Letting Her Struggle

A few mornings ago, I was trying to get my toddler out the door. It was one of those moments where everything took forever. Her new wave of independence meant she wanted to do everything herself.

As I watched her struggle to put on her socks and shoes—knowing it would be so much faster if I did it for her—I remembered the importance of letting her. These are things she has to learn to do on her own. The goal isn’t efficiency; it’s confidence.

So instead of rushing or taking over, I chose to appreciate her struggle. That tiny, frustration-filled moment was actually a holy one. It was practice—practice for resilience, patience, and self-trust.

And it made me think of therapy.

So often, people come in carrying deep pain and want relief right away. They want me to tell them what to do—what I would do. Sometimes it feels almost cruel not to give an answer. There are moments I want to say, “Yes, leave that toxic job.” Or, “It’s time to walk away.” But I know that wouldn’t serve them.

Because the truth is, people have to arrive there themselves.

I remember a client early in my career who asked in our first session if they should divorce their husband. I told them that wasn’t something I could decide for them. And that was our only session together. At the time, I wondered if I’d failed. But now I understand that my job isn’t to take over someone’s struggle—it’s to hold space for it.

The struggle is the work. The wrestling is where we build the muscles of knowing ourselves.

Watching my daughter tug on her shoes felt like a mirror. If I step in and do it for her, I steal her process of learning. And in therapy, the same is true. I can support, encourage, and celebrate the small victories—but I can’t do the work for someone.

As I write this, I picture her beaming with pride as she finally gets her shoe on, shouting, “I did it!” And I feel that same quiet joy when a client says, “I finally understand.”

Both moments remind me: growth takes time, struggle is sacred, and doing it yourself is part of becoming whole.

We do the work ourselves, but we heal in the presence of another.