By Christina Winnegar & Allison Cho
Reese Lambe’s mission to reshape the conversation around mental health is rooted in personal experiences, empathy, and a deep desire for real change. As the founder of The Busy Brain Podcast, she has created a space open to honest discussions about mental health and the importance of prioritizing it instead of simply encouraging. From her early experiences working with high-needs children to navigating the pressures of competitive hockey, Reese has firsthand experience of how mental health impacts every aspect of life, especially in overlooked environments. Her journey is more than just awareness; it’s about redefining strength, breaking stigmas, and fostering a culture where vulnerability is seen as a powerful tool for growth.

You founded “The Busy Brain Podcast,” hoping to normalize conversations about mental health and build a community where people feel comfortable talking about it. How has hosting “The Busy Brain Podcast” changed your own perspective on mental health, and what’s one memorable moment or story from a guest or listener that reaffirmed your mission?
In the short time that I’ve been consistently creating content—whether through my podcast or social platforms—I’ve had the opportunity to connect with so many incredible individuals. Hosting The Busy Brain Podcast has completely shifted my perspective on mental health. It’s one thing to know that people struggle, but it’s another to hear firsthand how universal those struggles really are. The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that so many of us are experiencing the same emotions, challenges, and intrusive thoughts—but for so long, no one was talking about them.
There isn’t just one story that stands out above the rest, because, truthfully, I’m overwhelmed by the support from both friends and strangers who relate to the conversations I have. I’ve had guests open up in ways they never expected, and I’ve had listeners reach out saying an episode made them feel understood for the first time. That’s exactly why I started this—to create a space where people feel safe enough to be honest about what they’re going through. Seeing that impact in real time has only reaffirmed my mission to keep these conversations going.
You’ve emphasized the importance of recognizing individualized mental health needs, rather than adopting a 'one-size-fits-all' approach. By referencing ‘The Orchid and The Dandelion’, you’ve illustrated how biological differences influence our emotional and behavioral responses. With your experience working with children with high needs, how do you envision incorporating this understanding into the broader conversation around mental health in spaces where it’s not currently normalized?
Emphasizing individuality has completely shaped how I approach mental health conversations. My short time working in group care exposed me to the profound impact that a deeper understanding of oneself can have on personal growth. I saw firsthand how some 13-year-old clients, equipped with the right support plans, had greater emotional intelligence than some adults. That experience reinforced my belief that mental health isn’t just about coping—it’s about understanding the ‘why’ behind our emotions and behaviors.
Learning about individualized mental health needs early on gave me the language and framework to process my own experiences. It taught me that our biological, physiological, and emotional differences shape how we react to life’s challenges, and recognizing that can be transformative. In spaces where mental health isn’t normalized, I see an opportunity to shift perspectives. If we create a culture of understanding, patience, and openness. Rather than a ‘one-size-fits-all’ model, we can start to see mental health as just as unique as the people experiencing it. That’s how we make real change.

You mentioned resenting the “asking for attention” stigma around mental health. How do you think we can collectively change that narrative?
The stigma that talking about mental health is just “asking for attention” is one of the biggest barriers preventing people from reaching out for help. It’s frustrating because we don’t apply that same mindset to physical health—no one questions someone for seeking treatment for a broken bone, yet when it comes to mental struggles, there’s often this underlying judgment. That’s something we need to change.
I think the biggest way to shift this narrative is through education and conversation. The more we openly talk about mental health—whether it’s athletes, influencers, or everyday people—the more we normalize it. We need to stop framing vulnerability as attention-seeking and instead recognize it as strength. Being open about struggles isn’t about looking for pity; it’s about finding support, healing, and showing others that they’re not alone.
As individuals, we can also be more mindful of how we respond when someone shares their struggles. Instead of dismissing them or assuming they’re exaggerating, we should listen, validate, and support them. When people feel heard rather than judged, they’re more likely to continue the conversation, which ultimately helps break down the stigma.
Changing this narrative won’t happen overnight, but every honest conversation, every moment of empathy, and every person who speaks up helps move us in the right direction. The goal isn’t just to raise awareness—it’s to create a culture where no one feels ashamed to ask for help.
Mental health struggles can often feel isolating, even when we have support from those around us. Based on your own experience, what steps can we take to better support our communities and foster more open conversations about mental health with our loved ones?
As someone who has struggled to open up about my mental health, even to those closest to me, I know how isolating it can feel—even when you're surrounded by support. At times, I didn’t fully understand what I was going through, and for someone who loves to have all the answers, that was frustrating. That’s why learning more about mental health became so important to me—it gave me a sense of understanding and helped me realize I wasn’t alone.
One of the most valuable things I’ve learned is the importance of communication. It’s not always easy to explain what I’m feeling in the moment. To truly support our communities and foster open conversations about mental health, we need to create spaces where people feel safe expressing their struggles without fear of judgment. That starts with listening—really listening. Instead of trying to fix someone’s feelings or minimize their experience, just let them be heard.
Remind the people in your life that they don’t have to go through it alone. The more we have these conversations, the more we normalize them, and the easier it becomes for people to ask for help when they need it.

