When your best is someone else’s ‘not good enough’.

A few years ago I really struggled to get my kid to cooperate with anything. Let’s call her Mary.* Every single activity in our day felt like a battle. Then one day I realised we really were at war, and I was turning into exactly the sort of parent I didn’t want to be – more angry, resentful, and fearful than loving and kind.

I had only just received my own ADHD diagnosis. The realisation that we had somehow found ourselves at war set me on a path to better understanding her and becoming the person I am today.

Looking back now, I see that I made the mistake that we all make with each other when we are not mindful of our own thoughts. I was caught up in ideas about how things ‘should’ be, rather than being present and attuned to my child and seeing how things were. She did an amazing job of standing up for herself and telling me in her own way, ”No mummy. That’s not ok with me.”

Finally, I was ready to hear her and become her problem-solving partner in life, rather than just another problem she had to contend with. I became curious and started trying to see the world from her perspective. I realised that she was doing her best, and I had to adjust my expectations.

I stopped trying to make my daughter be someone she wasn’t and I tried to understand and support who she was.

Then it was like a miracle happened, and our lives changed for the better.

I recently had the opportunity to reflect on what I want the people in our life to know about our daughter. In my moment of quiet reflection, I concluded that what I want people to know more than anything else is that Mary works very hard to fit in and do well, in ways most people wouldn’t appreciate. People usually observe the result of her efforts, not the effort itself, which takes place inside of her. It’s easy for this effort to go unrecognised and unrewarded by people who don’t know better. It’s my job to make sure that the people in her life know better.

I’m quite certain she works harder than most people realise, because at the slightest hint she’s done something ‘wrong’ or ‘not good enough’, the notion is more painful than she can bear.

What I want people to understand is that when Mary is distracted or disinterested in the task at hand, she is doing her best.

When she is having an epic meltdown, she is doing her best.

When she is refusing to do something, she is doing her best.

When she is impatient or irritable, she is doing her best.

When she doesn’t respond to you for no apparent reason, she is doing her best.

I don’t care what you see in front of you – know that the child before you is absolutely doing her best.

The only way I want anyone to respond to her when she is not meeting their expectations is with an appreciation for the fact that she is always doing her best, even if her best doesn’t match what you would prefer to see.

Just like any of us, she has limits. They might be unique to her, but they should be respected all the same for what they are: beyond her control.

No one can work exceptionally hard in every waking moment. At some point, we need to be able to rest. Unless there is regular relief from the requirement to perform, there comes a point at which something that was once possible becomes impossible.

Just because Mary can do something, doesn't mean she can always do it. When she can't do it, it's not because she doesn't want to be able to. She just can't anymore.

At the point of ‘can’t,’ she needs to be met with acceptance and appreciation for all that she was able to do up to that point, not judgment or punishment.

If I watched a marathon runner collapse with exhaustion just before the finish line, I wouldn’t give them a hard time for failing. I would offer them a helping hand.

I would commend their effort and point out how far they’d come.

Our children run marathons every day.

In my moment of quiet reflection, I became aware that this is what I want the world to understand about Mary, and about all children.

Many of you reading this may take it for granted that, as Ross Greene put it, “kids do well when they can”. It’s joyful to me that parenting advice has come a long way since I was a kid. You might even wonder why I’m bothering to focus on this, given how widely known and embraced this idea has become.

Why is it so important to keep coming back to this principle? Because it’s so hard to hold this in mind.

When kids are doing things that are difficult to understand, highly inconvenient, or seriously dangerous, it can be hard to keep your cool and remember that they are doing their best.

Even though I know unquestioningly that Mary is always doing her best, I struggle to remember it in moments of my own distress or exhaustion. Routinely reminding myself of this principle helps me to keep it in mind when it would be easy to forget, and I suspect the same is true for you.

Most of all, I feel that this is a message for our time.

I fear that we are collectively burnt out.  Across the country, many people are exhausted and stressed following years of pandemic and uncertain economic times.  I fear that many of us have little of anything left to extend to anyone.  Many people are just barely keeping their nose above water.  I fear that the most vulnerable members of our society will bear the brunt of our collective fatigue.  

Let’s try to meet ourselves and each other with renewed curiosity and kindness, especially if your ‘best’ resembles a chaotic mess right now.  Let’s pause for a moment and notice how we are all doing our best, and how it is unhelpful to ask anyone for more than that.  Especially ourselves.

Catherine O’Kane is an ADHD Life Coach and Consultant at ADHD Partners and the General Manager of ADHD Victoria.

Catherine is an ADD Coach Academy Certified ADHD Coach; a member of the International Coaching Federation, the Australian ADHD Professionals Association, and the Australian Adult ADHD Interest Group.

You can find out more about Catherine and contact her here.

*Names in this article have been changed.

Further Resources:

  • Books by Dr Ross Greene on collaborative parenting