Importantly, this shift also changes how people talk about their own needs.
Participants described how engaging with “pop-psychology” content gave them the language to explain what they were feeling whether that was recognising unhealthy patterns, setting boundaries, or understanding emotional responses. This wasn’t about labelling themselves for the sake of it; it was about making sense of experiences that previously felt confusing or difficult to articulate.
And that had real-world consequences.
With that language came a sense of confidence and self-advocacy. One participant described being better able to advocate for themselves when speaking to their GP, suggesting that exposure to this content helped bridge the gap between internal experience and professional support.
This challenges a common assumption that social media replaces or undermines formal mental health care. Instead, the findings suggest something quite different: it can act as a stepping stone toward help-seeking, equipping people with the understanding and confidence they need to engage with professional support more effectively.
At the same time, people weren’t simply absorbing everything they saw. Participants were aware of the limitations of online content and described themselves as selective and critical in how they engaged. They questioned sources, compared perspectives, and chose to follow creators they perceived as credible, often favouring those with professional expertise.
This challenges the idea that users are passive or easily misled. Instead, they appear to be navigating a complex information landscape with thought, judgement, and personal awareness.
Of course, this doesn’t mean the experience is entirely positive. Participants also described feeling overwhelmed by the sheer volume of content and, at times, confused by conflicting advice. The constant stream of information often offering different interpretations of similar experiences could create uncertainty and fatigue.
But even here, the story is not one of helplessness. People described actively managing this tension by setting boundaries taking breaks, limiting engagement, and recognising that there is “only so much you can do for your mental health in one day.”
What emerges, then, is not a simple narrative of harm or benefit, but something far more complex. Social media is experienced as both supportive and overwhelming, empowering and uncertain. These elements don’t cancel each other out they coexist, shaping an experience that is dynamic, negotiated, and deeply personal.
This is where the broader conversation needs to shift.
Instead of asking whether social media is good or bad for mental health, we might ask a more useful question: what are people actually doing with it? Because when we look more closely, we see individuals engaging in acts of recognition, reflection, learning, and self-expression. We see people building the language to describe their experiences, challenging stigma, and, in some cases, taking meaningful steps toward seeking support.
By focusing only on the risks, we risk overlooking these quieter but important processes.
Social media is not a perfect space. It contains misinformation, contradictions, and pressures. But it is also, undeniably, part of everyday life. And within that everydayness, people are not simply being shaped by it they are actively shaping how it fits into their lives.
Perhaps the reality is not that social media is inherently harmful or helpful, but that it is a tool one that people are learning to navigate, interpret, and use in ways that reflect their own needs, experiences, and understanding.
And when we start to see it that way, the conversation becomes not just more balanced but more meaningful.