It's time to give up on 'fixing' our children
Oct 17, 2023

Our founder Suzanne reflects on why sometimes, you have to stop fixing and start feeling.

Fixing. The preserve of the best of parents. From grazed knees to grades and everything in between, it’s what we do. It’s a key part of the job description. We make it all ok. We fix stuff. It shows we’re present, caring and in control…doesn’t it? 


When your child’s mental health declines, the desire to fix grows in strength, often to the point of being overwhelmed. If you can just work out what you’re facing and where it came from and then wrestle it into a nice, neat box, you can stop your child’s pain, pretend it didn’t happen and get back on the path you expected.


Phew. Glad that’s all sorted. 


Sadly, from my experiences parenting my daughter through depression, anxiety, self-harm and suicide attempts, I know that this kind of simplicity simply doesn’t play out. There are some things we can’t fix, and I can see now with hindsight, that my multiple attempts at being the fixer, in the name of love, actually made things worse.


Not even a little bit positive. Or neutral. Worse. 


My daughter felt invalidated, as if she were simply a problem to solve, and that I was overlooking her experience to make things right at any cost. I felt like a failure, for not fixing this horrific situation like a ‘good parent’ would. But before you head into the reverie that I found myself in; questioning your parenting credentials as a failing fixer, let’s pause for a moment and consider a little-known fact, often overlooked:


There are some experiences in life - and in parenting - that simply have to be felt, not fixed, however hard that is to go through or to watch.


When we see our child struggle with anything, we tend to feel compelled to fix it. It hits the huge red button within us that activates the emergency fixer mindset; the one that doesn’t want to see our child suffer, often as we did, or to face the challenges that we faced and don’t want them to have to endure. 


Not only does it take over a significant chunk of our conscious thought, but it becomes a challenge, a cause, a cry that demands we focus all our efforts and energy on. It grades our performance in parenting and keeps us and our child stuck. 


The more stressed and focussed on 'fixing' I became, the more distant my daughter was and the worse I felt - both about what she was feeling and my inability to help her. Not only was I making her feel worse, I was keeping myself stuck in a loop where the harder I tried, the worse everyone felt. I had inadvertently started a stress cycle that couldn’t be completed. Its only job was to perpetuate disconnection and disappointment and bring stress, distress and anxiety. 


While everything I did came from a place of love, it was actually fuelled by fear:

  • Fear of why we got here and where we might be going. 
  • Fear of my capability to cope. 
  • Fear of the future (that hadn’t happened yet)
  • Fear of the present (that I wasn't really present in because I was consumed by the future that hadn’t happened yet!) 


I saw my love and she felt my fear. 


Something had to change. And it had to be me. I told myself, “You can’t fix this. It’s not your job.” It’s a harsh reality to face that you can’t fix this and make it all ok for your child. Because, even though they’re going through some challenging and painful situations, it’s their life, not yours. But I’m a parent, I hear you cry! If I can’t fix it, if it’s not my job, what is my job? What can I do? Well, the great news is lots! 


3 things to consider when moving away from 'fix' it: 


Feel the fear! 

If, like me, your fear is the first thing your child feels, it will be hard for them to feel emotionally safe and open up to you, so taking care of your emotions is key. And it may be something you’re not used to; so many of us weren’t brought up in emotionally literate homes where feelings were allowed. This adversity is a chance for us to change that for our children. 


The fixer mindset is borne from love, but driven by fear. So, when we try and fix, not only do we invalidate our child, but we place ourselves in a cycle that can only be completed when we get the finite outcome we demand. This activates a stress cycle within our body that can lead to excess anxiety and often (over)reaction rather than release we hope our fixing will do. We deserve to find ways to complete these cycles otherwise we end up in burnout - and believe me, vicarious trauma and caregiver burnout are real and take time and commitment to heal from.


The reality for so many of us is that we can’t escape from this experience completely unscathed, but we can minimise the impacts on us. If you can take care of your emotional needs - maybe through therapeutic support (you don’t need a diagnosis of anything to access counselling), making sure you can take time away from your child to be a person, not a parent, and building your emotional capacity through routines and rituals that build your window of tolerance and counter the trauma we face through the many layers of this experience - you are indirectly taking care of your child’s too. It’s not selfish to take care of you. It’s a gift for your whole family. 


And even though we may not see the experiences that have to be felt, not fixed, as positive, they can add to our relationships and understanding of ourselves and our child. Ask yourself: 

  • What might your desire to 'fix' be showing you? 
  • How can you show love to yourself to build your capacity? 
  • What are you fearful of? 


Really listen 

I’m not proud of it, but I recall spending more time in the early stages of Issy’s illness justifying my fear through my feelings, rather than listening to her and what she needed. I’ve apologised many times since, but I understand why I did it. The fear within was deep and dark and I was truly scared of what we faced. I felt alone and afraid and I wasn’t sure if I had it within me to help her through. 


But listening - really listening - to her was one of the greatest gifts I could give her. It’s hard to hear someone’s pain, but it is an absolute privilege to bear witness to it. And over time, I got to know the signs and signals that allowed me to respond to her needs, not react to my fear. It gave her a safe space to express herself, to reduce the sense of shame we felt about what was going on, and a sense of being seen, heard and understood. 


But this demands we have capacity. We may need to be heard in order to build our own listening skills. We might need to question where our fears come from so we can allow ourselves to hear what our child says. We might need to make choices that change the life we know.  Ask yourself: 

  •  Are you listening to respond, or to understand? 
  • What might you need to say? 
  • What are you afraid to hear? 
  • Have you ever been heard? 


Be curious 

Curiosity is a great alternative to judgment and fixing, as judging can fuel our fears - about our child, what’s right, what’s not, and what we should do. 


When we’re curious, we can’t judge. It can give us the breathing space to not have to fix everything, right now. And in the space where we are open to something new, there may be an alternative we haven’t considered:

  • We can be curious, without fixing, and still be responsible, loving parents. 
  • We can not know the very best course of action and still be responsible, loving parents.
  • We can not own our child’s experience and feelings, and still be responsible, loving parents.


Ask yourself: 

  • Where is the compulsion to fix coming from? Love or fear? 
  • What might happen if I don’t fix this? 
  • What judgements are you making about yourself or about what is needed? 
  • Are they true? Helpful? 


Our Partnering not Parenting course explores these thoughts in more detail. You can access a free, bite-sized video version of the course here. Alternatively, the full course details are here. Suzanne is also the best-selling author of Never Let Go - How to Parent Your Child through Mental Illness, which can be purchased here.


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