Part 1: The the Doors We Couldn’t Walk Through - School Avoidance

I am sitting in a beautiful, luxurious spot in Mexico during spring break when an email pops into my inbox from Kristy Forbes. The subject line is a blog post titled “I want to try school again…” I stare at the email for a moment before opening it, already fighting back tears, unsure if I can handle what’s inside.

That sentence — I want to try school again — is one I have heard in our own house, and hearing it still feels triggering. And I am a therapist.

There was a period of time where everyone in our house desperately wanted school to work. Not just me — all of us. We tried everything, or at least it felt like everything. Maybe it was the teacher? Maybe we needed a different school. Maybe medication would help. Maybe we just needed the right school counsellor, the right support person, the right plan, the right year. We kept thinking the next change would be the one that fixed it. The one that made school possible. But time and time again, the system that is supposed to support kids and families felt like it was failing us. And with every failed plan, every meeting, every new strategy that didn’t work, it slowly wears you down. Not because you didn’t care, but because you cared so much that somewhere along the way, you lost parts of your own life in it. Pulling your child from school was the only option, and relief followed.

And then, once they had a break from the chaos, the trauma, the demands, the pressure — after some time to recover — they would quietly say, “I want to try school again…” And your heart would break, and fill with hope at the exact same time.

As I read the post, blinking through tears, I could identify with it so clearly. The feeling of moving mountains quietly in the background while managing school burnout, advocacy, judgment, and the constant need to remind yourself: They can’t do it. It’s not that they don’t want to - it’s that they cannot.

This is something I tell parents all the time in my practice: Kids do well - when they can. And yet, when it’s your own child, it’s so much harder to hold onto that truth.

And, when can they or will they be able to "do school"?

School has been a challenge for our family. It is only now, during a school break and with a bit of distance and nuggets of hope, that I feel like I can even begin to write about our journey, and its been a long one!

Recently, during an advanced autism training, the instructor said something that stopped me in my tracks: You should not carry a dysregulated child into elementary school and then leave them there. I remember thinking — What? Where was this information a decade ago when I was doing exactly that when my child was in kindergarten?

But the struggles with school didn’t end there in kindergarten, or grade 1, or grade 2. And if you had told me back then that we would still be struggling a decade later, I honestly think I might have given up everything and moved to Mexico to live a quiet life in the sun and sand.

Just recently, I was in a situation where a staff member was trying to convince my daughter to go inside the school. In that moment, I felt like I had a choice: side with the teacher or side with my daughter. It felt like a no-brainer — I had to side with the teacher. If I sided with my daughter, it would look like I was the barrier. That I was the anxious mom (probably not entirely wrong given my 10 years of school drop off trauma) and that I was the one preventing my child from attending school.

But siding with the teacher went against my gut instinct. And damaged my relationship with my child. It is easy to push and think they can do it - especially when they are saying "I want to try school again..."

So my advice to parents is this: Listen to your instincts. They matter more than you think.

I desperately, selfishly wanted my child to walk through the school doors like 99% of the kids I see every morning. My daughter desperately wants the same. Her not being able to do that felt like a reflection of my parenting. Her not being able to do it is a reflection on her abililtes.

But is it?

School avoidance is complicated. And seeing it as only anxiety (the common assumption!) misses the bigger picture.

Stay tuned for the next two posts in this series.

Post 2 focuses on the impact on parents:

www.chloeandcotherapy.ca

Part 2 School Avoidance: The Impact on Parents

There is a part of school avoidance that no one really talks about. We talk about the child, the anxiety, the behaviour, the attendance, the plans, the meetings, the strategies. But we don’t talk enough about what this does to parents. . . because this experience changes you as a parent.It starts slowly. At first, you think it’s just a phase. Then you think it’s a bad teacher. Then you think maybe it’s anxiety. Then you think maybe you just need a better routine, a better reward system, a better

And, Part 3 will cover what we’re missing, why its not just anxiety, what hasn’t worked for us, what might help, and what is so often overlooked when we talk about school avoidance:

www.chloeandcotherapy.ca

Part 3: School Avoidance Is Not What You Think. . .

I was talking with a friend recently who attended a presentation on “school anxiety.” The school counsellor focused on behavioural strategies to manage school avoidance, but my friend felt like the talk was missing the mark. As both a parent and a counsellor who has lived through and seen this play out many times, I completely agreed with her.School avoidance . . . .Wow. This is a topic I have avoided writing about for a long time. In my previous blog posts, you can see me touching on it here a

And, for those who are fighting tears, but can bear to read another post about this - read Kristy Forbes post here https://www.kristyforbes.com.au/blog/i-want-to-try-school-again