Helping Our Children and Ourselves Stay With the Hard Things

The other day, my son came to us feeling heavy. He had recently started learning to play the guitar something he genuinely wanted and was excited about. But even though he loved the idea of playing, he was struggling to practice consistently. And that inconsistency triggered something deeper than frustration. If I really love guitar, why am I not practicing? What’s wrong with me? Why do I keep avoiding something I actually want?

His self-talk had started to spiral into shame. And like so many of us, he began to turn that shame inward maybe I'm just lazy, not disciplined enough, not good enough. Something that brought him joy was now tangled in self-doubt. When he shared all of this with us openly, vulnerably we were at a crossroads as parents. We could have made it easier and let him step away. We could have taken his discomfort as a sign that this wasn’t the right thing for him, or that he needed a break. Honestly, a part of me wanted to. Not because I didn’t care but because watching your child wrestle with their feelings can stir up your own.

And that’s when I felt it my own discomfort. Not about the guitar, but about his discomfort. The part of me that wants to rescue, smooth things over, keep things light and easy. The part of me that still remembers how it felt to be stuck in my own self-doubt as a child, and how lonely that place can feel. And underneath that? A younger version of me who learned to equate struggle with failure.

In that moment, I had to pause and take a breath not just for him, but for me. Because this wasn’t just about him learning to navigate discomfort. It was about me learning to stay with my own.

Discomfort as a Mirror

Parenting has a way of holding up a mirror to the parts of us still healing. My son’s experience reminded me of all the times I’ve wrestled with the same inner tension: I want this… so why am I avoiding it? Whether it's a creative dream, a meaningful relationship, or even showing up as the parent I want to be I've felt the friction between desire and fear. Between knowing what matters and struggling to follow through. And when that friction comes up in our kids, it can hit something deep inside us. This is where the work is.

We had a choice that day. We could frame his struggle as a sign to step back or we could help him see that it was a signpost, pointing to growth. We could teach him that discomfort isn’t the enemy it’s the invitation. We told him the truth: that struggling doesn’t mean he’s failing. That even adults wrestle with resistance. That feeling stuck or self-critical doesn’t mean give up it means pay attention. Be curious. Stay. And in doing that, we weren’t just guiding him we were also healing something in ourselves.

Reflections for the Adult Reading This

If you’re a parent, or simply someone trying to show up differently in your own life, I invite you to reflect on this:

• What’s my relationship to discomfort?

• When I feel resistance, what do I usually do push through, shut down, numb out, give up?

• When my child is struggling, what does it stir in me? A need to fix? A fear I’m failing?

• Am I able to stay with their discomfort without rushing to remove it because I’ve learned how to stay with my own?

These moments with our children are never just about them. They are also invitations for us to notice our patterns, to befriend the discomfort we may have been running from for years, and to model something new.

What Our Children and We Can Learn

We told our son: this is part of it. Liking something doesn’t mean it’s always easy. There will be moments of doubt, resistance, even shame. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong or that you’re wrong. It just means you're learning how to grow through something real.

That message isn’t just for him. It’s for me. And maybe, it’s for you too.

Because learning to stay with ourselves when it’s uncomfortable, messy, unclear is a lifelong lesson. But every time we pause, breathe, and meet that discomfort with compassion, we’re rewriting a story. One where our children don’t have to carry the weight of perfection. One where we don’t either.

final thoughts

So much of parenting is about unlearning what we absorbed in silence rewriting what it means to be human in front of our kids. When we teach our children that discomfort is not a dead end but a doorway, we give them something far more important than ease.

We give them resilience. We give them permission to be messy and still worthy. We give them the tools to stay.

And maybe, just maybe, we give that to ourselves too.