What if nothing is "wrong" with your child?

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Adults are natural pattern seekers and problem solvers. We look for patterns because they help us make sense of uncertainty and give us language for experiences that bring suffering. When a child struggles, it's only natural to search for certainty in a sea of suffering. Sometimes that search leads to a diagnosis.

While diagnoses can bring relief, provide direction, and help families and educators better support a child, they can also become the lens through which that child is seen. Over time, the diagnosis can become the most recognizable part of their identity, making it harder to see everything else that makes them who they are. It can even create the illusion that the search is over, when in reality you're still getting to know your child.

Their story is still unfolding

I believe we all come into this world with a unique life path. Before we're ever given a name, a report card, or a diagnosis, we already possess a personality, a temperament, a particular way of experiencing the world, and a unique collection of strengths and challenges that will shape the people we become.

Whether you believe those experiences are chosen by the soul before we're born, guided by God, or simply part of the mystery of being human, every child is living a story that is entirely their own, which reveals itself over time as their interests develop and their confidence grows. Which is why I think it's important to remain curious, even after a diagnosis because while it can deepen our understanding of a child, it shouldn't stop us from remaining curiosity about who they are or from noticing as they continue to unfold before us.

The limits of psychology

Psychology has given us extraordinary tools for understanding children, and I'm deeply grateful for them. Diagnoses have transformed lives, opened doors to support, and helped countless families make sense of experiences that once felt confusing.

However, the challenge begins when a diagnosis slowly becomes a child's identity instead of one part of their story. It's my hope, that we all begin to ask another question on our quest to help them:

Who is this child beyond their struggles?

When we look at them, can we see the child underneath who laughs until their stomach hurts, notices details everyone else misses, asks questions no one else thinks to ask, loves deeply, worries deeply, and experiences the world in a way that has never existed before and never will again?

That's the child I hope we never stop discovering.

And maybe what I hope more than anything is for us to look at their imperfections and see our own reflected back, which serve as invitations to pause, to look inward, to meet ourselves with the same grace we're trying to offer them. Every time they push against our limits, a doorway opens — an invitation to grow a little wider, soften a little more, love a little less conditionally than we did the day before.

Because in learning to accept them exactly as they show up, we often find ourselves finally accepting the parts of us we've been trying to outrun all along.

Keep exploring

If this blog sparked your curiosity, you might enjoy:

• Uniquely Human by Barry M. Prizant

• Beyond Behaviors by Mona Delahooke

• Different, Not Less by Chloé Hayden

• My previous blog: The Evidence Children Collect About Themselves

• Spend ten uninterrupted minutes this week simply noticing your child—what captures their attention, brings them joy, frustrates them, and what surprises you.