Healing Through Helping: My Journey to Founding M2Health

If you could give one piece of advice to readers, what would it be? 

“Your story, no matter how quiet or complicated, matters. And when you use that story to build something that lifts others, the healing you offer comes full circle. You find freedom not by forgetting your past, but by turning it into a future someone else can grow in.”

— Asha Patel

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In middle school, I lived in silence. I didn’t have the language to describe the ache I felt when I looked in the mirror or the constant calculations I made about food, clothing, and self-worth. I just knew I felt wrong in my body. Growing up in a community where mental health was rarely discussed, and in a school environment where conversations about body image were shallow at best, I internalized that silence. I became a perfectionist. I buried my anxiety in academics and music. I learned how to smile through the struggle.

What I didn’t learn was that what I was going through had a name — body dysmorphia, orthorexia, eating disorder behavior. And that I wasn’t the only one.

Years later, as I began to heal, I couldn’t stop thinking about how different things might’ve been if someone had said something earlier, if I’d been taught what disordered eating looks like, or had seen someone who looked like me share their story. That’s when I realized: if the curriculum didn’t exist, I would build it myself.

For my Girl Scout Gold Award, I designed a middle school program on eating disorder awareness. It was everything I wished I had at that age: animated videos with vibrant characters and music, interactive lessons that debunked myths, and real interviews with survivors and experts. I even recreated the middle school environment in my mind, how I would’ve best absorbed this information when I was 12,and used that as my guide for tone, pacing, and language. I taught myself video editing, scripting, voiceovers, and lighting techniques. I partnered with the National Eating Disorders Association and began conducting advocacy research to test the curriculum’s impact.

But not every school welcomed it. Many were hesitant, unsure if their students were “ready” for such a topic. So I gathered data, running a controlled study comparing students’ perceptions of eating disorders and body image before and after the curriculum. The results showed a statistically significant improvement in understanding, compassion, and knowledge. Armed with the numbers and the stories, I slowly started winning over decision-makers.

When Spectrum News LA featured my work during Mental Health Month, something clicked. The project wasn’t just a personal milestone anymore, it was a public movement. That’s when I co-founded M2Health (Middle Mental Health), a nonprofit dedicated to preventing eating disorders through early, inclusive, and emotionally authentic education.

But building a nonprofit was nothing like a school project. Suddenly, I wasn’t just a creator. I was a leader. I assembled a team of 29 high schoolers from across the country, students with lived experiences, passionate allies, and incredible diversity across age, culture, and background. Some had never spoken openly about their struggles. Others came from families or communities where mental health was considered taboo. I quickly realized that to lead this team, I had to do more than organize tasks, I had to build trust.

I created seven teams: outreach, curriculum, social media, fundraising, design, website, and workshops, and structured them so that students with different strengths and stories could collaborate. A survivor might work with a researcher to make our lessons credible and heartfelt. A cautious student might team up with a bold, creative to ensure sensitivity didn’t get lost in the visuals. I facilitated weekly team meetings, hosted one-on-one check-ins for quieter members, and organized wellness-focused socials to turn our group into a community.

And it worked. Together, we launched our curriculum in six schools across California and New Jersey, with nine more expressing active interest. We hosted a city-wide Body Positivity Fair, formed satellite teams in Florida, Arizona, and Colorado, and began developing new content focused on athlete mental health and school-related stress. 

But the most meaningful impact wasn’t in the metrics, it was in the moments. A teammate who once felt ashamed of their experience now leads our workshop team. A middle schooler wrote to tell me that our video helped her finally ask for help. And one day, a 12th grader I didn’t know came up to me and said, “I wish I had this when I was younger.”

That’s when I knew: I wasn’t just healing myself. I was helping others heal, too.

Today, I serve on the Young Leaders Council at the Eating Disorders Coalition, using my voice to shape national policy and ensure that prevention and education start early, in every community. I speak at city council meetings, collaborate with school officials, and stay grounded in the stories of the students we serve. And I carry with me a sense of purpose that was born from pain — but transformed by connection, action, and hope.