Back-to-School Without the Stress: Practical Tips for Elementary, Junior High, and High School Students

As summer winds down, many families find themselves navigating a mix of excitement, anticipation, and anxiety. While social media often focuses on the new backpacks, fresh notebooks, and first-day photos, the transition back to school can be emotionally challenging for children and teens.

For some students, back-to-school season brings worries about friendships, academic expectations, social pressures, or adjusting to new routines. For parents, it can mean helping children manage emotions while trying to re-establish structure at home.

The good news? A successful school year isn't determined by having the perfect supplies or a flawless first day. It's built through preparation, connection, consistency, and emotional support.

Here are practical, age-appropriate strategies to help students start the year confidently.

Elementary School: Building Security Through Routine and Connection

Young children thrive on predictability. Research from the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) suggests that consistent routines help children feel safe and reduce anxiety during transitions.

1. Practice the School Routine Before School Starts

Begin adjusting bedtimes and wake-up times one to two weeks before school begins.

For example:

• Move bedtime earlier by 15-20 minutes each night.

• Practice getting dressed, eating breakfast, and leaving the house on schedule.

• Visit the school playground if possible to create familiarity.

2. Talk About Feelings, Not Just Logistics

Many children struggle to identify emotions.

Instead of asking:

• "Are you nervous?"

Try:

• "What are you excited about?"

• "What are you wondering about?"

• "What's something that feels hard about starting school?"

Helping children name emotions can reduce anxiety and increase emotional resilience.

3. Establish a Consistent Goodbye Routine

Whether it's a hug, a special handshake, or a simple phrase like "See you after school," predictable goodbyes create a sense of security.

Avoid prolonging separations, which may unintentionally increase anxiety.

4. Expect Adjustment Periods

Children may be more emotional, tired, or irritable during the first few weeks of school.

This doesn't necessarily mean anything is wrong. Transitions require energy, and many young children need time to adjust.

Junior High: Supporting Independence While Staying Connected

Middle school often brings dramatic changes in friendships, identity development, social dynamics, and academic expectations.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), adolescence is a critical period for social and emotional development, making supportive relationships especially important.

5. Focus on Organization Skills

Rather than simply asking, "Did you do your homework?" help your child develop systems.

Examples include:

• Using a planner or digital calendar

• Creating a homework station

• Setting reminders for assignments

• Reviewing upcoming projects once a week

The goal is to teach executive functioning skills, not to become your child's personal reminder system.

6. Make Space for Daily Check-Ins

Many middle schoolers don't immediately open up after school.

Rather than launching into questions the moment they get in the car, consider creating low-pressure opportunities for conversation.

Try:

• Talking during car rides

• Taking walks together

• Chatting during dinner

• Asking about highs and lows of the day

Connection often happens when kids feel less pressured to talk.

7. Help Them Navigate Friendship Challenges

Friendships can shift significantly during junior high.

Instead of immediately solving conflicts, ask:

• "What do you think your options are?"

• "What would being a good friend look like here?"

• "How do you want to handle this?"

Problem-solving skills build confidence and resilience.

High School: Preparing for Increasing Responsibility

High school students are balancing academics, extracurricular activities, social relationships, technology, and planning for the future.

While teens often seek more independence, they still need adult guidance and support.

8. Teach Time Management Early

Many students struggle not because coursework is too difficult, but because they underestimate how long tasks will take.

Encourage teens to:

• Use calendars consistently

• Break large projects into smaller pieces

• Schedule study time

• Avoid waiting until deadlines approach

These skills serve them far beyond high school.

9. Prioritize Sleep

The American Academy of Sleep Medicine recommends that teenagers get 8-10 hours of sleep per night.

Unfortunately, many teens operate on far less.

Sleep impacts:

• Academic performance

• Emotional regulation

• Attention

• Mental health

• Athletic performance

One practical strategy is creating technology boundaries before bedtime.

10. Talk About Mental Health Before There's a Problem

Normalize conversations about stress, anxiety, disappointment, and emotional well-being.

Consider asking:

• "What's helping you handle stress right now?"

• "How can I support you this semester?"

• "Who can you talk to if you're struggling?"

When mental health conversations become routine, students are more likely to seek support when they need it.

A Few Tips for Parents, Too

As parents, it's easy to become focused on grades, schedules, and performance. But one of the greatest predictors of resilience is a strong parent-child relationship.

Remember:

• Connection matters more than perfection.

• Listen more than you lecture.

• Celebrate effort, not just outcomes.

• Focus on growth rather than comparison.

• Allow mistakes to become learning opportunities.

Children of every age benefit from knowing that their worth is not tied to grades, athletic achievements, or popularity.

Final Thoughts

The transition back to school is about much more than pencils, class schedules, and supply lists. It is an opportunity to help children develop confidence, resilience, emotional intelligence, and healthy habits that will serve them long after the school year is over.

Whether your child is entering kindergarten, starting middle school, or preparing for graduation, what they need most is not a perfect parent or a perfect school year.

They need a safe place to land, someone who believes in them, and consistent reminders that they are capable of handling challenges as they arise.

As parents, educators, and caregivers, our job is not to remove every obstacle from our children's path. It's to help them build the skills and confidence they need to navigate those obstacles successfully.

And that lesson may be the most important one they learn all year.

References

American Academy of Pediatrics. (2024). Back-to-school guidance for families and children. HealthyChildren.org.

American Academy of Sleep Medicine. (2016). Recommended amount of sleep for pediatric populations: A consensus statement.

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2024). Child and adolescent development. CDC.gov.

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2024). School connectedness and youth mental health. CDC.gov.

Masten, A. S. (2014). Ordinary Magic: Resilience in Development. Guilford Press.

Siegel, D. J., & Bryson, T. P. (2020). The Power of Showing Up: How Parental Presence Shapes Who Our Kids Become and How Their Brains Get Wired. Ballantine Books.

Sullivan, A. M., & Miller, E. (2015). The importance of parent-child connection during developmental transitions. Journal of Child and Family Studies, 24(12), 3518-3528.

Before You Get Too Attached: 10 Ways to Set a New Relationship Up for Success

The beginning of a new relationship can feel exhilarating. Everything is fresh, exciting, and full of possibility. You may find yourself looking forward to every text message, learning each other's stories, and imagining what the future could hold.

While chemistry and attraction often spark a connection, a healthy and lasting relationship requires much more than butterflies. Research consistently shows that successful relationships are built on trust, communication, emotional safety, shared values, and intentional effort over time (Gottman & Gottman, 2015; Stanley et al., 2020).

As a marriage and family therapist, I've found that couples who establish healthy patterns early often have a stronger foundation when challenges inevitably arise. If you're beginning a new relationship, consider these ten tips for setting yourselves up for success.

1. Take It Slow Enough to See Clearly

When we're excited about someone, it's easy to rush ahead. However, healthy relationships benefit from allowing time for trust and understanding to develop.

For example, instead of spending every waking moment together during the first few weeks, continue living your normal life while making space for the relationship to grow. Observe how your partner handles stress, disappointment, responsibility, and conflict.

Research on relationship development suggests that gradual commitment allows couples to make thoughtful decisions rather than being driven primarily by intense emotions (Stanley et al., 2020).

2. Talk About Your Values Early

Shared hobbies can create connection, but shared values often sustain relationships.

Discuss topics such as family, finances, spirituality, children, career ambitions, health, and lifestyle preferences.

For example, one partner may dream of living abroad while the other wants to stay close to extended family. Neither desire is wrong, but understanding these values early helps determine compatibility.

3. Pay Attention to Consistency

Trust is built through repeated experiences of reliability.

If someone says they'll call, do they call? If they make plans, do they follow through? Does their behavior match their words?

For example, a partner who regularly arrives late, cancels plans at the last minute, or fails to follow through on commitments may be showing you important information about their current capacity for relationship responsibility.

Consistency often predicts trustworthiness more accurately than grand romantic gestures.

4. Learn How Each of You Handles Conflict

One of the strongest predictors of relationship success is not whether conflict occurs, but how couples manage it (Gottman & Gottman, 2015).

Pay attention to whether disagreements lead to productive conversations or personal attacks.

For example, if one person says, "I felt hurt when you forgot our plans," does the other become defensive and blame-shift? Or do they listen, apologize, and seek repair?

Healthy couples understand that conflict is not the enemy. Disconnection without repair is.

5. Maintain Your Individual Identity

Healthy relationships involve two whole people choosing to share a life together.

Continue spending time with friends, pursuing personal goals, and engaging in hobbies that bring you joy.

For example, if you've always attended a monthly book club or enjoyed solo hiking trips, don't abandon those activities simply because you're in a relationship.

Research suggests that maintaining a healthy sense of self can enhance relationship satisfaction and reduce resentment over time (Aron et al., 2013).

6. Be Clear About Expectations

Many relationship disappointments result from unspoken assumptions.

Talk openly about communication preferences, exclusivity, social media boundaries, finances, and future goals.

For example, one partner may believe texting throughout the day indicates interest and care, while the other views it as distracting during work hours. Neither perspective is wrong, but discussing expectations prevents misunderstandings.

Clarity is often one of the greatest gifts we can give a relationship.

7. Observe How They Treat Other People

Character is often revealed in everyday interactions.

Notice how your partner treats waitstaff, family members, coworkers, and strangers.

For example, someone who speaks respectfully to a server after a mistake or demonstrates patience with an elderly parent is showing qualities that will likely appear in your relationship as well.

Kindness, empathy, and accountability rarely exist in only one area of life.

8. Practice Vulnerability Gradually

Emotional intimacy develops through shared vulnerability and trust.

You don't need to reveal your entire life story on the first few dates. Instead, allow self-disclosure to unfold naturally over time.

For example, sharing a difficult childhood experience and observing how your partner responds can provide valuable information about emotional safety within the relationship.

Research shows that mutual vulnerability strengthens intimacy and deepens relationship satisfaction (Reis & Shaver, 1988).

9. Notice How You Feel About Yourself

One of the most overlooked relationship questions isn't "How do I feel about them?" but "How do I feel about myself when I'm with them?"

Do you feel accepted? Respected? Encouraged?

For example, after spending time together, do you generally feel secure and valued, or do you find yourself constantly second-guessing your worth or walking on eggshells?

Healthy relationships tend to bring out our best selves, not our most anxious selves.

10. Build Together Instead of Trying to Fix One Another

A common dating trap is believing that love will change someone.

While growth is possible, healthy relationships are built on accepting who a person is today, not who you hope they become someday.

For example, if someone consistently struggles with honesty, commitment, or emotional availability, it is important to evaluate the relationship based on their current behavior rather than their potential.

Healthy partnerships involve two people committed to growth, accountability, and mutual support.

Final Thoughts

The strongest relationships are not built on perfect compatibility. They are built on trust, communication, emotional safety, and shared commitment.

The early stages of a relationship can tell us a great deal about how a partnership may function in the future. By slowing down, asking meaningful questions, communicating openly, and paying attention to patterns rather than promises, couples can create a foundation that supports both connection and resilience.

A successful relationship isn't about finding the perfect person. It's about building a healthy relationship with a real person, one intentional step at a time.

And often, the small decisions you make at the beginning become the foundation that supports your relationship for years to come.

References

Aron, A., Lewandowski, G. W., Mashek, D., & Aron, E. N. (2013). The self-expansion model of motivation and cognition in close relationships. In J. A. Simpson & L. Campbell (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Close Relationships (pp. 90-115). Oxford University Press.

Gottman, J. M., & Gottman, J. S. (2015). 10 Principles for Doing Effective Couples Therapy. W.W. Norton & Company.

Reis, H. T., & Shaver, P. (1988). Intimacy as an interpersonal process. In S. Duck (Ed.), Handbook of Personal Relationships (pp. 367-389). Wiley.

Stanley, S. M., Rhoades, G. K., & Markman, H. J. (2020). Fighting for Your Marriage: Positive Steps for Preventing Divorce and Preserving a Lasting Love (4th ed.). Jossey-Bass.

Foreboding Joy: Why We Brace for the Worst When Life Is Going Well

When Joy Feels Unsafe

Have you ever found yourself in a beautiful moment—watching your child sleep, celebrating a professional milestone, enjoying a vacation with people you love—only to suddenly feel a wave of anxiety?

What if something bad happens?

What if this doesn't last?

What if I lose all of this?

According to researcher and author Brené Brown, this experience is remarkably common. She calls it foreboding joy—the tendency to respond to moments of deep happiness with thoughts of potential catastrophe. Rather than fully experiencing joy, we begin mentally preparing for loss.

For many people, foreboding joy feels protective. If we anticipate disappointment, perhaps it won't hurt as much when life inevitably changes. Yet Brown's research suggests that this habit ultimately robs us of the very experiences that make life meaningful.

What Is Foreboding Joy?

Brown describes foreboding joy as the moment when joy is interrupted by fear. It is the emotional shift from:

"This is wonderful" to "Something terrible is probably about to happen."

Examples might include:

• Looking at your healthy child and suddenly imagining a tragic accident.

• Falling in love and immediately worrying about abandonment.

• Experiencing success and fearing imminent failure.

• Feeling connected in a relationship and expecting rejection.

Rather than allowing ourselves to savor happiness, we "dress rehearse tragedy"—Brown's phrase for imagining worst-case scenarios before they occur.

Foreboding joy is not necessarily a diagnosable mental health condition. Instead, it is often a learned emotional strategy intended to reduce vulnerability. As Brown explains, the underlying message is:

"If I don't let myself feel too happy, I won't be devastated if something goes wrong."

Why Do We Do This?

