All I knew for sure was that a switch had flipped in my kid, and that something was very, very wrong. I was seeing behaviors so extreme that people were recommending instutionalization for my kid. My sweet loving kid was just…gone. Replaced by growling, melting down, aggression, silence, and explosions. Everything in me screamed out to help help help my baby. And also every day was so hard. I just wanted him back, but I had no idea what this was or what to do.

If you are googling, “Why is my kid suddenly so aggressive?” - if you are asking, “Why can’t my kid just go to school in the morning?” – you might be parenting a kid in burnout. If you kid is flipping over the table when they don’t win at a game of Uno; if your kid has developed painful constipation from refusing to poop for up to a week at a time; if your kid hasn’t left their room in weeks and you didn’t know that a 6 year old could have suicidal thoughts, you might be parenting a kid in burnout.

Most of us have never heard of burnout before it starts. We are literally journeying into the unknown.

One of the worst parts of walking through burnout is the incredible vulnerability. We don’t have examples of healing to look to when we are walking through the darkest parts. It feels like a terrifying and mysterious path because there are so few stories, so little insight, and no map to navigate the unknown. Because burnout is stigmatized and isolating, it is incredibly hard to find supportive community. And we desperately need hope and community to walk this path. 

But hope is absolutely possible. I have seen it for my kids and for hundreds and hundreds of other families. 

When I first began sharing online in January of 2022, I had a few hundred followers, mostly friends and close community members. But as I processed our burnout experience in this public space, people began following along, sending me DMs, and sharing their experiences, first in a trickle, then in a flood. People were desperate to hear more about our experience of burnout, how it impacted me as a parent, and how we found healing through lowering demands, aligning expectations, and practicing radical acceptance. Being open about our suffering and describing our healing, often in real time, created the massive low demand community that exists today. 

This experience taught me that burnout is not as rare as it feels to those of us suffering alone in our homes. There are thousands of other families walking the same path. In our isolation, we feel like the only people on the planet spoon feeding our kids, being sued by the school system for truancy (when we would desperately like our kids to go!), and taking out a loan just to pay for Robux. We feel so alone. But there are so many of us. We are never alone.

Just as crucially, burnout often follows a pattern. There is a map through this terrifying wilderness. (As an autistic person with a brain hardwired to seek patterns, I particularly love seeing that things follow into distinct steps or phases!) 

Burnout often follows a rough 3-phase pattern, and each phase has very different vibes, needs, demands on parents, and healing moves. Knowing that there are phases is healing in and of itself. Knowing which phase you are in and how to respond accordingly is like having a map and a lamp to navigate this dark and twisty journey. 

But first, let’s start at the beginning, before the worst of burnout is upon you. Most parents I talk to, with the privilege of hindsight, can name small signs and signals that burnout was coming. There were warning signs, but we are not trained to see them as such. Modern parenting culture is a large contributor to the reality of burnout, because if we were given different tools earlier on, we would be able to prevent burnout in some cases. 

Read more about what pre-burnout looks like and the key moves to pre-burnout here.

Phase 1: “Screens All Day” 

Nearly every child I’ve worked with who’s gone into burnout has started at “Screens all day.” This is the period of time when it feels like all is lost. I describe it as seeing the light go out of my child’s eyes. For some, it’s screens all day—immersing themselves in video games, TV shows, TikTok or YouTube. For others, it’s reading books, building Lego, swinging in a hammock, or staring out the window for hours and hours.

This phase is often misunderstood and criticized. People call it “addiction” or claim you’re lost to “permissive parenting,” but it’s actually a crucial part of the healing process. Your child isn’t being lazy—they’re seeking safety, autonomy, and regulation.

In our caterpillar-to-butterfly transformation metaphor, this is the “goo phase.” 

Let them sink into this phase. It’s messy, but it’s so so necessary. This is where the deep transformation begins.

Phase 2: “Curious but No Capacity”

Eventually, you’ll notice a shift. Your child might bring you their tablet and say, Look at this funny thing I saw! And want you to watch it with them. Or they might express interest in a new hobby, like building a BMX track in the backyard or trying a science experiment they saw online.

But here’s the catch: Their capacity to follow through hasn’t returned yet. They’re curious, but they don’t have the emotional regulation or executive functioning skills to handle the challenges that come with their new interests.

This phase is hard. There will be meltdowns, setbacks, and frustration. This is when most parents truly panic that they’ve failed because just when things start to feel safe and predictable in phase 1, everything changes. Meltdowns happen at public parks, even though they insisted that you bring them. You may edge back into regular school attendance, only to have them kicked out again. All is incredibly typical for phase 2, “Curious but no capacity.” 

This is when they are rebuilding their new shape as a butterfly and busting out of their cocoon. Like the real life butterflies who have to learn an entirely new way to move through the world, this is a distinct phase that takes time. There are lots of moments in this phase when you fear they will never learn to fly. But grappling with failure is a key part of this phase. They are learning all the time.

Your role as a parent is to support their exploration while respecting their limits. Encourage them to try, but don’t push them beyond what they can handle. Expect setbacks, embrace non-linear growth, and celebrate small victories.

Phase 3: Recover & Rebuild

Over time, your child’s energy and capacity will begin to grow. You’ll see moments of alignment—maybe they successfully follow through on a task without a meltdown or manage a social interaction with minimal support.

These moments may be brief at first, but they’ll start to string together. One good hour becomes a good afternoon, then a good day, and eventually, a good week.

At this stage, you can start to reintroduce challenges gradually and proactively. Maybe your child is ready to return to school or join a small social group. Maybe they’re ready to take on more structured learning or do their daily care tasks independently with a schedule. Maybe they are doing all the things they used to do, pre-burnout, but now they are learning to advocate for breaks, for accommodations, and for their own thriving.

Respect their pacing and let them set boundaries. Teach them to advocate for themselves and honor their own limits. Recovery isn’t about getting back to who they were before—it’s about embracing who they are becoming.

Burnout is a portal to real transformation.

Burnout isn’t a black hole. It’s a portal. 

Burnout changes kids—and it changes parents too. There’s grief in letting go of the child you thought you had and embracing the one emerging from the cocoon. But there’s also beauty in this transformation.

Your role isn’t to fix or rush the process. Your role is to create the cocoon, to hold your child with love and safety, and to let them emerge on their own timeline. This isn’t easy, and it isn’t quick. But it’s worth it.

I’m holding hope for you—one day you’ll look back and see just how incredibly far you’ve come.