The time has come. For some of our college kids, it’s move-in day. For others, it’s already begun — pre-season sports, Greek life rush, leadership training. Even for me, as a mom, it’s a season that brings a swirl of emotions.

On one hand, I’m excited and ready for my boys to step into this next chapter. I know the growth that’s ahead for them — and for me. On the other hand, I can’t ignore the deep pit in my stomach that whispers, this will change us.

Lately, with my teen clients, I’ve been talking a lot about the idea that life has to be hard sometimes — because that’s where the growth happens. For an athlete, pre-season is the perfect example. It’s grueling. The heat. The two-a-days. The physical exhaustion layered with the mental drain of new plays, new teammates, new coaches, and no real downtime to catch your breath.

There are moments that sit on your heart for years, waiting for the right time to become real. And this week, one of those moments finally came to life.

My friend and I checked something off our bucket list that we’ve been talking about for over three years—we attended an Abraham Hicks workshop in Philadelphia!

If you’ve never heard of Abraham Hicks, she’s known as the queen of Law of Attraction. Her teachings are all about tuning into your thoughts, energy, and inner knowing to create a life that feels aligned and joyful. My first coach introduced me to her years ago, at a time when I desperately needed a mindset shift. Ever since, her voice and guidance have been a powerful presence in my life.

So to finally be in the room with her energy—live—was something special.

We had no idea what to expect, but we showed up open-hearted and ready for whatever the day had in store. From the moment we walked in, we felt it. The energy. The buzz. The lightness in the room. We kept catching ourselves smiling, like our faces forgot how to do anything else.

Have you ever found yourself wondering why your teen seems to cycle through friend groups—always starting hopeful, but somehow ending up alone or on the outside looking in?

Maybe they keep landing in the "mean group" and eventually get pushed out. Maybe they're the ones doing the pushing. Or maybe they just seem to give up on friendships altogether. As a parent, it's easy to assume it's just teen drama, but what if there’s more going on beneath the surface?

Sometimes, teens sabotage friendships without even realizing it. And while the behavior might look like moodiness, ghosting, gossip, or drama—it could actually be a sign of something deeper: not feeling comfortable in their own skin or not feeling worthy of being treated well.

When You Don’t Feel Worthy, You Settle for Less

If a teen doesn’t believe they deserve kindness or acceptance, they’ll gravitate toward relationships that reinforce those beliefs. That might mean staying close to people who are controlling, critical, or emotionally distant. It might mean keeping others at arm's length out of fear they’ll leave anyway. Or it might look like lashing out first—before someone else gets the chance.

I used to think perfectionism looked like a straight-A student or someone who always had it all together. But the truth is—perfectionism wears more than one face. And I know this, not just because I see it in the teens I coach… but because I’ve lived it myself.

Most of my life, I was a classic high achiever. I poured myself into sports and work—I loved excelling and being seen as “driven.” But there was another side to me too, one I didn’t talk about. I’d completely shut down in certain areas of my life. If a class didn’t feel worth my time (or if I secretly felt I might not be great at it), I’d check out. If I was anxious about saying the wrong thing, I wouldn’t start the conversation at all.

I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t unmotivated. I was scared—scared of failing, of being judged, of not measuring up.

Two Faces of Perfectionism

I now see both versions show up in our teens:

The High Achiever
This is the teen who looks like they’ve got it all together—honors classes, varsity sports, leadership roles. But underneath is often anxiety, pressure, and a fear that any slip-up makes them “less than.”

The Teen Who Shuts Down
This teen avoids trying altogether. They might say they don’t care, but often it’s the opposite—they care so much that the risk of failing is paralyzing. It feels safer not to try than to try and fall short.

And sometimes? Our teens are both. Just like I was. High-performing in some areas, frozen in others.

There’s this quiet pressure that many of us parents carry—especially as our kids become teens. We want to show up “strong.” We want to have the answers. We want to be the steady one when the teenage waves roll in. But sometimes, in trying to be the perfect parent, we end up hiding our most powerful gift: our real selves.

Your teen doesn’t need a polished, always-positive, never-shaken version of you.