Brown's broader body of research centers on shame, vulnerability, courage, and connection. She argues that joy may actually be one of the most vulnerable emotions humans experience.

When we experience deep joy, we are simultaneously reminded of how much we have to lose.

The deeper the love, the greater the vulnerability.

The greater the meaning, the greater the potential for grief.

For individuals who have experienced trauma, loss, disappointment, or chronic uncertainty, this vulnerability can feel especially threatening. Trauma survivors may become hypervigilant, constantly scanning for danger even during safe moments. As a result, joy can trigger fear rather than relaxation.

In many ways, foreboding joy is an attempt to gain control over an uncontrollable reality: the fact that nothing in life comes with guarantees.

When Foreboding Joy Shows Up at Home

As I write this, my son is preparing to start high school.

On one hand, I feel immense pride. I see a young man who has grown in confidence, maturity, and independence. I am excited to watch him discover new interests, build friendships, and continue becoming the person he is meant to be.

On the other hand, if I'm honest, there is a part of my brain that wants to skip straight to the worries.

Will he find his people? Will he make good choices? What if he gets hurt? What if he struggles socially? What if something happens while he's driving someday? What if he experiences disappointment, rejection, heartbreak, or failure?

As parents, we often assume these fears are evidence of how deeply we love our children. And to some extent, that's true. But Brené Brown's concept of foreboding joy invites us to consider another possibility: perhaps these fears are also a reflection of how vulnerable love makes us feel.

When my son talks about being excited for high school, I have a choice. I can allow myself to stay present in the joy of this milestone, or I can mentally fast-forward through every possible thing that could go wrong over the next four years.

The truth is that my worry doesn't protect him.

My anxiety doesn't make him safer.

My catastrophic thinking doesn't prepare me for every possible outcome.

What it does do is steal my ability to fully experience this season with him.

Brown often describes foreboding joy as "dress rehearsing tragedy." In other words, when something wonderful happens, we instinctively begin preparing for loss. We imagine that if we think about the worst-case scenario often enough, it won't hurt as much if it happens.

Yet most parents know from experience that worrying ahead of time doesn't actually reduce pain. It simply spreads the suffering out over a longer period.

I don't want to spend my son's first year of high school mourning things that haven't happened. I want to celebrate who he is today. I want to enjoy conversations at the dinner table, rides to school, football games, orchestra concerts, and the ordinary moments that make up family life.

That doesn't mean I stop worrying entirely. It means that when worry shows up, I recognize it for what it is: vulnerability wearing a disguise.

Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is allow ourselves to feel grateful for what we have right now, knowing that nothing in life comes with guarantees.

The Connection Between Scarcity and Joy

A central theme in Brown's work is the concept of scarcity—the belief that there is never enough.

Not enough time.

Not enough success.

Not enough security.

Not enough certainty.

Within this mindset, joyful experiences often feel fragile and temporary. Instead of enjoying them, we begin worrying about when they will disappear. Brown identifies "letting go of scarcity and fear of the dark" as essential to cultivating gratitude and joy.

Scarcity tells us:

"Don't get too comfortable."

"Don't celebrate yet."

"Don't trust this."

The result is that we become emotionally unavailable for our own lives.

Gratitude: The Antidote to Foreboding Joy

One of Brown's most significant research findings was that joyful people consistently practiced gratitude. She observed that individuals who described themselves as joyful did not become grateful because they were happy; rather, they became joyful because they intentionally practiced gratitude.

This finding was transformative because it challenged a common assumption:

Joy is not what creates gratitude. Gratitude is what cultivates joy.

When Brown found herself imagining catastrophic scenarios involving her children, she began using those moments as reminders to practice gratitude. Instead of following the fear, she redirected her attention toward appreciation for the present moment.

Gratitude does not guarantee that painful things will never happen.

Instead, gratitude helps us remain present to what is real right now.

Foreboding Joy and Clinical Practice

As therapists, we often encounter clients who struggle to tolerate positive emotions.

Some individuals can discuss pain, anxiety, or disappointment in great detail but become uncomfortable when exploring hope, love, success, or happiness.

This reaction makes sense when viewed through a trauma-informed lens.

Positive emotions can feel risky.

Connection can feel dangerous.

Joy can feel like setting ourselves up for heartbreak.

For many clients, healing involves learning that they can survive vulnerability without immediately preparing for catastrophe. Developing emotional flexibility means allowing both joy and uncertainty to coexist. We can acknowledge life's inherent unpredictability while still engaging fully in moments of beauty and connection.

Learning to Savor Joy

Brown emphasizes that courage is not the absence of fear but the willingness to remain open despite fear.

When foreboding joy appears, it can be helpful to pause and ask:

• What am I afraid of losing?

• Is this fear happening now, or am I imagining a future event?

• Can I stay present in this moment?

• What am I grateful for right now?

The goal is not to eliminate vulnerability. Vulnerability is the price of love, connection, and meaning.

The goal is to stop sacrificing today's joy in an attempt to protect ourselves from tomorrow's pain.

Final Thoughts

Foreboding joy reflects a deeply human paradox: the things we treasure most often make us feel the most vulnerable.

We love deeply, and therefore we fear loss.

We celebrate success, and therefore we fear failure.

We experience joy, and therefore we become aware of life's uncertainty.

Brené Brown's work reminds us that the answer is not to love less, hope less, or celebrate less. The answer is to cultivate gratitude and allow ourselves to fully inhabit the present moment. While we cannot prevent future heartache, we can choose not to miss today's joy because we are busy rehearsing tomorrow's tragedy.

References

Brown, B. (2010). The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. Hazelden Publishing.

Brown, B. (2022). Atlas of the Heart. Random House. (Referenced in secondary sources discussing foreboding joy.)

Brown, B. (2013). "Why Joy Feels So Terrifying—and How to Let It In." O, The Oprah Magazine.

Williamsburg Therapy Group. (2024). "What Is Foreboding Joy and How Can I Avoid It?"

Psych Central. (2022). "When Joy Feels Scary: Exploring Foreboding Joy."

When the Calendar Remembers: Understanding Traumaversaries and How to Cope

There are moments in healing when clients say, “I don’t know why this week feels so heavy.” Nothing obvious has changed—yet sleep gets worse, anxiety rises, and emotions feel closer to the surface. Then, almost as an afterthought, they realize: “Oh… this is when it happened.”

This is what we often call a traumaversary.

A traumaversary, sometimes referred to as a trauma anniversary, is the date or season associated with a past traumatic event. Clinically, we might describe what follows as an “anniversary reaction”—a noticeable increase in distress, emotional intensity, or trauma-related symptoms around the time the event occurred. What makes this especially confusing is that it often happens without conscious awareness. The body begins to react before the mind catches up. That’s because trauma is stored not just as a story, but as a network of sensory and emotional memory, including cues like time of year, light, weather, and even subtle environmental shifts.

In this way, the calendar itself can become a trigger.

A Personal Reflection

I know this not only as a therapist—but as a daughter. I lost my mom to breast cancer, and there are still days throughout the year that carry a quiet weight. The date of her diagnosis. The day we said goodbye. Even the season when everything began to change.

Sometimes it’s subtle. I notice I feel more reflective, a little more tender, or more easily overwhelmed, and it takes a moment before I connect that shift to the calendar. Other times it’s unmistakable—a wave of grief that rises quickly and fully, reminding me that even though time has passed, love and loss still live in the body.

What has changed over time is not the presence of the grief, but my relationship to it. I used to interpret those moments as setbacks, wondering why I wasn’t “further along.” Now I understand them differently. These are not signs of regression. They are moments of remembrance. They are evidence that something meaningful happened—something that shaped me—and that my nervous system still recognizes its significance.

That shift—from resisting to understanding—has been part of my own healing.

A Clinical Perspective

From a clinical perspective, this makes sense. Traumaversaries often feel intense because they activate the same survival wiring that was engaged during the original event. Around these dates, people may notice increased anxiety, sadness, irritability, disrupted sleep, or even physical symptoms like fatigue or tension. For some, the distress begins days or even weeks before the actual anniversary, accompanied by a vague sense of dread that can feel confusing when it’s not yet connected to the date.

One of the most important things to understand is this: these reactions are not a sign that you are failing in your healing. They are a reflection of a nervous system that learned to protect you. In that sense, they are deeply human.

How to Prepare for a Traumaversary

When we begin to view traumaversaries as predictable patterns rather than random disruptions, something shifts. Instead of bracing against them, we can begin to prepare for them. That preparation doesn’t have to be complicated. Often, it starts with awareness—simply naming what is happening. When you can say, “This is a traumaversary response,” it changes the experience from something confusing and overwhelming into something understandable and expected.

From there, it becomes easier to approach these periods with intention. Rather than focusing only on the specific date, it can be helpful to think of a wider window of time, recognizing that your mind and body may begin to respond before the anniversary itself arrives. During that window, many people find it helpful to gently lower expectations, build in more rest, and approach themselves with flexibility rather than pressure.

Grounding becomes especially important during these times. Trauma has a way of pulling us into the past, and grounding helps bring us back into the present. This might look like noticing your surroundings, naming what is currently safe, or engaging your senses in simple, tangible ways. These practices do not erase what happened, but they remind your nervous system that you are no longer there.

Connection also plays a significant role in navigating traumaversaries. Letting a trusted person know that a difficult date is approaching, or intentionally planning some form of gentle support, can create a buffer against isolation. You do not have to carry those days alone.

Over time, many people also find meaning in creating small rituals. These moments of intention can transform an anniversary from something that happens to you into something you actively shape. Lighting a candle, writing a reflection, visiting a meaningful place, or engaging in a spiritual practice can all offer a sense of grounding and connection.

In my own life, this has been one of the most powerful shifts. The days connected to my mom’s illness and loss still come around each year, but they no longer feel like something I have to get through as quickly as possible. Instead, they are days I move through with awareness. Sometimes they are heavy. Sometimes they are quiet. Often, they are both.

And increasingly, they carry not only grief—but love, memory, and meaning.

Traumaversaries remind us that healing does not mean forgetting. It means learning how to stay present when remembering arises. With awareness, preparation, and compassion, even the hardest dates on the calendar can become something more than just pain. They can become part of an ongoing story of resilience, connection, and care.

References

Ellie Mental Health. (2025). Trauma anniversaries: How to recognize, cope, and support loved ones.

Hamblen, J., Friedman, M. J., & Schnurr, P. P. (2016). Anniversary reactions in adults. National Center for PTSD.

Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. (2024). The anniversary effect of traumatic experiences.

Mission Connection Healthcare. (2026). 5 grounding techniques for trauma triggers.

MQ Mental Health Research. (2024). What is a traumaversary and how can it affect us?

NeuroLaunch Editorial Team. (2024). Understanding trauma anniversaries: The anniversary effect in PTSD.

Simply Psychology Editorial Team. (2026). Trauma anniversaries: Why certain dates bring symptoms back.

U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, National Center for PTSD. (2025). Trauma reminders: Anniversaries.

AFN. (n.d.). Grounding techniques for trauma.

The Science of Patience: Brain‑Based Parenting Strategies

Why Patience Is a Brain Skill, Not a Personality Trait

One truth I share with families in my therapy office every week: patience is a brain‑based skill, not a moral achievement. It depends on the parts of the brain responsible for emotional regulation, impulse control, and stress recovery. And those systems are still under construction in children and often overwhelmed in adults. Patience grows when we understand the brain’s limits and support its needs. Brain‑based parenting gives us a roadmap for nurturing regulation, connection, and resilience in ourselves and our kids. 

This idea is central to interpersonal neurobiology and child development research (Siegel & Bryson, 2011). When we understand the brain, we stop seeing behavior as defiance and start seeing it as communication. This perspective shift profoundly changed the way that I parent, and the way that I work with children and families. 

The Child Brain: Why Kids Struggle With Patience

Children aren’t born with the neurological wiring for patience. The prefrontal cortex (the part of the brain responsible for waiting, planning, and impulse control) won’t fully mature until a person’s mid‑20s (Siegel & Bryson, 2011). The following list of considerations may help us understand why a child may struggle with patience: 

• The Upstairs/Downstairs Brain

The Upstairs/Downstairs Brain model helps parents visualize this. The “downstairs brain” (emotion and survival) develops early. The “upstairs brain” (logic, empathy, self‑control) develops slowly. When a child is overwhelmed, the downstairs brain takes over.

• The Triune Brain

This aligns with the classic Triune Brain model, which describes the survival, emotional, and thinking layers of the brain (MacLean, 1990). Patience requires access to the thinking brain, and kids simply don’t have consistent access to it yet.

• Sensory Overload

Many “impatient” moments are actually sensory overload moments. Bright lights, loud sounds, hunger, or fatigue. These all shrink a child’s capacity to wait. We often say “children aren’t giving you a hard time, they’re having a hard time.”

• The Window of Tolerance (for children)

The Window of Tolerance describes the zone where we can think clearly, feel emotions without being overwhelmed, and stay connected to others (Siegel, 1999). When a child is outside of their “Window” we may see hyper, explosive, frantic behavior, or a child that shuts down, becomes withdrawn, or feels numb.

The Parent Brain: Why Patience Is Hard for Adults Too

Parents often assume they “should” be patient because they’re adults. But the adult brain is just as vulnerable to stress. The following list of considerations may help us understand why even the best parents among us may struggle with patience: 

• Stress Shrinks Our Patience

When we’re overwhelmed, the amygdala fires rapidly, reducing access to the calm, rational prefrontal cortex (Hughes & Baylin, 2012).

