I recently found my grandfather's watch. It's too big for my wrist, and it stopped telling time a long time ago, but I have been wearing it anyway. It helps me feel close to him. He was such an important person in my life. He taught me so much and gave me so much love, and I still miss him terribly 39 years later. 

When a teen is struggling, parents often see the outcome before they understand the cause: missing assignments, irritability, tears, procrastination, trouble getting out of bed, or a sudden drop in confidence. It can look like laziness, defiance, anxiety, or depression. Sometimes, however, ADHD is part of the picture—and it may not look the way parents expect.

If you are a teen girl, you've probably looked in the mirror and immediately found something you wanted to change. Maybe you think you are too big, too small, too tall, too short, too developed, or not developed enough. You may compare your stomach, legs, skin, hair, or chest to other people’s bodies.

Every generation has its own answer to the question, “How can I feel better?” Over the decades, self-help has evolved alongside culture and technology. What has not changed is our desire for relief, direction, and control when life feels overwhelming.

Many women are taught, directly or indirectly, that being capable means being available to everyone. We become the person who remembers the appointments, notices when a child is struggling, checks on an aging parent, helps a friend through a crisis, keeps the household moving, and still shows up professionally with a smile. (That is me every day!)

I know, it sounds counterintuitive. Most parenting instincts are to protect, intervene, smooth the path. But a growing body of evidence suggests that some of the best things you can do for your child involve stepping back and letting them stumble, or even fail, on purpose, while the consequences at this stage of their life are still small.

As a therapist specializing in therapy for women and women's mental health, I work with perfectionism and overachieving anxiety every day—not just in my practice, but in my own life.

I was nine years old, spending another summer camping on the mountain in Lincoln, Vermont. While my older sisters…

Five years. That's how long I lived in the space between hope and heartbreak, between wanting and wondering if I'd ever become a mother. 

People are often surprised to hear that many therapists, including me, started out as clients long before we ever thought about doing this work.