"Behind the Smile: Navigating the Mental Health Challenges of Dentistry"

Practicing dentistry was tougher than I ever dared admit, even to myself. I didn’t know then what I see so clearly now. Night after night, I’d come home vowing to leave clinical practice forever. I hated it—or at least, I thought I did. Exhausted, frustrated, and judgmental of myself, I was my own worst enemy. I felt like I’d invented imposter syndrome, despite the letters after my name telling a different story.

But here’s the paradox: I didn’t really hate it, not all of it. My conversations and actions painted another picture entirely. Routine dentistry didn’t excite me, but my niche—treating stress-related head, neck, and back pain of dental origin—lit a fire in me. It fascinated and consumed me, pushing me to think, analyse, and study endlessly. And that’s where the irony lies: the very stress I was studying and treating in others was something I was unknowingly battling myself.

Stress was at the heart of everything I did, personally and professionally. It drove me to diagnose people walking down the street and even ask airline hostesses about their headaches—not a chat-up line, just genuine concern. How did I know? What did I see? It was exhilarating then, and it still is now. Even today, I can’t help but notice head tilts, shoulder levels, crossbites, and occlusal issues. It’s a compulsion, a calling. So why did I say I hated the job? That’s the riddle I only began to solve in hindsight.

The truth is, back when I started, mental health wasn’t a conversation, let alone an acceptable admission for a healthcare professional. Burnout? Psychological distress? These were things we endured in silence, masked by smiles and self-deprecating humour. I was no exception. I kept moving—new plans, new countries, new practices—always hoping I could outrun the discomfort. But here’s the kicker: I took me with me. My treatment of the problem was fundamentally flawed.

I see it clearly now. It wasn’t me—it was the job. Dentistry is exacting, perfectionistic, and riddled with challenges that test even the most resilient. Every crown prep on a molar with limited opening, every filling with a squirming patient—each moment builds a cumulative weight. It’s nerve-racking. And that’s the crux of it: the mental health toll comes from this continuous, unrelenting stress. Sleepless nights, second-guessing, and self-doubt—all of it comes with the territory.

And the statistics back it up: 25% of dental practitioners are currently experiencing burnout, and a staggering 33% are suffering from moderate to severe psychological distress. This isn’t just a personal struggle; it’s a systemic issue affecting our entire profession.

So, what have I learned? First, it’s not on me—or you, if you’re in the same boat. Sometimes, it’s the patient, the circumstances, the nature of the work. Second, we need systemic change. The British Dental Journal puts it best: “Addressing the mental health crisis in dentistry head-on… requires systemic changes within the dental industry.” I couldn’t agree more. It’s time to stop expecting the impossible from dental professionals.

And finally, for those ready to move on, there’s good news: there is a way out. Crafting a work-life balance that truly works and finding an elegant exit strategy isn’t just a dream—it’s a necessity for many of us. It’s possible to move forward without the weight of guilt or self-doubt. The answer lies in reclaiming control of your life and designing a future that supports your well-being, not erodes it. I know, because I’ve been there.