• Mirror Neurons Make Us “Catch” Emotions

Children’s big emotions activate our own. Their dysregulation can trigger ours. This is why a child’s meltdown can feel contagious.

• Polyvagal Theory

The Polyvagal Theory explains that when our nervous system senses threat (real or perceived) we shift into fight, flight, or shutdown (Porges, 2011). Patience becomes nearly impossible in that state.

• Intergenerational Patterns

Our own childhood experiences shape how we respond to stress. If we weren’t allowed big feelings growing up, our child’s big feelings may feel threatening (Siegel & Hartzell, 2013).

• The Window of Tolerance (for adults)

In the same way a child has a window of tolerance, so does a parent. When a parent is outside of their window, they report “snapping,” feeling flooded, wanting to check out, or just feeling overwhelmed and “done.”

Brain‑Based Parenting Strategies That Build Patience

Patience requires both parent and child to be inside their window. If either person is outside it, regulation, not discipline, is the priority. Regulation first. Teaching second. Patience is a learned skill. Here are the strategies (for both parents and children) that I teach most often in therapy that are simple, science‑backed, and effective.

Co‑Regulation Before Correction

Connection calms the nervous system. This aligns with the “regulate, relate, reason” sequence described by Perry & Szalavitz (2006).

• Get low

• Use a warm tone

• Offer a simple reflection: “You’re frustrated.”

• Then guide behavior

Name It to Tame It

Labeling emotions helps quiet the emotional brain and re‑engage the thinking brain (Siegel & Bryson, 2011).

Sensory Regulation Tools

Movement, deep pressure, and breathwork help reset the nervous system. These bottom‑up strategies are supported by somatic and sensorimotor research (Ogden et al., 2006).

• Wall push‑ups

• Slow breathing

• Weighted blankets

• Jumping or stretching

Predictability and Routines

The brain loves predictability. Visual schedules, timers, and transition warnings reduce stress and increase patience (Shanker, 2016).

Parent Self‑Regulation

Small, in‑the‑moment tools help parents stay grounded:

• Drop your shoulders

• Exhale longer than you inhale

• Put your hand on your heart

• Step away briefly if needed

How We Can Create a “Patience‑Ready” Home Environment

There is no such thing as a perfect parent, but a “patience ready” home environment can help both parent and child make progress and see growth. A home that supports regulation supports patience.

• Reduce Sensory Overload

  • Lower lights

  • Reduce clutter

  • Create quiet zones

• Create a Calm Corner

  • A cozy space

  • Pillows, blankets

  • books, sensory tools

  • soft lighting, sensory-friendly

• Connection vs. Protection Mode

  • Use the connection vs. protection framework to help children feel safe enough to stay regulated.

When Patience Breaks: Repair as a Brain‑Building Tool

No parent is patient all the time, and “messing up” is to be expected. What matters most is what happens next. “Repair” strengthens attachment and teaches children that relationships can recover (Tronick, 2007).

A simple repair might sound like:

“I’m sorry I yelled. You didn’t deserve that. I was overwhelmed, and I’m working on staying calm. We’re okay. I love you.”

A repair like this builds trust, resilience, and emotional safety.

Patience Is a Practice, Not a Perfection Goal

Patience isn’t something you “have” or “don’t have.” It’s a skill that grows with awareness, practice, and compassion for yourself and your child. If you take one thing from this post, let it be this:

You don’t need to be a perfect parent to raise a healthy child. You just need to be a regulated one.

References

Hughes, D. A., & Baylin, J. (2012). Brain‑based parenting: The neuroscience of caregiving for healthy attachment. W. W. Norton & Company.

MacLean, P. D. (1990). The triune brain in evolution: Role in paleocerebral functions. Springer.

Ogden, P., Minton, K., & Pain, C. (2006). Trauma and the body: A sensorimotor approach to psychotherapy. W. W. Norton & Company.

Perry, B. D., & Szalavitz, M. (2006). The boy who was raised as a dog. Basic Books.

Porges, S. W. (2011). The polyvagal theory: Neurophysiological foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, and self‑regulation. W. W. Norton & Company.

Shanker, S. (2016). Self‑Reg: How to help your child (and you) break the stress cycle and successfully engage with life. Penguin Press.

Siegel, D. J. (1999). The developing mind: Toward a neurobiology of interpersonal experience. Guilford Press.

Siegel, D. J., & Bryson, T. P. (2011). The whole‑brain child: 12 revolutionary strategies to nurture your child’s developing mind. Delacorte Press.

Siegel, D. J., & Hartzell, M. (2013). Parenting from the inside out (10th anniversary ed.). TarcherPerigee.

Depression: How to Exist When Existing Feels Like Too Much

Depression is often misunderstood as just feeling sad, but anyone who has experienced it knows it's more complex and more consuming than that. It shows up as exhaustion, irritability, numbness, lack of motivation, even physical aches and pains.  It can make the simplest tasks feel overwhelming and what you once found meaningful just feels…pointless.  It's too much. Your bucket is empty.

Managing depression isn’t about flipping a switch or “thinking positive,” although being intentional and curious about your thoughts can be a helpful part of the process. Managing depression isn’t doing any one thing; it’s doing many small things.   It’s about filling up your bucket one drop at a time.

The first drop in your bucket…

One of the biggest traps with depression is waiting to feel better before doing anything.  Unfortunately, depression doesn’t work that way.  Action comes before motivation; sometimes you have to do the thing you feel most resistant to.  

Instead of asking yourself, “Do I feel like doing this?” Try “What’s one small thing I can do anyway?”  Getting moving can lead to more action and also gives you a sense of accomplishment.  

The second drop in your bucket…

Depression distorts effort.  Things feel bigger, heavier, harder, more complicated than they are.  The workaround is to reduce the size of the task, not find more energy to exert.  Instead of facing the task of cleaning the house, for example, change the task to putting away 5 items.  Instead of responding to your emails, respond to one email.  Small successes and accomplishments are what build momentum.  

The next drop…

When your mood drops, structure often goes with it.  A lack of structure makes it hard to feel regulated.  Creating a flexible daily schedule can help to stabilize your system.  Wake up and go to bed at the same time.  Eat regularly even if your appetite is low (remember reducing the task; instead of eating a whole meal, simply eat a snack.)  Build in at least one nonnegotiable, like taking a shower or stepping outside of the house.  You don’t need a rigid routine, but you and your body need some predictability. 

A rather big drop for your bucket.

Depression feeds on avoidance; you feel low, you withdraw, life shrinks, you feel worse, you withdraw even more.  It doesn't take long before you feel completely alone.  Breaking this loop requires doing things that don’t immediately feel rewarding.  It may feel flat at first but that doesn't mean it’s not working.  Here again is where we look for momentum, not drastic change.  This means answering a message, going for a walk, engaging in something you used to care about for even a short amount of time.  

How many drops have you added?

Depression changes how you interpret everything.  Information is filtered through your feelings, which means that your thoughts sometimes flat out lie to you.  Common thought patterns include “nothing will help.”  “I’m a burden.”  “This will never change.”  These thoughts feel true, but they are symptoms, not facts.  Instead of arguing with these thoughts, try labeling them.  “This is a depression thought.”  Ask yourself what you might say to a friend who has these kinds of thoughts.  Creating distance from your thoughts can reduce their power.  And creating compassion for yourself can take the hard edge off these lies. 

One more drop.

Isolation feeds depression; it makes it stronger.  The tricky part is that depression also makes you want to isolate.  You don’t need deep conversations or big social plans to feel connection.  Sit near other people in a coffee shop, text one person, spend time next to someone with no agenda or pressure to talk. Connection doesn’t have to be intense or planned to be effective. And each connection point is one more drop. 

Another drop.

Depression is not just emotional; it’s also physiological.  Supporting your body can shift your mood baseline over time. Aim for consistent sleep.  Engage in some kind of movement; even light activity helps regulate mood.  Eat healthy; regular meals stabilize energy and brain function.  Get a bit of sunlight; exposure helps regulate body rhythms.  None of these are quick fixes, but together they matter.  They are all drops in your bucket.

A final drop.

Give yourself credit when credit is due! One of the most frustrating parts of managing depression is that improvement is often slow and subtle. Pay attention to the little things. One day you may get out of bed a little quicker, you may feel slightly less overwhelmed in a familiar situation, you may recover a little bit faster from low moments, you may catch yourself smiling.  Notice these moments!  They are easy to dismiss, but they are changes and they are meaningful and they build momentum. 

You don’t need to solve everything all at once to live with depression. That feels like too much. But you can interrupt the cycle one drop in the bucket at a time. 

Beyond the Screen: Why We Find Our Healing in Cinematic Worlds

Film series like Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, and Wicked have done more than just dominate the box office; they’ve cultivated "cult" followings that span generations. With incredible cinematography and soaring scores, these films do something rare: they create worlds we imagine ourselves living in.

I recently saw trailers and headlines for the new Harry Potter series and the latest movie in the Hunger Games series. Despite the fact that the original movies premiered well over 10 or 20 years ago, these series never seem to lose forward momentum and keep fans new and old coming back for more. As a fan of both series, I was particularly excited to see new versions of my favorite series coming to life. But what is it about these movies that continue to capture our attention? What causes us to rewatch again and again and mark our calendars with release dates?

Rewatching these stories and returning for every new iteration offers more than just nostalgia; it provides the emotional corrective experience we all crave (When a TV Show Feels Like Therapy: The Power of Corrective Emotional Experiences). However, I believe the connection goes deeper. When we see ourselves in these characters, we aren't just observers—we are participants. We project ourselves into their dilemmas, imagining how we would face their trials and, in turn, how we might be freed from our own demons. Their victories become a blueprint for our own. Across franchises like Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, and Wicked, a consistent theme emerges: the corruption of institutional power. These systems are initially framed as benevolent, protective, or "necessary" for the greater good. Yet, as the narrative unfolds, we witness the profound damage caused by any system permitted to operate without accountability.

These films portray a similar story of trauma that I hear every week in my therapy office. Stories about systems of power, control, and abuse that take advantage of small, helpless victims. The system is too big and powerful to be silenced or stopped, so the victim lives in isolation. The system might be big, like organized religion or government. Or the system might be small, like a toxic family or relationship. In either case, the damage caused by unchecked power and control is damaging.

The definition of trauma is a deeply distressing or disturbing experience that overwhelms an individual’s ability to cope; causing lasting negative effects on their mental, physical, social, or emotional well-being. It’s a physiological and psychological "shattering" of an individual’s sense of safety and affects every aspect of an individual’s life long after the traumatizing event (or events) is over. In my work as a trauma-informed therapist, I see how early experiences of trauma continue to impact individuals well into adulthood. Even though each story is different, there is a common theme of abuse or threat done by someone with more power and influence than themselves. The symptoms that follow include helplessness, anger, loneliness, grief, deep shame, and a quest for justice.

In these films, we have a literal front row seat at the traumatic experiences of the main characters. We get to see how the trauma makes these characters complex, flawed, and in many ways - relatable to our experiences.

The Hero’s Burden: Harry Potter

Harry is the "Chosen One," yet his foundation is built on abuse and neglect by the Dursleys. The Ministry of Magic and Wizarding World celebrate him, using him as a symbol of victory and reverence.  However, they turn on him the moment he exposes the cracks in their system. We see the betrayal and the gaslighting as the system tries to discredit him when he exposes their secrets and deception. We watch as Harry and his friends attempt to fight back. Harry’s impulsivity and temper are relatable because he has no outlet for his grief and anger. His life is full of loss and betrayal, yet he finds the power within himself to overcome his weaknesses and win the battle he never asked to fight.

The “Wicked” Truth: Elphaba

Elphaba lived a life of oppression and racism; excluded and isolated because of the things that made her different and at the hands of her own father. In her story we see a created villain, the one who was labeled “wicked” when she saw behind the literal and proverbial curtain. Her story is captivating because we watch her reclaim her voice, even when the system prevails, making her a symbol for anyone who has been silenced and rejected for speaking the truth.

The Survivor’s Reality: Katniss Everdeen

Katniss Everdeen is perhaps my favorite because we see the raw complexity of her flaws and strengths. We see the impulsivity and temper, the way she pushes people away that try to help her, believing herself so flawed and unloveable she hurts the people that care for her most. In Katniss, we see the true result of a life lived in survival mode. Katniss has no choices and nothing to lose. The Capital attempts to use her as their pawn in their quest to maintain power; we see the uprising of followers that connect with her spirit of justice. Her path to victory is not without setbacks and collateral damage. But we see an example of someone that refuses to be defined by her trauma.

The cinematic arc of a broken, abused child to a hero that defeated the system is similar to the healing process in therapy. The road to healing and victory is messy and, similar to the big screen, the end result doesn’t always look like everything falling perfectly into place. Victory is still full of pain, heartache, and learning to live life in a different way. But the enduring legacy of these films lies in their ability to provide a blueprint for resilience. By watching characters navigate betrayal, isolation, and systemic abuse, viewers find a safe space to process their own "demons." Ultimately, these cinematic worlds suggest that while trauma may be a part of one's origin story, it does not have to be the final word; like the heroes on screen, individuals can reclaim their agency and refuse to be defined solely by the systems that sought to break them.

Resources:

SAMHSA’s Concept of Trauma and Guidance for a Trauma-Informed Approach

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma (Book by Bessel van der Kolk, M.D.)

Supporting Secure Attachment When Parenting Feels Hard

Secure attachment is strongly linked to healthy emotional, social, and cognitive development. It remains a powerful gift that we can give our kids throughout their childhood. But parenting can be so challenging. Stress, fatigue, and life circumstances can make emotional connection feel impossible. 

