How the pursuit of perfection is making teenagers angsty

Mint

21 hours ago

Teena seems to be living the dream. A 17-year-old International Baccalaureate (IB) student in Mumbai, she juggles academic brilliance with extracurricular polish. Her Instagram is filled with curated shots of European vacations, perfect latte art, and smiling selfies. She speaks confidently in school assemblies about mental health and gender identity. On paper, she's the blueprint for success. But behind the filtered images and honour roll certificates, Teena is unravelling. She has panic attacks at night. She zones out during conversations. Her emotional numbness runs so deep that, in therapy, she struggles to name how she feels. 'My parents are proud of me," she says, 'but I feel like I'll stop existing in their eyes if I'm not the best." She has never told them about the panic. 'They'd probably just hire a better tutor." This isn't an anomaly. It's a pattern.
Across India's metros, affluent teens and young adults are suffering from an invisible epidemic of anxiety, emotional dysregulation, identity confusion, and burnout. They are the kids who look sorted, who have access to therapy, gadgets, travel, and liberal education and yet they are often drowning.
ANXIETY IN A PALACE
Dr Sheba Singh, director at TalkSpace-A Mental Health Studio in Mumbai, notes a recurring profile in her clinic: high-functioning teens who seem fine on the surface but are quietly falling apart. 'They get good grades, they participate in everything, they're articulate," she says. 'But they report feeling empty, disconnected, and sometimes even suicidal." Similarly, Dr Diksha Parthasarathy, a neuropsychiatrist at PSRI Hospital, Delhi describes an emotional landscape riddled with anxiety, panic attacks, self-doubt, and chronic exhaustion.
Despite their privilege, these teens express a haunting lack of meaning. 'Affluence creates a paradox, " she explains. 'They have everything except emotional grounding. They are raised to win, but not to feel. This emotional disconnect often stems from the way identity is shaped. From a young age, privileged Gen Z teens are conditioned to perform —academically, socially, even emotionally. According to Mumbai-based psychologist Tanu Choksi, these teens often internalize the belief that their worth is tied to achievements. 'They aren't taught to value rest, failure, or emotional ambiguity. Instead, they learn to fear it," she says. 'Even therapy becomes another checkbox on the success journey."
Dev, a 20-year-old Delhi University student, echoes this sentiment. A star student from an elite school, he's now balancing a finance degree with internships and civil service prep. 'If I stop achieving, I feel like I will disappear," he says. Despite his success, he battles perfectionism and impostor syndrome. 'It never feels like I deserve it."
Early access to therapy is often lauded as a sign of progress. And in many ways, it is. Singh points out that teens are now more open to discussing their feelings. 'They use terms like burnout, boundaries, trauma. It shows that stigma is decreasing." But both Singh and Choksi warn that this fluency can be deceptive. 'Sometimes therapy becomes performative," Choksi says. Teens talk, but deep emotional work remains unstarted. Parthasarathy agrees: 'Teens who intellectualize their emotions may avoid the actual experience of them."
Social media compounds the crisis. 'It's not just screen time," says Singh, 'it's content. Teens are constantly exposed to images of perfection: the perfect body, the perfect life, the perfect activism." This breeds comparison, low self-worth, and emotional fatigue. Teens end up chasing a version of life that doesn't exist. Parthasarathy observes a growing 'lack of contentment" among these adolescents. 'Even when they have strong résumés and supportive families, they feel unsatisfied. There's always another benchmark to meet." Teena admits she deletes posts that don't get enough likes. 'I know it's silly," she says, 'but it still feels like failure."
CONDITIONAL LOVE
Parental intent is not the issue. Most are loving and invested. But love, when conditional on performance, can feel transactional. Singh highlights this emotional distance: 'Support is often outsourced to tutors, therapists, coaches. But kids crave emotional presence, not just logistical support." Many teens grow up in overprotected environments, buffered from discomfort. This may seem nurturing, but it stunts resilience. 'If failure is always fixed externally," Choksi notes, 'then kids never learn to sit with it."
Dev recalls how every problem growing up had a 'solution". A better tutor. A counsellor. A weekend getaway. 'But no one ever just listened," he says. 'It felt like I had to be okay, quickly, so everyone could move on."
As for schools, even international ones are not immune. Counsellors are often focused on academic guidance or behavioural correction. 'We need systems that engage with identity, not just grades," says Parthasarathy. 'And students need to feel safe seeking help internally." Many teens avoid the school counsellor's office altogether, fearing judgement or exposure. And even in progressive schools, emotional well-being is often secondary to achievement.
BREAKING THE CYCLE
So what can be done? All three experts agree: therapy is vital, but it cannot be the only answer. Parents must model emotional honesty. 'Teens need to feel seen," says Singh. 'Not just for their grades or medals, but for their messiness, their vulnerability." Therapists also recommend simple yet consistent activities that build emotional connection.
Parthasarathy suggests 'weekly family check-ins" where everyone shares highs and lows without judgment. 'It helps teens feel like emotional expression is normal, not something to be corrected," she says. Singh encourages collaborative routines like cooking together, playing board games, or taking device-free evening walks. 'These shared experiences create space for connection without the pressure of 'talk'," she adds. Choksi recommends reflective journalling, volunteering, or learning a new skill as solo practices help teens reconnect with themselves.
Teena and Dev are still navigating their paths. Teena has started opening up, not just in therapy, but to a trusted teacher. Dev has begun journalling. These aren't grand solutions but they're real. And in a culture obsessed with filters, perfection and performance, maybe honesty is the most radical act of all.
Divya Naik is an independent writer based in Mumbai.