I was at a wedding recently, surrounded by people who work in and around mental health — psychiatrists, researchers, academics. At one point I found myself chatting to a young woman I hadn’t met before and asked what she did.
“Oh… I’m just a nurse,” she said.
“Just a nurse?” I replied, genuinely taken aback. “What kind of nurse?”
“A mental health nurse.”
It stayed with me. Here was someone who is dedicating her career to the kind of work that holds services together — the work that sits closest to people’s distress — yet in a room full of other professionals, she saw herself as somehow lesser. Not because anyone had said so, but because the culture around her had quietly taught her to shrink.
Mental Health Nurses’ Day is a useful moment to pause, take stock, and remind ourselves of the extraordinary profession we belong to. Ours is a field with deep roots — a profession that has evolved from the earliest days of asylum care to become a highly skilled, evidence‑informed discipline in its own right. Generations of mental health nurses have shaped a unique clinical identity, grounded in compassion, expertise, and a profound understanding of the human experience.
Relational care is at the heart of our work - we are the clinicians who spend more time with patients than anyone else in mental health care, and that time is essential. The therapeutic relationship has always been our most powerful tool. It’s the basis on which trust is built, distress is understood, and recovery becomes possible. The unique mental health nurse-patient relationship allows us to deliver the breadth of psychosocial interventions that define our practice — from structured therapeutic approaches to the subtle, moment‑to‑moment skills that help people feel safe enough to engage. These skills should never be overlooked or undervalued – they are central to recovery.
But we also need to be honest about where we are now. Mental health nurses are facing immense pressures. Workforce shortages mean teams are stretched thin and many of us are being asked to wear too many hats, often stepping into roles that dilute our specialist contribution. In some cases, mental health nurses are being substituted altogether, as if our expertise is interchangeable. It’s hardly surprising, then, that these conditions fuel the narrative that we are somehow less essential than other clinicians.
Yet despite all this, I remain hopeful — because I can see the profession pushing back, reclaiming its voice, and insisting on the value of what we do. One sign of this is the renewed focus on strengthening the psychosocial foundations of our practice. The RCN’s Psychosocial Interventions Programme is part of that shift, offering a consistent, nationally available educational offer that supports mental health nurses to deepen their therapeutic work. It’s an important step towards rebuilding confidence, strengthening practice, and reinforcing our professional identity.
Mental health nursing is relational, skilled, and deeply human work. It shapes the experience of care more than any policy, any model, any metric, and too often even we forget the weight of what we bring.
If there’s one thing I hope for on Mental Health Nurses’ Day, it’s that none of us — not the early career nurse at the wedding, not the colleague on a stretched ward, not the practitioner quietly holding a service together — ever feels the need to shrink again. Our contribution is not secondary. It is not interchangeable. It is not “just” anything.
It sits at the centre of care, and it deserves to be seen and celebrated.
The future of mental health nursing won’t build itself - it needs all of us. We need to champion our profession, speak up for our expertise, and challenge the idea that mental health nursing can be diluted or replaced.
How can we hope to achieve parity of esteem for our patients, when we don’t demand it for ourselves and our work?
We need to nurture the next generation with intention, ensuring students and early‑career nurses see the full richness of what this profession can be and can practice with pride and confidence.
Join our Mental Health Nursing Forum today to be part of this change.
“Oh… I’m just a nurse,” she said.
“Just a nurse?” I replied, genuinely taken aback. “What kind of nurse?”
“A mental health nurse.”
It stayed with me. Here was someone who is dedicating her career to the kind of work that holds services together — the work that sits closest to people’s distress — yet in a room full of other professionals, she saw herself as somehow lesser. Not because anyone had said so, but because the culture around her had quietly taught her to shrink.
Mental Health Nurses’ Day is a useful moment to pause, take stock, and remind ourselves of the extraordinary profession we belong to. Ours is a field with deep roots — a profession that has evolved from the earliest days of asylum care to become a highly skilled, evidence‑informed discipline in its own right. Generations of mental health nurses have shaped a unique clinical identity, grounded in compassion, expertise, and a profound understanding of the human experience.
Relational care is at the heart of our work - we are the clinicians who spend more time with patients than anyone else in mental health care, and that time is essential. The therapeutic relationship has always been our most powerful tool. It’s the basis on which trust is built, distress is understood, and recovery becomes possible. The unique mental health nurse-patient relationship allows us to deliver the breadth of psychosocial interventions that define our practice — from structured therapeutic approaches to the subtle, moment‑to‑moment skills that help people feel safe enough to engage. These skills should never be overlooked or undervalued – they are central to recovery.
But we also need to be honest about where we are now. Mental health nurses are facing immense pressures. Workforce shortages mean teams are stretched thin and many of us are being asked to wear too many hats, often stepping into roles that dilute our specialist contribution. In some cases, mental health nurses are being substituted altogether, as if our expertise is interchangeable. It’s hardly surprising, then, that these conditions fuel the narrative that we are somehow less essential than other clinicians.
Yet despite all this, I remain hopeful — because I can see the profession pushing back, reclaiming its voice, and insisting on the value of what we do. One sign of this is the renewed focus on strengthening the psychosocial foundations of our practice. The RCN’s Psychosocial Interventions Programme is part of that shift, offering a consistent, nationally available educational offer that supports mental health nurses to deepen their therapeutic work. It’s an important step towards rebuilding confidence, strengthening practice, and reinforcing our professional identity.
Mental health nursing is relational, skilled, and deeply human work. It shapes the experience of care more than any policy, any model, any metric, and too often even we forget the weight of what we bring.
If there’s one thing I hope for on Mental Health Nurses’ Day, it’s that none of us — not the early career nurse at the wedding, not the colleague on a stretched ward, not the practitioner quietly holding a service together — ever feels the need to shrink again. Our contribution is not secondary. It is not interchangeable. It is not “just” anything.
It sits at the centre of care, and it deserves to be seen and celebrated.
The future of mental health nursing won’t build itself - it needs all of us. We need to champion our profession, speak up for our expertise, and challenge the idea that mental health nursing can be diluted or replaced.
How can we hope to achieve parity of esteem for our patients, when we don’t demand it for ourselves and our work?
We need to nurture the next generation with intention, ensuring students and early‑career nurses see the full richness of what this profession can be and can practice with pride and confidence.
Join our Mental Health Nursing Forum today to be part of this change.
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