Even experienced parents struggle. In my practice, I see many children with ADHD, sensory sensitivities, or emotional regulation challenges. I also encounter families navigating destabilizing life events (divorce, work stress, moves) that can also impact connection. But our work teaches us that secure attachment doesn’t require perfect parenting, it requires responsive repair and consistent availability over time. 

Strategies to Strengthen Attachment Under Stress

Here are a few simple ideas to strengthen attachment, even when parenting feels hard, or your family is facing challenges. 

1. Slow down interactions when possible

2. Prioritize emotional presence over solving every problem

3. Repair after disconnection (acknowledge frustration, apologize, and reconnect)

4. Ask for support (therapy, parent coaching, or support groups)

Children learn that relationships are resilient when they see their caregivers model patience, self-compassion, and repair.

Parenting is Hard. Could I benefit from therapy? 

Therapy has made a profound impact on my ability to handle parenthood’s more “challenging” moments both inside and outside of my home. Potential outcomes include (but are not limited to) helping parents

• Understand their own attachment histories

• Learn attunement and repair strategies

• Build emotional regulation skills

• Support neurodivergent or highly sensitive children

• Show up as a healthier version of themselves for their kids

Research shows improving caregiver attunement strengthens attachment security and improves social, emotional, and academic outcomes (Cassidy et al., 2013).

My most important takeaway from attachment theory is this:  Secure attachment is about connection, not perfection. Every small moment of empathy, repair, or responsiveness contributes to a child’s sense of safety and resilience. You don’t have to get it right all the time. You just have to be willing to show up, do the work, repair, and grow alongside your child.

Learn More

Recommended Reading

• Good Inside: A Practical Guide to Resilient Parenting by Dr. Becky Kennedy

• The Nurture Revolution by Dr. Greer Kirshenbaum

• Parenting from the Inside Out by Daniel Siegel, M.D., and Mary Hartzell

Watching

• Circle of Security parenting videos  from www.circleofsecurityinternational.com

Other Resources from Post: 

Cassidy, J., Jones, J. D., & Shaver, P. R. (2013). Contributions of attachment theory and research: a framework for future research, translation, and policy. Development and psychopathology, 25(4 Pt 2), 1415–1434. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0954579413000692

Zajac, L. Raby, K. L., & Dozier, M. (2020). Sustained effects on attachment security in middle childhood: Results from a randomized clinical trial of the Attachment and Biobehavioral Catch-up (ABC) intervention. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry 61(4), 417-424. https://doi.org/10.1111/jcpp.13146

Rituals of Connection: Why Our Annual Family Vacation Matters

We just returned from a week-long family trip across Tennessee—Dollywood, long car rides, arcade stops, laughter that bordered on chaos, and the kind of exhaustion that only comes from being fully present with your people. As I slowly transitioned back into normal life—unpacking suitcases, opening emails, stepping back into my roles as a clinician, leader, and mom—I found myself reflecting on something I often teach, but don’t always fully feel in the moment: this wasn’t just a vacation. It was a ritual of connection.

In the Gottman Method, rituals of connection are more than routines or traditions. They are intentional, repeated interactions that carry shared emotional meaning and create a sense of predictability and belonging in relationships. These rituals are the ways we consistently communicate, “You matter to me,” and “We are in this together.” Over time, they contribute to what Gottman calls shared meaning, a foundational piece of strong, lasting relationships. They also create opportunities to “turn toward” one another—those small moments where someone reaches out for attention, connection, or support, and we choose to respond. Those repeated moments build an emotional bank account of trust and closeness that sustains relationships over time.

When I think about our annual family vacations through that lens, I see them differently now. They are not just time off—they are a deeply intentional ritual that reinforces who we are to each other.

This trip felt especially meaningful because we didn’t just travel as a single family—we vacationed alongside another family who shares similar values around connection and togetherness. There was an unspoken agreement between us that the goal of the week wasn’t to maximize activity or check every box. It was to be present. To let connection be the priority over productivity—even on vacation. And that shared value changes everything. It creates space where conversations can linger, where kids can play without being rushed to the next thing, and where relationships—both adult and child—have room to deepen.

One of the most unexpectedly meaningful parts of the trip was watching our children be loved and engaged by other healthy, caring adults. There is something deeply reassuring—and honestly, deeply moving—about seeing other adults take genuine interest in your kids. Not in a surface-level way, but in a present, invested, “I see who you are and I enjoy being with you” kind of way.

As a parent, we carry so much of the responsibility for nurturing, guiding, and showing up for our children. And while that is meaningful, it can also feel heavy at times. Being in a community—even temporarily—where other adults are laughing with your kids, including them, asking them questions, and creating moments of connection with them helps distribute that emotional load in such a healthy way. It reminds our children that they are valued not just within the safety of their immediate family, but in the broader world around them. And it reminds us, as parents, that we are not meant to do this alone.

I was also reminded how natural it feels to reconnect with people who already know you well. In the middle of full, busy lives, there are often quiet gaps in social connection that develop—not because we don’t value relationships, but because life gets crowded. Responsibilities increase, time gets tighter, and friendships that once felt effortless require more intention to sustain. The connection doesn’t disappear, but it can go dormant.

This trip gave us the chance to step back into those relationships, and it didn’t feel forced or awkward. It felt like returning. The conversations picked up easily. The laughter came quickly. That sense of being known—without needing to explain yourself—reappeared almost immediately. And in that reconnection, something was restored.

Research on family travel supports this broader impact. Vacations don’t just strengthen immediate family bonds—they also provide meaningful opportunities to reconnect socially, deepen relationships, and reinforce a sense of belonging and identity. In many ways, they help fill in the relational gaps that naturally form in the busyness of everyday life.

At the same time, the impact on our immediate family was just as significant. Research shows that shared travel experiences increase bonding, improve communication, and strengthen emotional connection while creating lasting memories. When we step outside of our routines, we step out of autopilot. We slow down just enough to see each other again, listen more closely, and engage more fully.

This week was not perfect. There were long lines, tired kids, overstimulation, and moments where I absolutely lost my patience. And still, what stands out most is how much we laughed, how much time we spent side by side, and how naturally connection resurfaced when we made space for it.

It reminded me that connection doesn’t need to be manufactured—it needs to be prioritized.

Stepping away from work and routine can feel uncomfortable, especially for those of us who carry a lot of responsibility. There is a quiet pressure to keep producing, to stay ahead, to not fall behind. But time away from routine has been shown to reduce stress and improve overall well-being. More importantly, it restores our capacity to be present—within our families, within our friendships, and within ourselves.

As I sit here now, with laundry still waiting and real life fully back in motion, I feel something deeper than rest. I feel reconnected—to my family, to meaningful friendships, and to the shared values that ground us.

Because this week wasn’t just about getting away.

It was about returning—to each other, to community, and to the rhythms that keep our relationships strong.

And about remembering how good it feels when we don’t have to carry connection alone.

References

Gottman Institute. (2017). 5 rituals to reconnect in your relationship.

Gottman Institute. (2026). The little things that keep love strong.

Schänzel, H. A. (2013). The importance of “social” in family tourism. Asia-Pacific Journal of Innovation in Hospitality and Tourism, 2(1), 1–15.

Mirehie, M., & Sharayevska, I. (n.d.). Family travel, positive psychology, and well-being. Indiana University ScholarWorks.

Durko, A. M., & Petrick, J. F. (2013). The benefits of travel: Family and relationships literature review. Texas A&M University.

Center for Relationship and Sexual Wellness. (2024). The importance of rituals in relationships: Insights from Gottman’s research.

The Psychology of Shared Music: Concerts, Connection, Fandom, and the Case for Letting People Love What They Love

There is something profoundly human about gathering in a room full of strangers and feeling, even briefly, like you all belong to each other. Concerts are not just entertainment—they are emotional ecosystems.

As a therapist, I spend my days helping people regulate their nervous systems, repair attachment wounds, and reconnect with parts of themselves that have been silenced or forgotten. And increasingly, I find myself pointing to something deceptively simple as part of that healing process:

Go experience music with other people.

My face of pure joy watching Sara Bareilles at the Hollywood Bowl!

The Mental Health Benefits of Concert Attendance

1. Social Connection and Belonging

A robust body of research confirms that social connection is foundational to mental health. Live events—including concerts—offer a unique environment that facilitates both bonding with close others and meaningful connection with strangers.

Unlike many structured social interactions, concerts create a shared emotional experience where participants are synchronized in attention, movement, and affect. This phenomenon, often referred to as “collective effervescence,” produces a sense of unity and transcendence that contributes to lasting well-being.

In simple terms:
We feel less alone because, for a moment, we are literally in it together.

2. Emotional Regulation and Stress Reduction

Music engagement—especially in live settings—has been shown to reduce anxiety, improve mood, and enhance emotional well-being.

Research also indicates that listening to music in group settings can decrease stress hormones such as cortisol, offering measurable physiological relief.

Additionally, shared music experiences stimulate neurochemical processes associated with bonding and safety, including the release of oxytocin—the hormone linked to trust and connection.

For many individuals, especially those navigating chronic stress or trauma, concerts function as a nervous-system reset—accessible, embodied, and deeply regulating.

3. Identity Formation and Meaning-Making

Music does not simply accompany our lives—it organizes them.

Research suggests that engagement with music contributes to identity development, mood regulation, and meaning-making processes across the lifespan.

Songs become markers of time. Lyrics give language to experiences we may not yet fully understand. Albums hold entire seasons of our lives.

The Psychology of Fandom: When Loving Something Is Good for You

Reframing “Obsession” as Connection

The term “obsession” is often used pejoratively, particularly when describing fans—especially women—who express deep affection for artists or creative work.

However, contemporary psychological research offers a more nuanced perspective.

Most fans exist within what researchers describe as the “entertainment-social” or “intense-personal” range, both of which are considered normative and often beneficial. Only extreme, boundary-violating behaviors fall into clinically concerning categories.

Fandom, in its healthy form, provides:

• Belonging and community

• Identity scaffolding

• Emotional expression and validation

• Motivation and inspiration

In fact, parasocial relationships—those one-sided emotional connections to public figures—can serve as “valuable social resources” that reduce loneliness and provide comfort.

These bonds are not inherently pathological. They are human.

Fandom as Social Identity

Fandoms operate as communities, shaped by shared values, language, and rituals. Participation in these communities contributes to social identity and self-concept.

For individuals who have felt marginalized, misunderstood, or isolated, fandom can become a space of recognition:

A place where you don’t have to explain why it matters—because everyone already knows.

Why We Should Stop Shaming People for Loving What They Love

Despite the evidence supporting the benefits of fandom, cultural narratives continue to dismiss or ridicule people—especially women and adolescents—for their enthusiasm toward artists or bands.

This is not benign.

Research consistently demonstrates that belonging is a core psychological need. Disrupting or dismissing a source of belonging can have real emotional consequences.

Moreover, fandom communities are often described as supportive environments that allow individuals to express themselves, develop skills, and experience social connection.

When we shame someone for loving something that causes no harm, we are not correcting behavior—we are invalidating joy, identity, and connection.

In some cases, we are reinforcing the very isolation we claim to be concerned about.

A Personal Reflection: On Being a “Super Fan”

As both a clinician and a human being, I would be remiss not to acknowledge my own place in this conversation.

I am, without hesitation, a Sara Bareilles super fan.

Her music has been woven through the fabric of my life for years. Each album represents a different season—different versions of myself, different thresholds of growth, different moments of grief and becoming.

There are songs that held me when words failed.
Songs that gave me courage when I needed to speak.
Songs that reminded me who I was when I felt disconnected from myself.

My only tattoo is a song title—written in Sara Bareilles’ own handwriting.

That is not incidental.
That is integration.

From a clinical lens, this is a clear example of how music can function as a relational anchor—a consistent, meaningful thread woven through shifting life experiences.

From a human lens, it’s simply this:

Her work has mattered to me.

A few years ago, I attended a Sara Bareilles concert at the iconic Hollywood Bowl, and what unfolded that evening was a near-perfect example of what research describes as collective effervescence—that sense of unity, emotional synchronization, and belonging that emerges in shared musical spaces.

From the moment we arrived, the experience was relational.

We spread out a picnic—sushi, charcuterie, a bottle of wine—settling into a setting that felt both intimate and expansive, surrounded by the unmistakable magic of a California evening. The weather was perfect. The atmosphere was alive. The Bowl itself—layered in history and meaning—felt like a sacred space for connection.

And then something subtle but profound happened.

I felt instantly connected to the strangers sitting around us.

No introductions necessary. No background context. No social posturing. Just a shared understanding: we are here because this matters to us.

This is the psychology of concerts in real time—barriers drop, and what remains is a shared emotional language.

The Experience of Shared Meaning

The evening opened with Renée Elise Goldsberry—known to many as Angelica from Hamilton—whose performance set the tone for what would become an emotionally expansive night.

Then, Sara took the stage.

She moved seamlessly between beloved songs and selections from her work in musical theater—reminding us that music is not only entertainment, but storytelling, identity-building, and creative expression all at once.

At one point, she debuted two new songs, including one from the upcoming musical The Interestings, which premiers this January. There is something uniquely powerful about witnessing art in its becoming—it invites the audience into the creative process, deepening both connection and meaning.

Midway through the show, she transitioned off the stage and into the audience—performing just a short distance away from where we sat. In that moment, the boundary between artist and audience dissolved. It became less about performance and more about presence.

Emotion, Regulation, and Permission

I had not seen Sara Bareilles perform live since 2019, though I’ve had the privilege of seeing her perform in Waitress and Into the Woods in New York City.