They need you.

The real you. The one who sometimes struggles, the one who worries, the one who’s learning right alongside them.

When you open up, even just a little, you create space for your teen to do the same. You model that being real is safe. That vulnerability is not weakness—but connection.

It takes courage to show up as who you really are. It’s a daily practice and a lifelong quest. One risk, one real moment at a time.

But here's the good news: the path to love and connection is to reveal the real.

One of the most powerful truths we can teach our teens is this:
We can only feel truly loved when we’re being our true selves.

As parents, we want our kids to feel loved, safe, and accepted. But in a world full of pressure to perform, fit in, and meet expectations, our teens often end up hiding parts of themselves just to feel "good enough." And sometimes, if we’re honest, we unintentionally reinforce that pattern.

Maybe it’s in the way we celebrate their achievements more than their efforts. Or how we try to protect them from making mistakes by steering them toward what feels “safe.” It’s all well-intentioned—but it can send the message that love is tied to performance, behavior, or success.

And that leaves them asking a painful question:
“Would they still love me if they saw the real me?”

Let’s be real: the words self-care and self-love are everywhere right now. And while they sound similar—and are often used interchangeably—they're not the same. Especially for parents and teens navigating the emotional rollercoaster of adolescence (and parenting), understanding the difference can be a game-changer.

Teens are watching how we care for ourselves and how we talk to ourselves. If we run ourselves ragged and only prioritize “doing” without the deeper belief that we are worthy of care, they notice. And if we constantly criticize ourselves, they notice that too (believe me, my daughter called me out on this recently).

The other day, I made a silly mistake—nothing major, just one of those moments where you shake your head at yourself. Without thinking, I muttered, “Ugh, I’m so stupid,” under my breath. I didn’t even realize I’d said it out loud until my daughter looked at me and said, “Mom, why are you being so mean to yourself?”

Her words stopped me in my tracks. I always encourage her to be kind to herself, to practice self-care and self-love. But here I was, modeling the exact opposite. It was an eye-opening moment—I hadn’t even noticed how harsh I was being with myself.

It made me realize that self-care isn’t just about bubble baths or taking breaks. True self-love is about how we talk to ourselves, especially when we mess up. Our teens are watching and listening, even when we think they aren’t.

June feels like a whirlwind, doesn't it? The end-of-school chaos is real — the kind that fills the calendar, clutters the kitchen counter with invitations, diplomas, and college paperwork, and fills your heart with a tangled mix of pride, awe, and...something else you can’t quite name.

This year feels especially big. Two of mine are heading off to college in the fall. Huge milestones. Life-changing transitions. For them and for me.

It’s the kind of season that makes you pause in the middle of folding laundry or cleaning out the car and think: How did we get here so fast? It’s beautiful, it’s messy, it’s emotional. It’s the happy chaos of letting go a little — or maybe a lot — and stepping into a new phase of parenting.

And here’s the truth I keep coming back to: parenting starts to look different now. It’s less about managing the day-to-day and more about holding space. It’s less “do your homework” and more “I’m here if you need to talk.” It’s watching them take the reins, stumble, thrive, and figure out who they are out in the world.

Raising teens can stretch you like nothing else. One minute you’re answering deep life questions over late-night snacks, the next you’re trying not to lose it over eye rolls and slammed doors. It’s intense, raw, and beautiful—and it has a way of bringing your own stuff to the surface.

That’s why one of the greatest gifts we can give our kids—especially our teens—is our own healing.

Yes, the practical things matter: being involved, setting boundaries, driving them to practice, helping with homework. But underneath it all, the way we show up emotionally and mentally creates the atmosphere they grow up in.

When we do the work to heal—whether that’s addressing old wounds from our own childhoods, working through anxiety or perfectionism, or breaking free from unhelpful patterns—we stop handing our pain down. We give our kids a better version of us.

For me, one of the patterns I had to confront was my tendency to go silent when I was upset. I thought I was being calm, maybe even mature, by not saying anything in the heat of the moment. But what I’ve come to realize is that silence can feel like disconnection—and that disconnection can be just as loud as yelling.