The emphasis you placed on the importance of support around us, while also recognizing that only we, as individuals, can truly lift ourselves from rock bottom, was incredibly impactful. Having lived through this lesson yourself, how did your personal experience shape this mindset for you?
From the outside, my life looked great. I had two loving parents, an older brother, a younger sister, and a chaotic, fun-filled childhood. I played competitive hockey, and my teammates were easily one of my favorite parts of the sport. By all accounts, I should have been your average middle school girl. But the summer before seventh grade, I experienced trauma that I tried so desperately to forget.
No matter how much support I had around me—friends, family, a full life—there were moments when it felt like none of it mattered. But that’s the thing about mental illness. It distorts reality, taints the way you see yourself, others, and can make you feel completely alone, even in a room full of people who love you.
At 13, I felt hopeless—more than I ever had in my life. Looking back, I realize it wasn’t just the struggles themselves that made me feel that way. It was not knowing that I had any power over them. I didn’t understand that what I was feeling was normal, that it was okay, and most importantly, that I wasn’t broken. That realization shaped everything for me. It taught me that no matter what I have in my life, I can never outrun my own mind. I have to be the one to pick myself up. Support systems are crucial, but the real work starts within.
You played competitive hockey from a young age through high school, including during COVID. How did that experience shape your perspective on mental health, work ethic, and approach to challenges?
Playing competitive hockey from a young age through high school taught me so much about discipline, teamwork, and resilience—both physically and mentally. The sport became a huge part of my identity, and I loved the structure it provided. But as much as I loved hockey, there were also challenges that shaped my perspective on mental health in ways I didn’t expect.
COVID, in particular, changed everything. The sudden loss of routine, connection, and competition was a shock. It made me realize just how much of my mental well-being was tied to the sport—not just the games, but the team environment, the consistency, and the purpose it gave me. Without it, I struggled, like so many athletes did. But that experience also forced me to confront my mental health head-on. It showed me that I couldn’t rely on external factors to define my self-worth or stability.
Hockey also taught me that work ethic isn’t just about pushing through challenges—it’s about learning how to adapt. Whether it was balancing school, training, or personal struggles, I had to develop the discipline to keep going even when things felt overwhelming. That mindset has carried into everything I do now, from content creation to my studies to navigating life’s uncertainties. It reinforced that setbacks aren’t failures; they’re opportunities to build resilience.
Ultimately, my experience in competitive sports taught me that mental toughness isn’t about ignoring emotions—it’s about understanding them, learning from them, and finding ways to keep moving forward.

The sports industry and many others have an issue of hiding behind a face and only highlighting the “fakeness” on social media. What inspired you to pull back the curtain and reveal the real side of yourself, the sports industry, and social media?
As athletes, we’re trained to push through adversity, stay focused, and perform at our best no matter what. But what often gets overlooked is the mental side of the game—the pressure, the self-doubt, and the emotional toll that comes with competing at a high level.
Playing competitive hockey, I saw firsthand how much athletes keep to themselves. The locker room can be a place of camaraderie, but it can also be a place where struggles go unnoticed because everyone is expected to "tough it out." I’ve been in that position myself—surrounded by teammates yet feeling completely alone. That experience shaped my vision for creating open and honest conversations about mental health, both in sports and in everyday life.
Social media plays a huge role in this, too. We see the highlights—the game-winning moments, the celebrations, the perfectly curated training videos—but we rarely see the behind-the-scenes struggles. The long hours, the setbacks, the pressure to perform, and the mental exhaustion are just as real as the victories. That’s why I’ve made it a priority to pull back the curtain and share both sides of the story.
My goal isn’t to tear down the idea of mental toughness—it’s to expand what it means. Being mentally strong isn’t about ignoring struggles; it’s about recognizing them, working through them, and knowing that asking for help is just as important as pushing yourself to improve. If we can start having these conversations more openly in sports, we can create an environment where athletes feel supported both on and off the ice.
“What if I opened my phone and my life wasn't the only one that sucked?" really resonated with me. How do you think social media’s growth has both helped and hurt the mental health of those struggling? And how do you stay vulnerable and true to yourself, sharing your authentic journey, when many creators only showcase their “highlight reels”?
Social media is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s given people an outlet to connect, feel seen, and realize they’re not alone. When I first started sharing my experiences, I saw firsthand how powerful it was for someone to open their phone and see a creator being real—showing the messy, unfiltered parts of life. It breaks down the illusion that everyone else has it all figured out.
But at the same time, social media can be incredibly damaging when it becomes a highlight reel of perfection. The constant comparison, unrealistic beauty standards, and curated lifestyles can make people feel like they’re falling behind. That’s why I’ve made it a priority to show up authentically. I don’t just share the wins—I talk about the struggles, the self-doubt, and the mental health challenges because I know someone out there needs to hear it.
Staying vulnerable online isn’t always easy, but I remind myself why I started. I want my platform to feel like a safe space, not another place that makes people feel like they’re not enough. The more we normalize real, unfiltered conversations, the more we shift the culture of social media from perfection to connection.

