Why I’m passionate about mental health in children’s books

TW: Before we begin, this post touches on mental health, ED and recovery. If those topics feel heavy for you today, take your time with it.

Hey everyone,

A lot of the projects I’ve worked on over the past year have had something in common - they all centre around feelings. Big, complicated, very human feelings.

It’s something that’s close to my heart, because my interest in mental health children’s books isn’t just professional. It’s personal.

Where it all began

Growing up, I struggled with my mental health from a young age. I was bullied at school and, being neurodivergent, often felt like I was a step out of sync with everyone else.

It was lonely, and back then there wasn’t the same awareness or language around mental health that there is now.

I don’t remember reading many stories that showed what it was like to feel anxious or different. There were plenty of adventures, but not many books that said, “You’re okay as you are”.

Looking back, I think those kinds of stories would have made a huge difference. They would have helped me understand myself earlier, and reminded me that feeling different isn’t a flaw.

That’s really where this passion comes from. I know how much it matters to feel seen, and how painful it is when you don’t.

Why children’s books matter

Books are one of the safest places for children to explore emotions. They can see a character feeling nervous, angry, or sad and realise, “Oh, that’s how I feel sometimes too.”

That’s what I love about illustrating children’s books. The words might start the conversation, but the pictures help children process and understand it. The expression on a character’s face, the use of colour, even the space around them - all of it helps them to connect to what’s happening emotionally.

In children’s illustration, you’re not just showing what’s happening. You’re showing how it feels. That might mean using softer colours when a character feels small, or creating warmth and movement when things start to feel hopeful again.

It’s a quiet kind of storytelling, but it’s one that reaches children in a way words sometimes can’t.

Turning experience into purpose

When I started taking illustration seriously, I decided I didn’t just want to make ‘pretty pictures’. I wanted the stories I worked on to have something to say - to comfort, support, or encourage the children reading them.

I’ve seen first-hand how powerful it can be when children are given space to talk about mental health, and how harmful it can be when they’re not. So, I try to make my work a warm invitation for those conversations to happen.

Beautifully illustrated children’s books don’t have to be about mental health directly to make a difference. Sometimes they just need to show a child that everyone feels things deeply, and that emotions aren’t something to hide.

Seeing the difference it makes

One of the best parts of my job is seeing the impact these stories have on both children and the adults reading with them.

The Children’s Wonder Pup series by Angela Murphy, for example, celebrates kindness and understanding. Each book has this lovely balance of adventure and heart, and it reminds children that empathy is something to be proud of.

Then there’s Cool Turtle’s Important Life Lesson and The Shrewd Granny by Janell L. Jordan, both of which explore courage, compassion, and learning from others. They show how much children can take from stories that feel emotionally honest, even when the message is simple.

And then there are projects that hit even closer to home. I once illustrated an eating disorder recovery journal, which ended up being used at the treatment centre I used to attend myself.

Parents later got in touch to say it was helping their children open up about what they were feeling. That meant the world to me. It’s one thing to create something beautiful, but it’s another to know it’s making someone’s day a little easier.

Those moments are a reminder that art really can do something - it can reach people, quietly and meaningfully.

How illustration supports emotional storytelling

When I’m working on books like these, I think a lot about body language, expression, and colour.

For instance, if a story is about a child feeling left out, I might use more muted tones and leave a bit more space around them on the page. If it’s about connection or hope, I’ll lean into warmth, light, closeness, and softness.

Those small choices matter. They tell a reader what words sometimes can’t, and they give children permission to recognise those same feelings in themselves.

That’s the part of children’s illustration I love most: the ability to say “I get it” without needing to use words at all.

Why this work will always matter to me

There are so many wonderful types of children’s books - the fun, the silly, the adventurous - and I love them all. But I’m especially drawn to the ones that help children understand themselves a bit better.

Beautifully illustrated children’s books have the power to comfort and connect. They can be the reason a child realises they’re not strange for feeling a certain way, or the reason they finally talk to someone about what’s been on their mind.

That’s why I’ll always be passionate about working on stories that hold space for mental health. Stories that make children feel safe, seen, and accepted.

If you’re writing one of those stories…

If you’re an author working on a children’s book that explores emotions or mental health, I’d love to hear from you.

These stories matter. They shape how the next generation thinks about feelings, empathy, and kindness. Being part of that journey is something I never take for granted.

You share the story. I’ll bring it to life.

Sending love, Ellie x