What Baseball Can Teach Us About Mental Health: Lessons from Acceptance and Commitment Therapy

As both a mental health counselor and a lifelong die hard Red Sox fan, I've spent countless hours watching baseball. One of the things I love most about the game is that it's a reminder that success isn't about perfection—it's about showing up consistently. Baseball players fail... a lot. Many refer to it as the game of failure.

A hitter who gets on base three out of every ten at-bats is considered one of the best in the league. Imagine if we approached our own lives with that same understanding instead of expecting ourselves to be perfect every single day.

This is something I realized is one of the central ideas behind Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT):

learning that difficult thoughts and emotions are part of being human, not signs that something is wrong with us.

Many people believe they need to eliminate anxiety before they can move forward. They tell themselves, "I'll apply for the job when I'm more confident," or "I'll ask someone out once I'm no longer anxious." ACT teaches something different.

We don't have to wait for our uncomfortable thoughts or feelings to disappear before taking meaningful action. Think about a batter stepping into the box at Fenway Park. Do they feel completely fearless with two outs, a full count, and thousands of fans watching? Probably not.

They step into the batter's box anyway because they've learned that courage isn't the absence of nerves—it's swinging the bat despite them.

Another lesson baseball teaches is that thoughts aren't always facts. Every hitter hears an internal commentary: "Don't strike out." "You missed that pitch." "You're in a slump." Those thoughts may show up automatically, but they don't have to dictate the next swing.

ACT calls this cognitive defusion—learning to notice our thoughts without automatically believing or obeying them. Just because your mind says, "I'm going to embarrass myself," doesn't mean you have to leave the game.

Your mind is constantly generating commentary.

You get to decide whether it's worth listening to.

Baseball also reminds us that we can't control every outcome. A perfectly hit line drive might land directly in a fielder's glove, while a weak blooper may somehow become a game-winning hit. Life works the same way. We can prepare, practice, and give our best effort, but we can't control every result.

ACT encourages us to focus our energy on what is within our control: our actions, our values, and how we choose to respond. Worrying about things we can't control often steals our attention from the things we actually can.

One of my favorite concepts in ACT is values-based living. Great baseball teams don't define an entire season by one bad inning or one tough loss. They return the next day because they're committed to something bigger than yesterday's scoreboard. We can do the same in our own lives.

Even on days when anxiety is loud, depression feels heavy, or self-doubt shows up, we can still ask ourselves, "What kind of person do I want to be today?" Maybe the answer is a caring friend, a devoted parent, a hardworking student, or someone who chooses kindness over fear. Our feelings may influence us, but they don't have to make our decisions.

Whether you're sitting behind home plate at Fenway or simply navigating another Monday morning, remember this: life isn't about batting 1.000. It's about continuing to step up to the plate.

There will be strikeouts, errors, and tough losses.

There will also be base hits, comeback wins, and moments you never saw coming.

Mental health isn't about eliminating discomfort—it's about making room for it while continuing to live a life that matters to you. The next time your mind tells you to stay in the dugout because you might fail, remember that the only way to hit the ball is to step into the batter's box. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is take the next swing.

Oh, and Go Sox!

-- G

Guliana Signorelli, LMHC

https://www.rhodeislandact.com/guliana-signorelli