Your values align closely with Hazze’s mission of focusing on the individual in the sports industry, looking beyond jersey numbers and stats. How do you think athletes and other sports industry professionals can better recognize the importance of mental health, and what steps can the industry take to prioritize and normalize these conversations?
Athletes are often seen through the lens of their performance—stats, wins, losses, and physical ability. But behind every jersey number is a person, and their mental well-being plays just as big of a role in their success as their physical training does. The sports industry has made progress in acknowledging mental health, but there’s still work to be done in truly prioritizing it at every level.
The first step is recognizing that mental health isn’t separate from performance—it’s a core part of it. Just like athletes train their bodies to compete, they need to train their minds to handle pressure, setbacks, and the emotional demands of their sport. Coaches, organizations, and even fans can help shift this perspective by encouraging open conversations and treating mental health with the same seriousness as physical injuries. Instead of waiting until an athlete is struggling, teams should integrate mental wellness practices into their culture from the start.
Beyond the athletes, sports industry professionals—coaches, media, trainers—also play a huge role in changing the narrative. The language we use matters. Avoiding phrases like “mentally weak” or dismissing emotional struggles as just part of the game can help create an environment where athletes feel comfortable speaking up. When industry leaders set the tone for prioritizing mental health, it trickles down to the athletes and changes the culture as a whole.
At the end of the day, mental toughness isn’t just about pushing through—it’s about knowing when to ask for help, learning how to manage pressure, and understanding that true strength comes from balance. If we want to see athletes succeed at their highest level, we need to take care of the whole person, not just their performance.
It was a true pleasure speaking with someone as insightful as you. The impact you're having in opening up conversations about our internal struggles will only continue to grow over time. Do you have a final message for someone who is struggling, or for anyone who knows someone facing challenges, particularly within the athletic world, where there is often stigma around seeking support?
First, if you’re struggling, I want you to know that you are not alone. No matter how isolating it may feel, there are people who understand, who care, and who want to support you. Struggling with your mental health doesn’t make you weak—it makes you human. And being an athlete doesn’t mean you have to push through everything on your own. Strength isn’t just about endurance or performance; it’s about knowing when to ask for help and recognizing that your mental well-being matters just as much as your physical health.
For anyone who knows someone facing challenges, the best thing you can do is show up for them. Listen without judgment, remind them that they don’t have to go through it alone, and be patient. Sometimes, support isn’t about having the perfect words—it’s about making sure they know you’re there.
In the athletic world, the stigma around seeking support still exists, but change starts with conversations like these. The more we normalize mental health, the easier it becomes for athletes to speak up and prioritize their well-being. No game, no championship, no external success is worth sacrificing yourself. You are more than your sport, more than your performance, and you deserve to take care of yourself—not just as an athlete, but as a person.

Reese’s mission with The Busy Brain Podcast has always been to use her voice to share her personal experiences and break the stigma surrounding mental health, especially in areas that often go unspoken. Through her platform, she strives to raise awareness and offer practical advice drawn from firsthand experience, guiding us on how to better support our loved ones, friends, and figures we look up to.
Thank you so much for sharing your story Reese! It was a pleasure speaking with you. If you’re interested in hearing more about Reese’s story, The Busy Brain Podcast can be found on Youtube and Spotify.
Disclaimer:The thoughts, experiences, and opinions shared in this article are solely those of Reese Lambe and are based on her personal journey. They do not necessarily reflect the views of any organizations, sponsors, or institutions that Reese may be associated with.
To ensure accuracy and maintain context, Reese Lambe reviewed this article before publication. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this material is strictly prohibited. For any inquiries or concerns regarding this article, please contact info@hazzemedia.com.
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