And yet, this experience was different.

More personal.
More emotional.
More integrated.

For a significant portion of the show, I found myself crying—freely, openly.

Not just out of sadness. Not just out of joy.

But both.

This is something I emphasize often in clinical practice:
All feelings are valid—and often, they coexist.

Live music creates a space where emotional expression is not only permitted, but normalized. You don’t have to explain why a song matters. You don’t have to justify your emotional response.

You just get to feel it.

Music as a Lifeline Across Time

When I say that Sara Bareilles’ music has “saved me,” I do not mean that metaphorically.

Her music has accompanied me through multiple chapters of my life—grief, growth, identity shifts, moments of quiet resilience and profound transformation. Each album holds a story. Each song carries emotional data that has helped me process experiences I did not yet have language for.

This is consistent with what we know clinically:
Music becomes an emotional container, a regulation tool, and a continuity anchor for identity.

It links who we were, who we are, and who we are becoming.

Clinical Implications

For therapists, educators, and caregivers, the implications are clear:

• Encourage shared music experiences as a form of relational connection

• Validate fandom as a legitimate source of meaning and identity

• Assess for balance rather than intensity when evaluating fan engagement

• Challenge internalized shame around passion, joy, and enthusiasm

And perhaps most importantly:

Recognize that what may appear trivial from the outside often carries deep psychological significance on the inside.

Conclusion

We live in a culture that often encourages detachment while quietly longing for connection.

Concerts offer connection.
Music offers regulation.
Fandom offers belonging.

And joy—unapologetic, enthusiastic joy—is not something we should be teaching people to suppress.

If something is meaningful, life-giving, and causes no harm, we do not need to pathologize it.

We may, in fact, need more of it.

And if you ever find me in a crowd, singing every word of a Sara Bareilles song with complete emotional commitment—know that from both a clinical and personal perspective…

I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

References

Becker, A. S., et al. (2026). Musician presence and its effects on physiological and psychological well-being in live versus livestreamed concerts. Scientific Reports.

Brenner, B. (2025). The psychology of parasocial relationships: From fandom to healthy boundaries. Therapy Group DC.

Dingle, G. A., et al. (2021). How do music activities affect health and well-being? A scoping review. Frontiers in Psychology, 12.

Godman, H. (2024). Do parasocial relationships fill a loneliness gap? Harvard Health Publishing.

Wiedeck, C. (2025). 14 surprising health benefits of attending concerts. Festivaltopia.

Jackson, M. M., & Thompson, A. (2024). Psychological impacts of fandom culture. Ohio State University analysis.

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria: Why Rejection Can Feel Overwhelming

New Episode of The 3 Pairs of Glasses Podcast!

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) describes an intense emotional reaction to perceived rejection, criticism, or judgment. While everyone experiences rejection sensitivity at times, RSD goes further—it becomes a dominant lens through which interactions, relationships, and even ambiguous communication are interpreted. On a recent episode of Summit Family Therapy’s 3 Pairs of Glasses Podcast, therapists explored how RSD impacts mental health, relationships, and daily functioning.

RSD is especially common among individuals with ADHD, autism, and trauma histories, though neurotypical individuals may also relate. What makes RSD distinct is not just emotional pain, but how quickly the nervous system shifts into fight‑or‑flight. Clients often describe symptoms similar to panic attacks—racing heart, stomach drop, chest tightness, sweating—triggered by uncertainty like “We need to talk” or “Come see me later.” Because of this, RSD is frequently misdiagnosed as panic disorder or generalized anxiety.

Coping Patterns That Can Make Things Worse

People with RSD are often highly adaptive—but that adaptability can come at a cost. Common survival strategies include people‑pleasing, masking, social chameleon behavior, and emotional withdrawal. These behaviors reduce the risk of rejection short‑term but may lead to loneliness, depression, and loss of identity over time. Many clients describe feeling disconnected from their “real self” after years of adapting to avoid rejection.

Therapeutic approaches like Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) can be especially effective. Learning to regulate emotions before reacting, separating feelings from facts, and making “data‑driven” decisions help clients distinguish between actual rejection and perceived rejection. Small practices—pausing, checking evidence, and grounding the body—can significantly reduce the intensity of RSD reactions.

Support Makes a Difference

For partners and family members, clarity is key. Direct communication, reassurance, and emotional consistency help counteract the ambiguity that fuels RSD. Knowing “where I stand” with someone can calm the nervous system and restore a sense of safety.

If you recognize signs of Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria in yourself, know this: you are not too sensitive, you are not broken, and you are not alone. With the right support, RSD can become manageable—and even a source of deeper self‑understanding and healthier relationships.

Listen to the Full Podcast Episode

3 Pairs of Glasses Podcast – Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria

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Is Empathy Who You Are—or Something You Can Learn?

If you’ve ever found yourself asking, “Why do some people just naturally get it… and others don’t?”—you’re not alone. This question comes up in therapy rooms all the time. It lives in conversations about relationships, parenting, leadership, and even self-compassion. At its core is a deeply human curiosity: Is empathy something we’re born with, or something we can learn?

The answer, grounded in decades of psychological and neuroscience research, is both simple and complex: empathy is partly a personality trait and partly a skill that can be developed across the lifespan. Understanding that dual nature can be incredibly freeing—especially if empathy didn’t always come easily to you.

Let’s begin with a shared language.

What Is Empathy?

Empathy is often described casually as “putting yourself in someone else’s shoes,” but in psychology, it is understood as a more nuanced, multi-dimensional capacity.

The American Psychological Association defines empathy as understanding another person from their frame of reference and vicariously experiencing their emotions, thoughts, and perceptions.

Contemporary research expands this further, describing empathy as both:

• the ability to understand another person’s inner experience, and

• the ability to emotionally resonate with that experience, while still maintaining a sense of self-other distinction

Most scholars divide empathy into two core components:

Cognitive empathy
The ability to understand what someone else might be feeling.

Affective (emotional) empathy
The ability to feel a responsive emotional connection to another’s experience.

These two don’t always align perfectly—and in clinical practice, helping people strengthen both (while staying regulated) is key.

Is Empathy a Personality Trait?

There’s some truth to the idea that empathy is part of who we are. Research shows that empathy has trait-like qualities, meaning people tend to have relatively stable patterns of empathic responsiveness across time.

Genetics and temperament also play a role. Studies estimate that roughly 30–50% of differences in empathy may be influenced by genetic factors, with the rest shaped by environment and experience.

Additionally, empathy tends to correlate with personality traits like Agreeableness, which includes compassion, warmth, and cooperation.

And yet, this is only part of the picture.

Why Empathy Is Not Fixed

Empathy is not a static characteristic that you either have or don’t have.

Psychologists distinguish between trait empathy (your general tendency) and state empathy (what shows up in a given moment).

That means:

• You can generally be empathic and still struggle when you’re overwhelmed.

• You can struggle with empathy and still show deep attunement in certain relationships.

In fact, some research shows that situational factors—like stress, emotional state, or context—can influence empathic responses more than personality traits in the moment.

Empathy is dynamic. It rises and falls. It can be strengthened—and it can also be depleted.

Can Empathy Be Learned?

Here is the part I most want people to hear:

Empathy can absolutely be learned, strengthened, and rebuilt at any age.

Systematic research shows that targeted empathy training programs lead to measurable improvements in empathic capacity, especially when they include practice, reflection, and feedback.

Other studies confirm that experiential approaches—like role-playing, narrative work, and mindfulness—are particularly effective in increasing empathy.

There’s even evidence that empathy-related processes can change at the neurological level through training and intentional practice.

In other words:
Empathy is not just something you are—it is something you practice.

Brené Brown on Empathy and Boundaries

Brené Brown’s work has brought a powerful and clinically useful lens to empathy—one that I see resonate deeply with clients.

She reframes empathy not as a personality trait, but as a set of skills that can be taught and practiced, which aligns closely with the research on empathy training. But perhaps even more importantly, she highlights something that is often missing from conversations about empathy:

Empathy requires boundaries.

In her work on vulnerability, shame, and connection, Brown emphasizes that true empathy is not about over-identifying, fixing, or absorbing someone else’s pain. It is about staying present with another person while remaining grounded in your own emotional center.

She makes a distinction between empathy and sympathy, reminding us that:

• Sympathy often distances (“at least…” statements)

• Empathy connects (“I’m here with you in this”)

But empathy without boundaries can quickly lead to overwhelm, burnout, or emotional enmeshment.

This is where her work intersects beautifully with trauma-informed care:

• We need self-awareness to recognize our limits.

• We need emotional regulation to stay present without flooding.

• We need clear boundaries to sustain empathy over time.

Brown often says, “Clear is kind.”
And when it comes to empathy, that truth matters.

You can care deeply about someone and still say:

• “I want to support you, and I need to pause right now.”

• “I hear how hard this is, and I’m not able to fix it—but I’m with you.”

• “I care about you, and I also need to take care of myself.”

In clinical work, I often tell clients:
Empathy that costs you your nervous system is not sustainable empathy.

When empathy is paired with boundaries, it becomes:

• more regulated

• more authentic

• more enduring

And ultimately, more healing—for both people.

How Empathy Develops Across the Lifespan

Empathy begins early in life, shaped by temperament and caregiving.

In infancy, we see emotional contagion. Over time, children develop perspective-taking, emotional regulation, and moral awareness, deepening their empathic capacity.

Caregiving environments play a major role—attuned relationships foster empathy, while chronic stress or relational disruption can interfere with its development.

But development doesn’t stop in childhood.

Empathy continues to evolve throughout adulthood, shaped by:

• relationships

• lived experiences

• intentional reflection

• exposure to new perspectives

How to Develop Empathy at Any Age

Developing empathy is less about becoming someone new and more about strengthening existing capacities.

In both research and practice, the following approaches consistently help:

• Emotional awareness – learning to identify and regulate your own feelings

• Perspective-taking – intentionally imagining another person’s experience

• Curiosity over judgment – asking questions instead of making assumptions

• Reflective practices – journaling, therapy, or mindfulness

• Attuned listening – being fully present without fixing or interrupting

Even everyday experiences—like reading stories, engaging with diverse perspectives, or having meaningful conversations—can expand empathic capacity.

A Trauma-Informed Perspective

From a trauma-informed lens, it’s important to name this clearly:

If empathy feels hard for you, that may not be about your character—it may be about your history.

If your early environment was emotionally unsafe, overwhelming, or inconsistent, your nervous system may have learned to prioritize protection over attunement.

That is adaptive.

And it is not permanent.

With safety, support, and intentional practice, empathy can be rebuilt—even in adulthood.

Final Thoughts

Empathy is not simply something you either have or don’t have.

It is:

• a capacity influenced by temperament and early development,

• a dynamic response shaped by context, and

• a skill that can be cultivated over time.

Brené Brown’s work reminds us of something essential:
Empathy is not about losing yourself in someone else’s experience—it’s about being present with them while staying anchored in yourself.

And that is where real connection happens.

If empathy has felt difficult for you, it doesn’t mean you’re incapable of it.
It may simply mean no one ever showed you how to practice it safely.

The good news?
You can learn—at any stage of life—to understand, connect, and respond in ways that deepen both your relationships and your sense of self.

References

Abramson, A. (2021). Cultivating empathy. Monitor on Psychology, 52(8). American Psychological Association.

American Psychological Association. (2023). Empathy. APA Dictionary of Psychology.

Cunsolo, S., Richardson, D., & Vrolijk, M. (2021). How empathizing develops and affects well-being throughout childhood. UNICEF Office of Research – Innocenti.

Decety, J., & Jackson, P. L. (2004). A social-neuroscience perspective on empathy. Current Directions in Psychological Science.

Decety, J., & Holvoet, C. (2021). The emergence of empathy: A developmental neuroscience perspective. Developmental Review.

Fabi, S., Weber, L. A., & Leuthold, H. (2019). Empathic concern and personal distress depend on situational but not dispositional factors. PLOS ONE, 14(11).

Håkansson Eklund, J., & Meranius, M. S. (2021). Empathy as a multidimensional construct. Frontiers in Psychology.

Larionow, P. (2025). The dark and light sides of empathy: Clinical relevance of cognitive and affective empathy. European Journal of Investigation in Health, Psychology and Education, 15(3).

Martingano, A. J. (2025). Yes, empathy can be trained like any other muscle. Psychology Today.

Riess, H. (2021). Empathy can be taught and learned with evidence-based education. Emergency Medicine Journal, 39(6).

Schwartzkopf, C. T., Alves, R. T., Lopes, P. C., et al. (2025). The role of training and education for enhancing empathy among healthcare students: A systematic review. BMC Medical Education.

Srivastava, K., & Das, R. C. (2016). Empathy: Process of adaptation and change—Is it trainable? Industrial Psychiatry Journal, 25(1).

Wang, H., Habil, H., & Ibrahim, N. A. (2026). Empathy training in health professions education: A systematic review. International Medical Education, 5(2).

Additional for Brené Brown

Brown, B. (2012). Daring greatly: How the courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. Gotham Books.

Brown, B. (2015). Rising strong: How the ability to reset transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. Spiegel & Grau.

Memorial Day in Central Illinois: Holding Grief, Honoring Loss, and Supporting Each Other

The Meaning Beneath the Long Weekend

Memorial Day in Central Illinois often arrives with the things we’ve come to expect this time of year—parades in Peoria, backyard gatherings, kids running barefoot in the grass, and that subtle sense that summer is finally beginning. It’s a rhythm our community knows well. And yet, for many people, this day carries something much heavier beneath the surface.

