eating disorders often operate within this logic of "not being sick enough." Individuals may continue to perform well academically or socially, leading both themselves and others to believe there is no reason to seek help. This delay in recognition frequently allows the condition to worsen, increasing both psychological and physical risks. In extreme cases, the consequences of untreated mental illness can be fatal—underscoring the cost of a system that equates visible dysfunction with the legitimacy of suffering. Why Mental Health Remains a Taboo in the Balkans? Mental health continues to be a taboo in the Balkans largely because the region's recent history has been defined by survival rather than stability. Wars, political transitions, and prolonged economic insecurity have shaped societies in which endurance is valued more than emotional openness. In such environments, psychological distress was often viewed as luxury concern, something secondary to immediate survival. As a result suffering became normalized as an expected part of life, rather than recognized as a condition that deserves care and attention. Stigma surrounding professional mental health support further reinforces this mindset. Therapy and psychiatric care are frequently associated with severe illness or social failure, rather than prevention or self-understanding. As the aforementioned research shows, many people seek help only when their condition becomes unmanageable, if they seek it at all. This is compounded by structural barriers: mental health services across the region remain underfunded, unevenly distributed, and difficult to access, particularly for young people. Long waiting times, limited school-based support, and high costs in private care discourage early intervention. Over time, emotional restraint has been learned and passed down across generations. Parents and grandparents who endured hardship without psychological support often model silence as resilience. Phrases such as "others have it worse" or "you'll get over it" are commonly used, unintentionally minimizing emotional pain. Together, historical trauma, stigma, and systemic limitations have created a culture in which mental health struggles are only acknowledged when they become impossible to ignore- maintaining the same pattern of recognition through crisis rather than care. How Mental Health Is Approached in Other Countries? In many countries outside the Balkans, mental health is increasingly treated as an integral part of public conversation rather than a private issue. Discussions about anxiety, depression, and burnout are more visible in media, education, and policy, helping reduce sigma around seeking support. Asking for professional help is often framed as an act of responsibility and self-awareness, not weakness. Mental health education is frequently incorporated into school curricula, teaching students to recognize emotional distress early and encouraging them to seek help before problems escalate. Therapy is widely normalized, with school counselors and mental health professionals positioned as preventive resources rather than emergency responses. This emphasis on prevention- addressing mental health before it reaches a crisis point—stands in sharp contrast to systems that acknowledge psychological distress only after functioning begins to fall. How Can We Begin to Change This? Redefining strength is the first step: true resilience is not just endurance or silence, but the courage to acknowledge vulnerability and seek help when needed. Creating spaces for honest conversations—at home, in schools, and in public lifecan gradually break the stigma that has persisted for generations.