Beyond Trying Harder Understanding the Root

Sometimes, it’s not about willpower. Really, truly understanding that has taken me a long time. I think we get sold this idea—especially as parents—that if kids just *tried* harder, focused more, then they'd achieve what's expected of them. And part of that is true, I suppose. But there’s so much more bubbling beneath the surface of "trying," especially when it comes to things like procrastination.

I was reading a fascinating piece recently about how early adversity—what we often call childhood trauma—can physically change the way our brains function, and those changes can manifest years later as difficulty getting started on tasks, even things people genuinely *want* to do. It's not just laziness or poor time management; it’s a neurological consequence of feeling unsafe and overwhelmed when you were supposed to be learning how to navigate the world.

It reminded me so much of my middle child right now. Her teacher called last October—just another layer on top of everything else at that point, honestly—about some social struggles at school. Kids who've felt fundamentally insecure don’t always know how to connect, how to read social cues, or how to advocate for themselves. I watched her withdraw a bit, and the frustration was palpable—hers, mine, even her father's. We kept saying "Just try harder! Be brave!" as if that were enough.

But what does “brave” look like when your baseline is anxiety? When every interaction feels potentially threatening? My dad’s stroke earlier this year really amplified all of that in my own life, too. Suddenly, the things I thought were important—the carefully constructed facade of competence and control—felt utterly meaningless next to keeping him safe, comforting my mom, and ensuring my kids felt secure. All the unfinished projects at work piled up; even simple emails sat unanswered for days. It wasn’t about a lack of desire; it was a complete overwhelm.

It's easy to think of trauma as these dramatic events—big losses or horrific situations—but it's often more subtle than that. Constant criticism, emotional neglect, financial instability – those things leave their mark too. They erode your sense of self and make you anticipate threat rather than opportunity. And when you’re anticipating the next shoe to drop, planning for the worst, finishing a report or even folding laundry feels… impossible. It's not about the task itself; it's about avoiding the feeling that something awful is about to happen if you *do* start and potentially fail.

I remember going through a period after my residency when I was constantly putting things off. Paying bills, making appointments, even responding to emails felt like climbing Mount Everest. It wasn’t that I didn't *want* to do those things; it was the feeling of dread beforehand—the fear of judgment, the exhaustion from carrying so much responsibility — that held me back. It took years to realize that those avoidance behaviors weren't character flaws; they were coping mechanisms developed in response to situations where I felt powerless.

So what can we do? It’s not about snapping your fingers and suddenly having perfect self-discipline. It’s about understanding the root of the procrastination—not just as a behavioral issue, but as an emotional one. Therapy, definitely; finding a safe space to process those early experiences and learn healthier ways to manage stress. But also, something as simple as recognizing that sometimes, “trying harder” isn't enough. Sometimes, what’s needed is gentleness – with yourself and with others.

I’m trying to be more mindful of that now, especially with my daughter. It’s a constant recalibration. It means actively listening when she expresses frustration, validating her feelings without judgment, and offering support instead of directives. And it reminds me—a small reminder each day —that the capacity for resilience is already there; sometimes, all it needs is a little understanding to blossom.

The work I do now, seeing children and families struggling through so many different challenges, keeps reinforcing this truth. We can’t just give them checklists or time management tips; we need to address the underlying vulnerabilities that make those tools feel unattainable in the first place. And maybe, if we start there, we create a space where “trying harder” becomes genuinely possible, not just another burden on already burdened shoulders.