There is often a quiet pause that accompanies the noise. A name that lingers just beneath awareness. A memory that feels unexpectedly close.

Memorial Day is not just a long weekend. It is a day of remembrance—a time to honor those who died in service to our country and to acknowledge the grief carried by the families, friends, and communities who continue living with that loss. And here in Central Illinois, where community runs deep, that collective remembering can feel both comforting and profoundly painful at the same time.

How Grief Shows Up (Especially on Days Like This)

For many families, especially those connected to military service, Memorial Day can reopen grief in ways that feel surprising, even years later. Grief does not follow a calendar. It lives in the body, in memory, and in the nervous system, often resurfacing when something reminds us of who we’ve lost.

One of the most important things I remind clients—and myself—is that grief is not linear. It is not a set of predictable stages that unfold neatly over time. Research continues to show us that grief is a deeply personal process that shifts, ebbs, and returns in waves.

You may find yourself feeling deep sadness, irritation, numbness, fatigue, or even moments of laughter that come with a surprising sense of guilt. All of this is normal. Grief doesn't just live in our emotions—it affects our bodies, our sleep, our focus, and our energy. And around days like Memorial Day, those responses are often amplified because the meaning of the day taps into something deeper than words.

Why Memorial Day Can Feel Especially Heavy

Here in Peoria and across Central Illinois, Memorial Day is marked by ceremonies, flags placed with intention, and moments of reflection in shared spaces. For some, these rituals create connection and healing. For others, they intensify the awareness of absence. They highlight who is not here to stand beside us anymore.

For families of fallen service members, Memorial Day can bring grief to the surface in powerful ways, reminding them that their loss is ongoing and deeply personal.

Even if your loss is unrelated to military service, grief is still valid. Loss does not need a specific category to matter. If you are missing someone today, that experience deserves space.

A Personal Reflection: Gratitude and Perspective

As I sit with the meaning of Memorial Day each year, I also find myself reflecting on my own family.

My brother served in the U.S. Army and was deployed to Poland during COVID—a time when the entire world already felt uncertain and fragile. Like so many military families, we lived in that in-between space of pride and quiet anxiety. There is something unique about loving someone who serves. You carry both honor and fear at the same time. You go about daily life while part of your mind gently scans the horizon of “what ifs.”

That experience changed how I sit with this day.

Because when Memorial Day comes around, I feel something very specific: gratitude. My brother came home safely. And I am deeply aware that not every family gets that reality.

For many, Memorial Day is not about reflection alone—it is about permanent absence. For Gold Star families and for those who have lost loved ones in service, this day is not symbolic. It is deeply personal. It represents the cost of service and the continuation of love long after loss.

Holding my own gratitude alongside that awareness has deepened my respect for families who carry that grief every single day—not just on Memorial Day. It reminds me that behind every flag is a story, a family, and a life that mattered deeply.

And if you are someone carrying that kind of loss, I want to say this clearly: your grief is seen. Your loved one is remembered. What you carry matters.

Learning to Care for Grief Instead of Fix It

For those navigating grief—whether your loss is tied to military service or not—healing does not come from trying to eliminate grief. It comes from learning how to be in relationship with it.

That often begins with allowing your feelings to exist without judgment. Many people try to minimize or push away their grief, especially when others around them appear to be “doing fine.” But grief that is ignored tends to linger longer. When we give it space—through tears, memory, writing, or quiet reflection—we begin to support the natural healing process.

Connection also plays a critical role. While grief often pulls people inward, isolation can deepen suffering. Reaching out, even in small ways, can create moments of relief and connection in the midst of pain. Sharing a memory, sitting with someone, or simply allowing yourself to be supported can make a meaningful difference.

The Role of Ritual, Body Care, and Meaning

Rituals can be especially powerful on Memorial Day. They offer a way to honor grief while staying connected to love. Whether that means attending a ceremony in Peoria, lighting a candle at home, or visiting a meaningful place, these actions create space for remembrance and reflection.

Grief also lives in the body. Many people notice sleep disruptions, fatigue, or difficulty concentrating during periods of loss. Gentle care—rest, nourishment, and movement—can help regulate the nervous system during an emotionally intense time.

And in the midst of grief, there is something that often feels complicated but is deeply human: moments of joy.

It is okay to laugh.
It is okay to feel lightness.

Grief and joy are not opposites—they exist together. Feeling joy does not mean you have forgotten. It means you are continuing to live.

What It Really Means to Support Someone Who Is Grieving

Supporting someone in grief often feels intimidating, but it doesn’t need to be complicated. What matters most is presence.

Many people worry about saying the wrong thing and end up saying nothing at all. But silence can feel like distance. A simple acknowledgment—letting someone know you are thinking of them or remembering their loved one—can offer meaningful comfort.

Grief is not something to fix, and attempts to do so can sometimes feel minimizing. What helps most is showing up, listening, and allowing someone’s experience to be exactly what it is.

It also matters to continue showing up over time. Support often fades after the initial loss, but grief does not. When someone checks in weeks or months later, it reminds the grieving person that they haven’t been forgotten.

And perhaps most importantly, supporting someone means respecting their unique process. There is no single right way to grieve. Some people want to talk openly. Others need space. Healing happens when people are given permission to move through grief in ways that feel authentic to them.

A Final Reflection for Memorial Day

Here in Central Illinois, we pride ourselves on community. Memorial Day offers an opportunity not just to gather, but to reflect, to remember, and to gently make space for the grief that so many people carry quietly.

If this day feels heavy for you, you are not alone.
If it feels peaceful, that is okay too.

Grief is not something we get over. It is something we learn to carry.

And over time, with support and self-compassion, that weight shifts. It softens—not because the loss mattered less, but because you have learned how to hold it differently.

This Memorial Day, whether you are standing at a ceremony in Peoria, sitting quietly at home, or surrounded by family while carrying something deeper underneath, know this:

You are allowed to feel all of it.
And you do not have to carry it alone.

References

• American Psychological Association. (n.d.). Tools for dealing with grief.

• Harvard Health Publishing. (2026). Ways to support someone who is grieving.

• National Institute on Aging. (2024). Coping with grief and loss.

• Psychology Today. (2026). How to best support someone who is grieving.

• Simply Psychology. (2026). How to support a grieving person.

• The Conversation. (2025). Research-backed grief support strategies.

• U.S. News & World Report. (2026). How to cope with grief.

• Mental Health America. (n.d.). Bereavement and grief for military families.

• GriefShare. (n.d.). Memorial Day and grief.

• Refinery Counseling Services. (n.d.). Grief and healing on Memorial Day.

• Mission Roll Call. (2024). Supporting grief on Memorial Day.

A Brief Guide to Attachment Styles and What They could Mean for Your Child

If you have been around the therapy or child-development world for a while, you may have encountered terms like “anxious attachment” or “avoidant attachment.” Hearing these terms as a parent may cause worry. Is it possible that a child could get permanently set in a pattern? Or that you’ve done something wrong as a parent? Not necessarily! In this post, my goal is to unpack what these attachment styles look like, and what they can mean for your children. 

What Attachment Styles Tell Us

Attachment styles describe how children learn to manage emotions and relationships based on their experiences with caregivers. They are adaptive responses, not fixed traits. Children can change attachment patterns over time when relationships are supportive and responsive.

Here’s a simple breakdown:

1. Secure Attachment: Children feel safe seeking comfort. They trust adults will respond. These kids can manage emotions more effectively because they know support is available.

2. Anxious (also known as “Ambivalent”) Attachment: Children may worry about adult availability. They often seek reassurance intensely, sometimes repeatedly. This can emerge when care is loving but is perceived as inconsistent.

3. Avoidant Attachment: Children learn to minimize emotional needs and rely on themselves. This may appear as independence or emotional distance, often when caregivers are perceived as less responsive to emotional cues.

4. Disorganized Attachment: Children show confusion or fear in seeking comfort. Often linked to what a child could perceive as a stressful or unpredictable environment. These children can show both approach and avoidance behaviors.

Why Attachment Styles Shouldn’t Be Used As Labels

It’s important to remember that these attachment patterns don’t define a child’s future. Attachment patterns are responses to early experiences. Research shows that with consistent, responsive caregiving, even later in childhood, children can shift toward secure attachment (Cassidy et al., 2013).

Tip for parents: Watch for small moments of connection. Even brief interactions, (examples like reading a book together or simply responding calmly to frustration) can foster security.

Attachment Can Look Different Across Settings

A child may show secure attachment at home but anxious behaviors at school, and that is actually fairly normal. Attachment is relationship-specific and context-dependent. It’s also dynamic; a child’s attachment patterns evolve with experience.

Research Snapshot

• Ainsworth’s “Strange Situation” studies demonstrated that children’s behaviors during brief separations predict later social and emotional outcomes.
  
  

• Longitudinal research shows securely attached children tend to have better coping skills, higher self-esteem, and healthier relationships (Sroufe, 2005).
  
  

Curious to Learn More? 

Recommended Reading

• Good Inside: A Practical Guide to Resilient Parenting by Dr. Becky Kennedy

• The Nurture Revolution by Dr. Greer Kirshenbaum

• Parenting from the Inside Out by Daniel Siegel, M.D., and Mary Hartzell

Watching

• Circle of Security parenting videos  from www.circleofsecurityinternational.com
  
  

Other Resources from Post: 

Cassidy, J., Jones, J. D., & Shaver, P. R. (2013). Contributions of attachment theory and research: a framework for future research, translation, and policy. Development and psychopathology, 25(4 Pt 2), 1415–1434. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0954579413000692 

Sroufe L. A. (2005). Attachment and development: a prospective, longitudinal study from birth to adulthood. Attachment & human development, 7(4), 349–367. https://doi.org/10.1080/14616730500365928 

The Clinical Blur: Distinguishing Between Relatable Content and Real ADHD

If you’ve spent any time on TikTok or Instagram lately, you’ve likely seen a video that looks like this: a creator points to a list of "relatable" quirks—like losing your keys, liking coffee, having twenty browser tabs open, or my most recent favorite, showering backwards—and ends with the caption: “Did you know this was a sign of ADHD?”

While these videos help reduce stigma and build community, they’ve also created a clinical blur. By rebranding universal human experiences as symptoms, they often minimize the actual impact of the disorder. This leaves many wondering if their struggles are a legitimate neurodevelopmental issue or just a trendy list of relatable habits.

Real ADHD is far more than a collection of quirks; it is a life-altering condition. If you’ve scrolled past these videos and felt confused about your own symptoms—or if you're considering an evaluation—this blog will help clear up the misconceptions between "social media ADHD" and the clinical reality.

Relatability vs. Impairment

The primary difference between social media "symptoms" and a clinical diagnosis is the threshold of impairment.

• Social Media ADHD: ADHD is presented as a collection of relatable behaviors - forgetting why you walked into a room; losing your keys or phone and running late to work; forgetting to send the Venmo; getting really excited about a new hobby. These videos go viral because they are universally relatable, providing a sense of community for everyone who occasionally feels scattered.

• Clinical ADHD: For those with ADHD, it isn’t just about occasionally forgetting, or remembering to do the thing; it’s about how often the thing happens and how much it ruins your day/week/month/life. To meet the clinical criteria (DSM-5-TR), symptoms must significantly interfere with your ability to function in two or more settings (like work and home). So, it’s not just "losing your keys"; it’s losing your keys so often you’ve been late to work four times this month and are facing disciplinary action. It’s not realizing you’ve forgotten why you walked into the room until several minutes or hours later because you got distracted by something else. This cycle of distraction leads to lost time, a mountain of unfinished tasks, and a demoralizing shame spiral.

The "Superpower" Myth

On social media, hyperfocus is often rebranded as a productivity hack or a "superpower" in that it allows for long, sustained periods of attention and focus; allowing individuals with ADHD to accomplish big, creative projects.

• Social Media ADHD: Presents hyperfocus as an on-demand productivity hack where you suddenly become a genius at a new hobby or deep clean your house in a few hours. Relatability comes into play here as well because who hasn’t gotten super excited about a new interest or hobby; stayed up way too late finishing a book; or felt a surge of motivation to complete a boring task or chore. Hyperfocus is clinically different from high interest or motivation.

• Real ADHD: Hyperfocus is actually dysregulated attention. The brain gets "locked in" on a task and cannot easily stop or transition. While it can be productive, it is rarely a choice. You might spend six hours researching Victorian wallpaper while forgetting to eat, missing a doctor’s appointment, or letting laundry mildew. It isn’t a superpower if you can't control it; it’s an involuntary "lock-in" that is often more draining than helpful.

The Source of the Symptom

Social media often misattributes "common struggles" like distractibility and burnout to ADHD, ignoring the underlying why. While stress and lack of sleep can mimic ADHD, the root of true ADHD is biological, not lifestyle-driven or due to a lack of willpower.

ADHD primarily affects Executive Function—the brain’s "command center" for logic, planning, and impulse control. This dysfunction is driven by a chronic shortage or misuse of two key neurotransmitters:

• Dopamine (The Reward Signal): Associated with motivation and pleasure. Low dopamine makes it nearly impossible to start "boring" tasks (like taxes or dishes). The brain instead "hunts" for high-stimulation activities like social media or food to compensate.

• Norepinephrine (The Clarity Signal): Responsible for alertness and prioritization. Without it, the brain cannot filter out "noise"—whether that’s a literal sound or an intrusive thought. This leads to the hallmark disorganization and "inability to do the thing."

The Critical Difference: Everyone experiences occasional impulsivity or procrastination. However, while lifestyle changes (better sleep, less stress) can fix "digital burnout," they do not "cure" the chronic, lifelong neurological hurdles of an ADHD brain.

