Why Teens Thrive in Simplicity
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a parent say something like:
“They just seem unmotivated lately.”
“They’re not following through with things anymore.”
“They used to love soccer (or football, or honors classes)... but now they just don’t care.”
”They seem really lazy and unmotivated lately.”
While it’s difficult to say there’s one thing underlying every situation, what I often see underneath that “lack of motivation” is burnout.
A lot of my teen clients are overwhelmed — not because they’re doing nothing, but because they’re trying to do everything. Sometimes they’re even being asked, or expected, to do everything. School, sports, jobs, family, social pressure, and the constant buzz of technology. Add the internal work of growing up — figuring out who you are, what you value, and where you belong — and it’s a lot.
The nervous system isn’t built for constant stimulation. When teens are over-scheduled and overstimulated, they start to shut down. They disconnect. Not because they don’t care — but because they don’t have space to feel anymore. With too many things on their schedule, their nervous system is like an engine that is constantly running, which typically ends up overheating and shutting down.
Why Simplicity Matters
Over the years, I’ve had many parents misinterpret what simplifying means, and some have even gone to the other extreme of having no expectations of their children. Simplifying is finding that middle ground. Simplifying your teen’s world doesn’t mean lowering the bar. It means giving them breathing room to discover who they are without all the noise.
When life slows down a little, teens:
Recover from chronic stress and burnout
Reconnect with themselves (and with you)
Build resilience, creativity, and self-awareness
Presence — not pressure — is what fuels growth.
Simple Ways to Create Simplicity
Here are a few ways I help families bring this to life in my parent program and sessions:
1. Limit Over-Scheduling
Encourage your teen to focus on 1–2 meaningful commitments instead of trying to do it all. You can model this too — when teens see you create balance, they start to believe they can, too.
Ask together: “What can we let go of this semester that will create breathing room?”
2. Create Digital Boundaries
Phones and screens aren’t the enemy — but constant use keeps the nervous system on high alert. Try one new boundary at a time: phone-free meals, turning off notifications, or a shared “quiet hour.”
3. Build Family Simplicity Rituals
Weekly walks, Sunday dinners, game nights, or even quiet time together — reading, journaling, or just sitting outside. Not every moment needs to be a “teachable” one. Sometimes connection looks like just being there.
4. Make Space for Rest and Boredom
Downtime is where creativity and emotional regulation live. Resist the urge to fill every open block of time. “Nothing” can be part of the plan. Boredom doesn't necessarily mean your children are lazy, and having nothing scheduled for them doesn’t reflect poorly on your ability to parent.
For Parents, Too
Simplicity isn’t just for your teen — it’s also for you.
When you slow down, you model nervous system regulation. You create room to respond, not react.
Journal prompt: What’s one area of your life (work, home, digital, or social) that feels cluttered? What would simplifying look like there?
A Final Thought
Teens don’t thrive because they’re doing more — they thrive because they feel seen, supported, and safe.
Simplifying your family’s rhythm is one of the most powerful ways to make that happen.
If this resonates, Chapter 11 of my Parent Reset Workbook dives deeper into this — with prompts, practices, and scripts you can start using right away.
👉 Learn more or grab your copy here.
The Power of Stepping Into Your Child’s World
Why Listening Matters More Than Fixing
Several years ago while working in a residential boys treatment center, a client asked me if I had ever heard of World of Warcraft. I replied that I had, indeed, heard of this game, to which he asked if I had ever played. I responded by telling him that I had never played, but that it looked like it might be fun. He kept pressing, and asked if I wanted to learn about it. Without even thinking, I answered his question with a, “Sure. Why not?” Next, I watched as he pulled his giant World of Warcraft guidebook out, that looked a little bit smaller than one of those old phone books they used to dump on your front porch.
I didn’t know that I would still be sitting there two hours later, listening to him verbally dump every detail of World of Warcraft into my ears — and I mean every detail — every level, character, and plot twist. I didn’t understand half of what he was saying. But that wasn’t the point.
The point was connection.
So often, we as parents or adults expect our kids to engage with our world — to listen to our advice, care about our concerns, and meet our expectations. But when was the last time we truly stepped into their world?
For kids and teens, the things that matter most might not make sense to us. It might be a game, a show, a friendship, music, or a creative interest that seems small or confusing from the outside. Yet when we take the time to ask questions, listen, and let them teach us something — even for ten minutes — we’re showing them something powerful:
“You matter. Your world matters to me.”
That kind of attention communicates love and safety more than any lecture ever could. It builds trust, softens defensiveness, and opens the door to real conversations later on — the ones that actually matter.
The Parenting Shift: From Control to Curiosity
This doesn’t mean you have to become an expert in their interests. It means you get curious.
Ask open-ended questions like: “What do you like most about that?” or “What makes that game/show/song interesting to you?”
Let them teach you something. Teens especially light up when they feel competent and respected.
Notice how the tone of your relationship changes when the focus shifts from fixing to understanding.
When you start showing up this way, something else happens too — your kids begin to mirror that same curiosity and respect back to you.
Try This: The 10-Minute Rule
Set aside ten minutes a day (or a few times a week) to enter your child’s world with no agenda. No lessons. No corrections. Just curiosity.
You might be surprised at what unfolds when connection becomes the goal.
This reflection comes from my new workbook and parent program, “The Parent Reset.”
It’s built for parents who want to stop overthinking, start connecting, and create calm, confident relationships at home.
👉 Learn more and download the workbook here!
Trauma Isn’t Always One Big Event
It all begins with an idea.
Redefining Trauma Beyond the Catastrophic:
When most people hear the word “trauma,” they think of something catastrophic: an accident, an assault, a natural disaster. Something sudden and severe — a moment that splits life into before and after.
But for many of us, trauma doesn’t arrive in a single, dramatic event.
It arrives slowly. Quietly. Over time.
In the repeated moments when our emotions were met with blank stares or harsh judgment.
In the should haves and what ifs.
In the subtle but chronic ways we were told to tone it down, toughen up, or stop crying.
In the feeling that we had to earn love by being easy, helpful, performative, or impressive.
This kind of trauma doesn’t always leave obvious scars.
But it lives in the body.
It shapes the nervous system.
It teaches us what parts of ourselves are safe to show — and which must be hidden.
Sometimes, the wound wasn’t what happened — it was what didn’t.
We weren’t held.
We weren’t seen.
We weren’t listened to or validated.
We weren’t allowed to fully exist in the messy, beautiful complexity of our emotions.
These are the invisible forms of trauma — the kind that don’t make headlines, but still make homes in our bodies.
The kind that show up years later as anxiety, disconnection, people-pleasing, or a deep sense that something’s missing… but we can’t quite name it.
So what is trauma, really?
Trauma isn’t the thing that happened.
It’s what happened inside us as a result.
It’s the overwhelm our system couldn’t fully process.
It’s the narrative we live by as a result.
It’s the adaptive patterns we developed to stay safe — emotionally, physically, relationally.
And those adaptations were wise. They helped us survive.
But they’re not always meant to last forever.
Healing starts when we stop minimizing our pain just because it doesn’t look “big enough.”
When we stop denying that we need to heal by telling ourselves that our pain isn’t as bad as theirs, so we keep pushing through.
When we begin to understand that trauma isn’t about comparison — it’s about impact.
And when we gently, patiently begin listening to the parts of ourselves we once had to silence.