Blog
“Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.”
-Benjamin Franklin
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) in kids and teens is often misunderstood and frequently missed. Many parents expect OCD to look like constant handwashing or visible rituals. In reality, OCD in young people can be subtle, internal, and easy to confuse with perfectionism, anxiety, or even typical childhood habits.
Is this just perfectionism, or could this be OCD? Perfectionism and obsessive-compulsive patterns can look similar on the surface, especially when behaviors are internal rather than visible. Understanding the difference isn’t about labeling yourself—it’s about understanding what’s driving your distress and what kind of support might actually help.
Being the “responsible child” can shape a person’s entire life story. Many adults only realize years later that the traits they’re praised for—being reliable, selfless, and strong—grew out of a childhood where they never really got to be a kid. This pattern, often called parentification, can create deep strengths and equally deep exhaustion, anxiety, and loneliness in adulthood.
Most parents don’t wake up one morning thinking, “I should put my child in therapy.”
More often, the thought creeps in quietly. If you’ve found yourself asking whether therapy might help your child, you’re not alone. Many parents wrestle with this question, unsure of where the line falls between typical development and a signal that extra support could be beneficial.
Religion and spirituality can offer meaning, structure, and community. For many people, they are woven into family traditions, identity, and daily life. Yet for others, these same spaces have become sources of fear, guilt, or control. When belief systems are used to silence questions, enforce obedience, or shame parts of who you are, the impact can linger long after you step away.
Parentification can happen in quiet, everyday ways, and most adults don’t even realize they’re doing it. Many children live in a world where they’re expected to act like the emotional anchor, the helper, the peacekeeper, or the tiny adult who fills in whatever family gap needs filling. And because it’s framed as “being mature,” “being helpful,” or “being well-behaved,” the damage stays hidden.
There’s a common image of the “strong man” in our culture. He’s dependable, hard-working, always ready to provide for others, and never one to complain. On the surface, this expectation sounds admirable. But behind closed doors, many men quietly carry overwhelming stress, hidden grief, relationship tension, or feelings of loneliness that they’ve been taught to bury.
Hearing the words “your child is on the autism spectrum” can stir up a flood of emotions. For some parents, the diagnosis feels like a relief because it puts a name to challenges they’ve noticed for years. For others, it brings grief, worry, or uncertainty about the future. You might be wondering what this means for your child’s development, schooling, friendships, and independence.
Grief doesn’t always follow neat rules. Sometimes we find ourselves mourning someone we never had the chance to know. A celebrity who shaped our childhood, a public figure who inspired us, or even the child we hoped for but never held. The loss feels real, yet it can be hard to explain—to ourselves or to others.