Why This Matters

Simplifying ADHD into "quirks" risks minimization and misdiagnosis. Procrastinating on taxes or being bored in a meeting is often just a human reaction to a high-pressure world. Clinical ADHD, however, is a lifelong neurodevelopmental condition; treating it as a trend discounts the actual suffering of those living with it.

Overgeneralizing symptoms in short videos misses the root of the struggle, leading people to self-diagnose or avoid professional help. This is problematic because anxiety, burnout, and chronic stress can all mimic ADHD but require very different treatments.

The Next Step:

If you see yourself in these videos, use them as a starting point—not a diagnosis. If your "quirks" are causing genuine distress, skip the “ADHD Planner” and see a therapist for an evaluation. A professional can separate lifestyle-driven stress from clinical ADHD and provide targeted strategies to improve your executive function.

References

Hallowell, E. M. (2023). ADHD explained: Your toolkit to understanding and thriving. DK Publishing.

The Gifts of Imperfection: What Brené Brown Taught Me About Letting Go of “Enough”

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from trying to be everything to everyone—especially when your brain is wired to notice every misstep, replay every conversation, and quietly whisper, “You could have done that better.”

If you’ve ever felt that pull toward perfection—whether in parenting, relationships, or your work—you are not alone.

That’s why I find myself returning (and re-reading, especially when life feels misaligned) Brené Brown’s book The Gifts of Imperfection. It’s not just a book—it’s a gentle but powerful recalibration. A reminder that the goal isn’t perfection. It’s wholehearted living.

Let me walk you through some of the key takeaways that have shaped both my personal life and my work with clients.

1. You Are Worthy of Love and Belonging—Right Now

At the core of Brown’s work is this simple but life-altering truth:

We don’t have to earn our worthiness.

And yet, so many of us live as if we do.

We hustle for approval. We perform for acceptance. We shape-shift in relationships hoping to avoid rejection.

For those of us with ADHD, rejection sensitivity, or perfectionistic tendencies, this can feel especially relentless.

But Brown reminds us:
Worthiness is not something you achieve. It’s something you remember.

2. Perfectionism Is Not the Same as Healthy Striving

This one hits hard in therapy rooms.

Perfectionism often masks itself as ambition, responsibility, or “just caring a lot.” But underneath, it’s usually driven by fear:

• Fear of failure

• Fear of judgment

• Fear of not being enough

Healthy striving says: “I want to grow.”
Perfectionism says: “I can’t mess this up.”

And those are very different nervous system experiences.

Letting go of perfectionism doesn’t mean letting go of standards. It means releasing the belief that your value is dependent on performance.

3. Vulnerability Is Strength, Not Weakness

Many of us were raised—implicitly or explicitly—to believe that vulnerability is risky.

“Don’t cry.”
“Don’t need too much.”
“Don’t let them see you struggle.”

But Brown reframes vulnerability as the birthplace of:

• Connection

• Creativity

• Joy

• Love

Without it, we may feel protected—but we also feel disconnected.

In my work, I often remind clients:
You cannot experience deep connection while staying emotionally armored.

4. Authenticity Requires Choice (and Courage)

Living authentically isn’t just about “being yourself.” It’s about actively choosing:

• Honesty over approval

• Boundaries over burnout

• Alignment over people-pleasing

And let’s be honest—those choices are not always comfortable.

Sometimes authenticity means disappointing others.
Sometimes it means outgrowing roles that once felt safe.

But over time, it leads to something so much more sustainable:
a life that actually feels like yours.

5. Shame Thrives in Silence—Connection Heals It

Shame is the quiet voice that says:
“Something about me is wrong.”

It keeps us small. Isolated. Careful.

Brown’s research shows that shame cannot survive when it’s:

• Named

• Shared

• Met with empathy

This is why safe relationships—whether with a therapist, a friend, or a partner—matter so much.

Healing doesn’t happen in isolation.
It happens in connection.

6. Self-Compassion Changes Everything

If you take one thing from this book, let it be this:

You deserve the same kindness you offer everyone else.

And yet, most of us speak to ourselves in ways we would never speak to someone we love.

Self-compassion isn’t indulgent. It’s necessary.

It allows us to:

• Recover from mistakes more quickly

• Take emotional risks

• Build resilience (not shame-based compliance)

7. Let Go of Comparison and Scarcity Thinking

In a world of highlight reels, it’s easy to fall into the trap of:

• “They’re doing better than me”

• “I should be further along by now”

• “There’s only so much success to go around”

Brown calls this scarcity thinking—the belief that we are never enough.

But the truth is:

Comparison disconnects us from our own life.

Practicing gratitude and “enoughness” helps anchor us back into what actually matters.

8. Rest, Play, and Joy Are Not Luxuries

This is one I revisit often (and gently nudge my therapist-self about when I forget).

We tend to treat rest as something we earn after productivity.
But Brown invites us to see it differently:

• Rest is restorative—not a reward

• Play is essential—not optional

• Joy is part of resilience—not a distraction

For many of us, reclaiming these requires unlearning deeply ingrained beliefs about productivity and worth.

A Gentle Closing Reflection

If you are in a season of reevaluating your life, your relationships, or your own expectations of yourself—this work matters.

Letting go of who you think you’re supposed to be…
to become who you actually are…
isn’t easy.

But it’s worth it.

Every time.

Try This: A Small Practice in Wholehearted Living

Take a moment to reflect:

• Where am I striving for perfection instead of connection?

• Where am I abandoning myself to maintain approval?

• What would it look like to show up just 10% more authentically this week?

Small shifts create meaningful change.

If This Brings Up Something Tender…

That makes sense.

Exploring worthiness, shame, and authenticity can feel vulnerable—especially if you’ve spent a long time protecting yourself.

You don’t have to navigate that alone.

Further Reading

• Brown, B. (2010). The Gifts of Imperfection

• Brown, B. (2012). Daring Greatly

• Brown, B. (2015). Rising Strong

When There Isn’t a Clear Plan: Parenting Through the Uncertainty of High School Graduation

This article was inspired by a conversation with a client navigating something many parents silently carry this time of year.

Her child is graduating high school—but not onto a clearly defined, traditional path. There isn’t a polished answer to “What’s next?” There isn’t a neat, impressive narrative to offer at parties or in passing conversations.

And what felt stressful for her in this present moment wasn’t only her child’s path.

It was not knowing how to respond to the questions.

There is a particular kind of vulnerability that comes with parenting a high school senior.

It shows up in small, unexpected moments—like standing in a grocery store line when someone casually asks, “So where is your child going next year?” Or sitting at a graduation party where conversations seem to orbit prestige, plans, and certainty.

And suddenly, what should feel like a season of celebration starts to feel…exposed.

Because maybe your child doesn’t have a clear path yet.
Or maybe their plan is still forming, shifting, unfolding.
Or maybe their path looks quieter, less traditional, or less “high-achieving” than those around you.

And if you’re honest, that can stir something up in you, too.

Not just concern—but a subtle, creeping pressure.

When It Becomes Personal

We don’t talk enough about how much of our identity can get tangled up in our children’s milestones.

When they graduate, it can feel—whether we intend it or not—like we, too, are being evaluated.

• Did I prepare them enough?

• Did I push too hard…or not hard enough?

• What does their path say about me?

I’ve felt echoes of this myself lately.

My son just graduated 8th grade, and while I know that is a beautiful milestone in itself, I can feel the horizon shifting. High school is suddenly right in front of us. This next season—the one that ends in “what comes next”—feels closer than I am quite ready for.

And even in this earlier transition, I notice the mix of emotions:

Pride.
Excitement.
A quiet sense of time moving faster than I expected.

If I’m being honest, I’m just beginning to come to grips with how quickly we arrive at these questions as parents—how quickly we’re asked to shift from guiding a childhood to releasing toward adulthood.

The Reality of Emerging Adulthood

What we call “adulthood” has changed.

Many young adults today are:

• Exploring multiple paths before committing

• Taking time to recover from academic or emotional burnout

• Prioritizing mental health in ways previous generations weren’t allowed to

• Moving at a pace that values fit over speed

This is not failure.

It’s a different—and often healthier—developmental process.

But culturally, we still tend to celebrate certainty and prestige. We still reward quick answers and visible achievement.

And that gap between reality and expectation is where so much parental stress lives.

When the Questions Come

If you’re in this season, you know the questions:

• “Where are they going?”

• “What are they studying?”

• “What’s the plan?”

And when your answer doesn’t feel clear or socially impressive, there can be an almost immediate urge to:

Over-explain.
Justify.
Minimize.
Or reshape the answer into something more acceptable.

But your child’s life is not a performance.

And you do not owe anyone a polished version of their becoming.

How to Respond—With Grounded Confidence

Part of caring for yourself (and your child) in this season is developing responses that reflect steadiness rather than pressure.

Here are a few ways to answer that honor both the reality and the process:

Simple and Neutral

• “They’re taking some time to figure out what’s next.”

• “They’re exploring a few different directions right now.”

• “We’re not rushing the decision—we want it to be the right fit.”

Values-Based and Affirming

• “They’re being really thoughtful about their next step, and I respect that.”

• “We’ve been prioritizing their well-being and long-term success.”

• “They’re in a season of growth and exploration—it’s been good for them.”

Gentle Boundary-Setting

• “It’s still unfolding, and we’re letting them lead that process.”

• “We feel good about where they are, even if it doesn’t look traditional.”

The goal isn’t to impress.

The goal is to communicate:

There is no urgency here. This is development, not delay.

Releasing the Comparison Trap

It’s hard not to notice what other families are sharing—acceptances, plans, clear trajectories.

But comparison removes context.

It doesn’t consider:

• Your child’s personality

• Their mental health

• Their pace of development

• What they’ve navigated internally that others may not see

There is no universal timeline for adulthood.

Some paths are linear.
Some are winding.
Both can lead to meaningful, deeply fulfilling lives.

Caring for Yourself in the Uncertainty

Parents often stay focused on their child’s needs—but your emotional experience matters here, too.

You may be holding:

• Hope and fear at the same time

• Confidence in your child, alongside moments of doubt

• Pride, mixed with grief and uncertainty

This doesn’t mean something is wrong.

It means you are invested.

Some gentle anchors in this season:

• Come back to who your child is, not just what they’ve decided

• Prioritize connection over control

• Remind yourself that growth often looks messy before it looks clear

• Reach for your own support when the uncertainty feels heavy

A Different Definition of Success

What if success at graduation wasn’t defined by a perfect plan…

…but by a young adult who is:

• Still connected to themselves

• Still connected to people who are safe

• Willing to keep growing, even without certainty

And what if successful parenting, in this moment, looked like:

• Staying steady in uncertainty

• Resisting the urge to over-direct

• Trusting your child’s unfolding process

Closing Reflection

If your child’s path feels unclear…
If the questions from others feel heavier than expected…
If you find yourself trying to fill in the blanks to ease your own discomfort…

Pause.

There is courage in allowing a life to unfold.

There is wisdom in not rushing what isn’t ready.

And there is deep love in standing beside your child—not as the one who has all the answers—but as the one who trusts they will find their way.

Your Dog Is Not Your Therapist… But They Are Helping

For many people, a dog is more than a pet—they are a steady presence, a source of comfort, and a relationship that supports mental and emotional well‑being. While dogs are not a substitute for therapy or medication, research consistently shows that meaningful relationships with dogs can positively support mental health in ways that are both psychological and physiological.

As a therapist, I often see how the human–dog bond provides grounding, routine, and connection—especially for people navigating anxiety, depression, grief, trauma, burnout, or loneliness.

Below is what the science actually tells us—without romanticizing pet ownership or overselling its benefits.

"There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face."

— Ben Williams

Dogs and Emotional Regulation

One of the most well‑documented benefits of interacting with dogs is improved emotional regulation. Spending time with a dog—petting, talking, or playing—has been shown to increase oxytocin (a hormone associated with bonding and calm) while decreasing cortisol, the body’s primary stress hormone.

These physiological shifts are associated with:

• Reduced anxiety

• Improved mood

• Lower physiological stress responses

Importantly, these benefits don’t require a dog to perform tasks or “fix” anything. The calm often comes simply from safe, non‑judgmental presence.

A Therapy Room Example: How Hattie Brings Her Personality Into Healing

At our practice, we’re lucky to have Hattie—a therapy dog whose presence quietly embodies many of the mental health benefits research describes.

Hattie doesn’t perform tricks or follow a script in session. She brings her personality. And somehow, that’s exactly what people need.

She often enters the therapy room slowly, taking a moment to sniff the air as if she’s checking in with the emotional tone before deciding where to land. Sometimes she settles at a client’s feet with a dramatic sigh that gently invites everyone to exhale. Other times, when the room feels heavy or words are hard to find, she scoots closer and rests her head on a knee—grounding without interruption, offering connection without demand.

Hattie seems to sense when intensity is rising. When clients are anxious or unsure, she’ll stretch out across the floor, roll onto her back, or glance up with an expression that often leads to laughter—an organic break in tension that helps nervous systems reset. She reminds us that regulation doesn’t only happen through insight; it also happens through presence, warmth, and play.

What Hattie does best is stay. She doesn’t rush emotions or try to make them smaller. She offers steady companionship that allows people to soften, which often makes it easier to access vulnerability, self‑compassion, and reflection. In those moments, it becomes clear why research shows that dogs can support emotional regulation, reduce stress responses, and increase feelings of safety and connection.

Hattie doesn’t replace therapy—but she reinforces something essential: healing happens in relationships where we feel safe enough to be fully ourselves. Sometimes that relationship includes a dog who knows exactly when to lean in—and when to simply lie nearby and be still.

Anxiety, Depression, and Stress Buffering

Research during high‑stress periods—such as the COVID‑19 pandemic—found that dog owners reported lower depression scores and greater perceived social support compared to people who wanted dogs but did not yet own one.

Dogs appear to help buffer stress through several mechanisms:

• Providing consistent companionship

• Offering physical touch and grounding

• Interrupting rumination through engagement and routine

That said, large‑scale reviews show that dog ownership does not automatically reduce depression for everyone. Instead, benefits appear strongest when the relationship quality with the dog is high and perceived as supportive rather than burdensome.

Structure, Purpose, and Daily Rhythm

For individuals struggling with depression, ADHD, or burnout, dogs often provide gentle external structure—a reason to wake up, move the body, and engage with the day.

Daily tasks such as feeding, walking, or training a dog can:

• Increase physical activity

• Reinforce daily routines

• Restore a sense of purpose and responsibility

Research links dog ownership with increased movement and improved mood—both of which are protective for mental health.

Loneliness and Social Connection

Dogs can also act as social bridges. Dog owners often experience increased social interaction—whether through walking neighborhoods, visiting parks, or casual conversations with other dog owners.

Studies consistently associate dog companionship with reduced loneliness and improved perceived social support, particularly for individuals who live alone or are socially isolated.

Trauma, Safety, and Attachment

For some individuals—especially those with trauma histories—dogs offer a felt sense of safety that can be difficult to access in human relationships alone.

Research suggests that strong emotional bonds with dogs may correlate with lower anxiety and depression, particularly among individuals with adverse childhood experiences.

However, it’s also important to acknowledge complexity:

• Strong attachment can increase anticipatory grief

• Care demands can increase stress if resources are limited

• Dogs do not replace human relational repair or trauma therapy

Healthy benefit comes from mutual regulation, not emotional over‑reliance.

Emotional Support and Therapy Contexts

Animal‑assisted interventions—including therapy dogs—have demonstrated positive effects on mood, anxiety, and stress reduction in clinical and educational settings.

Emotional support animals (ESAs) are not service animals, but research suggests they can assist with:

• Emotional grounding

• Mood stabilization

• Decreased isolation

When integrated ethically and appropriately, animals can complement—not replace—evidence‑based mental health care.

A Balanced Clinical Perspective

Dogs can be powerful mental health companions—but they are not a universal solution. The benefits depend on:

• Individual capacity and resources

• Temperament and needs of the dog

• Support systems in place

• Relationship quality between human and animal

When the connection is mutual, supported, and sustainable, dogs can offer something deeply therapeutic: consistent presence without expectation—a quiet regulator in an overstimulated world.

References

• American Psychological Association. (2024). Pets can help reduce anxiety. [apa.org]

• Martin, F., et al. (2021). Depression, anxiety, and happiness in dog owners. PLOS ONE. [journals.plos.org]

• Moshfeghinia, R., et al. (2025). Pet ownership and risk of depression: A meta‑analysis. Annals of General Psychiatry. [pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

• Merkouri, A. M., et al. (2022). Dogs and the good life. Frontiers in Psychology. [frontiersin.org]

• Powell, A. (2024). Loving your pup may be a many‑splendored thing. Harvard Gazette. [news.harvard.edu]

• Peel, N., et al. (2023). Impact of therapy dogs on student mood. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health. [pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

• University of Utah Health. (2025). How therapy dogs support mental health. [healthcare.utah.edu]

• PositivePsychology.com. (2024). How emotional support animals promote mental health. [positiveps...hology.com]

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria and Toxic Relationships

Why Some People Are More Vulnerable to Being Used—and How Healing Begins

At Summit Family Therapy, many of our clients describe a familiar and painful pattern: “I care deeply, I try so hard, and I still end up feeling small, blamed, or disposable in relationships.”

Often, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD) is part of that story.

Not because something is wrong with you—but because your nervous system is doing exactly what it learned to do to protect you from loss of connection.

When RSD intersects with unhealthy or toxic relationship dynamics, people may stay far longer than they want to in situations that quietly erode their safety, self‑trust, and sense of worth.

What Is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD)?

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria refers to an intense emotional and physiological response to perceived or actual rejection, criticism, or disapproval. For many people with ADHD—and some autistic adults as well—this response is rapid, overwhelming, and deeply painful.

RSD is not a formal DSM diagnosis, but it is widely recognized by clinicians as a manifestation of emotional dysregulation associated with ADHD. People who experience RSD often report:

• Sudden waves of shame, panic, or emotional pain

• A strong urge to withdraw, disappear, or “fix” the situation immediately

• Over‑apologizing or people‑pleasing to restore connection

• Rumination that lingers long after the interaction ends

These reactions are neurological, not intentional. The nervous system reacts before the thinking brain has time to slow things down or evaluate context.

Why RSD Can Increase Vulnerability in Relationships

RSD does not cause toxic relationships—but it can make toxic dynamics harder to identify, tolerate safely, or leave.

Disconnection Feels Like Threat

When your nervous system experiences disconnection as danger, even subtle cues—like a delayed response or a change in tone—can activate intense distress. The emotional priority becomes repairing the connection, often before assessing whether the relationship itself is safe or reciprocal.

Self‑Blame Becomes Automatic

Many people with ADHD grew up being corrected, misunderstood, or told they were “too much” or “not enough.” Over time, this can create an internal reflex of “I must be the problem.” In unhealthy relationships, this self‑doubt is easily reinforced.

People‑Pleasing Becomes a Survival Strategy

Appeasing others, minimizing needs, or over‑functioning often develops as a way to stay connected. In toxic dynamics, these strategies can unintentionally teach others that your boundaries are flexible—while theirs are not.

Hot‑Cold Relationship Cycles Are Especially Binding

Toxic relationships often swing between closeness and withdrawal. For someone with RSD, moments of warmth feel regulating and grounding, while withdrawal feels unbearable. This can create trauma‑bonded patterns that make leaving feel emotionally or physically impossible.

How This Shows Up Across Relationship Types

RSD‑related vulnerability does not look the same in every relationship. Its impact often depends on whether the environment supports emotional safety—or quietly undermines it.

Family Relationships

In families, these patterns may include:

• Emotional inconsistency dismissed as “that’s just how we are”

• Chronic criticism masked as concern or helpfulness

• Conditional approval tied to compliance, achievement, or emotional silence

Over time, this can teach someone to suppress their needs in order to maintain belonging.

Friendships

In friendships, RSD often shows up as:

• One‑sided emotional labor

• Chronic boundary violations that go unaddressed

• Fear of naming hurt due to abandonment anxiety or fear of being “too sensitive”

Many people feel deeply connected in these friendships—but chronically unseen.

Romantic Relationships

In romantic relationships, the stakes are even higher. RSD vulnerability can be exploited through:

• Partners using ADHD or sensitivity as leverage during conflict

• Pathologizing normal emotional needs as “overreacting”

• Power imbalances that grow as self‑trust shrinks

When your internal signals are repeatedly questioned or dismissed, it becomes harder to trust yourself—and easier for unhealthy dynamics to take root.

Importantly, not all difficult relationships are toxic, and not all conflict equals abuse. Toxicity is defined by patterns, not isolated moments—especially patterns that consistently undermine safety, agency, and self‑worth.

A Critical Reframe

RSD is not the problem.

The real danger lies in environments where emotional pain is dismissed, self‑doubt is reinforced, and accountability flows in only one direction.

People with RSD often bring extraordinary empathy, loyalty, creativity, and relational attunement into their relationships. In safe relationships, those traits are strengths.
In unsafe relationships, they are exploited.

Healing Starts with Emotional Safety

At Summit Family Therapy, we help clients:

• Differentiate emotional sensitivity from emotional harm

• Rebuild trust in their perceptions and internal signals

• Learn nervous‑system‑informed boundary setting

• Heal long‑standing patterns of self‑abandonment without shame

If this article resonates with you, it may be a sign that your nervous system isn’t asking you to become less sensitive—it’s asking for safer connection.

Ready for Support?

You don’t have to untangle this alone. Working with a therapist who understands ADHD, RSD, and relational trauma can be a powerful step toward healthier, more secure relationships.

References & Further Reading

• Dodson, W. W., et al. (2024). Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria in ADHD: A Case Series. Acta Scientific Neurology.

• Kahn, G. (2026). Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria: The Actual Research. Psychology Today.

• Rowney‑Smith, A., et al. (2026). The lived experience of rejection sensitivity in ADHD. PLOS ONE.

• Guy‑Evans, O. (2025). ADHD and Toxic Relationships. Simply Psychology.

• Sarkis, S. (2025). Why Toxic Relationships Swallow People with ADHD. ADDitude Magazine.

Mother’s Day: Holding the Joy and the Ache

Mother’s Day is often wrapped in images of brunches, flowers, smiling families, and gratitude. For some, this day genuinely feels warm and celebratory. But for many others, Mother’s Day carries a quieter, more complicated emotional reality.

Grief.
Longing.
Ambivalence.
Tenderness.

As a therapist—and as a human—I want to say this clearly:

It makes sense if Mother’s Day brings mixed feelings.

For me, it does.

I lost my mother to an aggressive breast cancer in 2016. She was taken too quickly, and even years later, Mother’s Day can still catch me off guard. I miss her voice. I miss being able to call her. I miss watching her be a grandmother to my children in the way she deserved to be.

And at the same time, I am deeply grateful to be a mother.

Both are true.

That coexistence—gratitude and grief sharing the same space—is something our culture rarely makes room for. We tend to frame Mother’s Day as something you’re either celebrating or surviving, but for many of us, it’s both.

When Mother’s Day Is Complicated

Mother’s Day can be especially difficult if you are:

• Grieving the loss of your mother

• Navigating a painful, distant, or unsafe relationship with your mother

• Longing to be a parent while facing infertility

• Grieving miscarriage, stillbirth, or pregnancy loss

• Living with the unimaginable pain of losing a child

• Parenting while carrying grief, exhaustion, burnout, or ambivalence you don’t feel allowed to name

For many, this grief is invisible. It doesn’t come with recognition or rituals. It exists quietly alongside functioning, caretaking, and managing everyday life. This kind of grief can feel isolating—not because it isn’t real, but because it isn’t always acknowledged.

Honoring What Was, While Living What Is

Over time, I’ve learned that honoring my mother doesn’t mean trying to recreate what was lost—or pretending the loss didn’t happen. Instead, I try to carry the best parts of her forward with my kids.

Her warmth.
Her humor.
Her deep care for people.

In that way, the relationship didn’t end—it changed. Love didn’t disappear. It found a new place to live.

Grief doesn’t mean we stop living. And living fully doesn’t mean we stop grieving.

Grief Is Not a Failure of Gratitude

Feeling grief on Mother’s Day does not mean:

• You are ungrateful

• You don’t love your children

• You loved your mother “too much”

• You’re stuck or doing healing wrong

Grief simply means something mattered deeply.

Love and loss are not opposites. In many ways, grief is love continuing after loss.

Gentle Self‑Care for Mother’s Day

If this day feels heavy, here are a few trauma‑informed ways to care for yourself:

✔ Let mixed emotions exist.
Joy, sadness, gratitude, anger, numbness—they can all coexist. You don’t have to choose one.

✔ Set boundaries without explanation.
You are allowed to opt out of plans, conversations, posts, or traditions that feel harmful.

✔ Redefine the day.
Mother’s Day does not have to look traditional or performative. You get to decide what feels supportive.

✔ Limit social media if needed.
Scrolling can amplify comparison and grief. Protect your nervous system.

✔ Practice self‑compassion.
Talk to yourself the way you would to a dear friend carrying loss.

✔ Stay connected to safe people.
Grief was never meant to be carried alone—even quiet companionship counts.

Preparing for Loss Dates and Traumaversaries

One thing I often remind both my clients—and myself—is that hard dates are easier when we prepare for them.

Loss anniversaries, diagnosis dates, death anniversaries, Mother’s Day, birthdays, and holidays can function as traumaversaries—times when the body and nervous system remember, even if we think we’re “fine.” Sometimes the emotional wave arrives days or weeks before the date itself.

Preparation isn’t about bracing for impact. It’s about meeting yourself with intention instead of surprise.

If you’re approaching a difficult date, consider:

• Naming it ahead of time
  “This is a tender season for me.” Simply acknowledging this can reduce shame and confusion when emotions surface.

• Lowering expectations on purpose
  Energy, productivity, and emotional bandwidth may dip. That’s not failure—it’s grief being honest.

• Planning extra support
  Schedule therapy, ask a trusted person to check in, or choose not to be alone if isolation worsens pain.

• Creating a grounding ritual
  Light a candle, write a letter, take a grounding walk, listen to familiar music. Rituals help contain grief rather than letting it overwhelm.

• Caring for the body, not just the mind
  Trauma often shows up physically. Rest, hydration, gentle movement, and predictability matter more than insight on these days.

And just as important—notice when the date passes. Many people experience an emotional drop afterward, when the nervous system finally exhales. That, too, is normal.

Grief doesn’t follow the calendar neatly. Preparing doesn’t make it painless—but it can make it feel less disorienting and less lonely.

A Closing Reflection

Mother’s Day can hold gratitude and grief.
Love and loss.
Presence and longing.

If today is joyful for you, I hope it’s deeply nourishing.
If today is painful, I hope you feel less alone.
And if today is both, I hope you know—you’re not broken.

I carry my mother with me every day.
And I honor her by loving my children the way she loved me.

Both can be true.