At a child-rearing support center, two mothers each said, “I’m struggling with parenting.”
If either case made the news, the headline would likely read: “Mother was seeking help for parenting difficulties.” But what these two women were actually carrying could not have been more different.
For frontline support workers, the first and most critical skill is learning to hear what lies beneath the words “I’m struggling.” You must not be misled by the surface.
Two Mothers at the Support Center
Two mothers walked into a child-rearing consultation office at a local government center.
Mother A
Counselor: “What brings you here today?”
A: “I’ve been struggling with parenting…
My child’s crying terrifies me. For the first few months I managed, but about six months ago I started panicking whenever I heard crying—my mind would go completely blank. Since then, I’ve been desperately holding myself back from hitting my child, but last week I finally did it. I was so frightened of myself that I came here today.”
(Mother A is holding back tears)
Counselor: “Thank you for telling me that. It took courage to come here. Could you tell me a bit more?”
A: “My child is still little, so they keep coming to me saying ‘Mama, Mama.’ I know they’re probably just anxious and want to be held… but that terrifies me.
All the other mothers seem to love their children so naturally. I should be loving mine too—but I’m afraid of my own child. I’m a terrible mother…”
Counselor: “May I ask about your husband and your mother?”
A: “My husband always comes home late and isn’t really involved in childcare. But I understand—his work is demanding, so it can’t be helped. My mother lives far away, so of course she can’t help. Besides, she did send a gift when the baby was born. Other mothers manage on their own somehow, don’t they…”
Mother B
Counselor: “What brings you here today?”
B: “I’ve hit a wall with parenting…
My kid won’t eat at all! I cook for them and everything, but all they do is complain—the other day they even threw a plate at me! I got so mad I shoved them, and then they started bawling… I’m the one who should be crying here!”
(Mother B appears angry)
Counselor: “That sounds really tough. Thank you for coming in. Tell me—do you find your child cute?”
B: “Sure, they’re cute? I mean, look at those big double-lidded eyes. They look just like me.
But when they won’t listen, I get SO frustrated. I had plans to meet a friend and they wouldn’t get ready at all! Same thing happened at that hotel the other time!
And my husband does absolutely nothing to help! This isn’t what I signed up for! I’m the one doing everything, every single day. It’s BOTH our kid—isn’t that unfair?!”
Counselor: “…I see. That does sound difficult. Every day must be a lot. By the way, what made you decide to come here today?”
B: “Huh? My husband told me I should ‘go talk to someone about my parenting complaints.’ He kept bugging me about it, so I came just to shut him up.
Well, I AM struggling with parenting, that much is true~
Oh by the way, this place looks so nice now! Are those drinks over there free?”
(Mother B suddenly changes the subject)
Between “Distress” and “Maladjustment”
Both mothers said, “I’m struggling with parenting.” But the substance behind those words was entirely different.
What Mother A carries is conflict. She is torn between wanting to love her child and the reality that she cannot manage. She feels guilt for having hit her child and recognizes that things cannot continue this way. She came to this center of her own will.
Mother A is likely a parent with typical cognitive functioning.
▼ Looking back at Mother A’s speech—all three cognitive functions are present
| ✓ ❶ Timeline | “For the first few months → six months ago → last week → came here today”—events are organized chronologically |
| ✓ ❷ Perspective-taking | “They’re probably just anxious,” “His work is demanding”—she imagines the feelings of her child, husband, and mother |
| ✓ ❸ Self-comparison | “I should be loving mine too”—she compares her ideal self with her actual self |
Her self-blame is excessive, but beneath it lies a desperate wish to repair the relationship with her child. This is the structure of genuine inner conflict.
Mother B, on the other hand, carries frustration and anger—toward her child, toward her husband. There is no visible guilt about having shoved her child. She came to the center only because her husband told her to. Her narrative lacks chronological coherence, drifts from topic to topic, and leaves the counselor wondering, “Why did she come here…?”
▼ Looking back at Mother B’s speech
| × ❶ Timeline | Only “the other day”—no specifics of when or what the situation was |
| × ❷ Perspective-taking | No mention of why the child won’t eat or how the child feels |
| × ❸ Self-comparison | “I cook for them and everything”—the premise is “I’m in the right,” with no comparison between ideal and actual self |
▼ In her second response (“double-lidded eyes”)—topics jump one after another
| ❶ | “Double-lidded eyes, looks just like me” | Child’s appearance only (no interest in inner world) |
| ❷ | “Won’t listen → SO frustrated” | Abrupt jump to complaint |
| ❸ | “Had plans to meet a friend…” | Jumps from childcare to personal plans |
| ❹ | “Same thing at that hotel!” | When? What?—scene shifts without context |
| ❺ | “Husband does nothing!” | Abrupt jump to spousal complaint |
| ❻ | “Isn’t that unfair?!” | Seeks agreement (justification, not reflection) |
The counselor loses track of what they are even listening to. This is the hallmark of speech shaped by cognitive limitations.
Mother B is a parent with borderline intellectual functioning.
Recognizing this difference is the very first step in providing appropriate support.
Column: Distress vs. Maladjustment — A Workplace Illustration
The divide between genuine distress and maladjustment doesn’t only appear in parenting. It shows up in the workplace too — and seeing it there can make the pattern easier to recognize.
Consider two employees, A and B, both underperforming at work. Their colleagues are staying late to cover for them.
Employee A is acutely aware of the problem. “I’m putting so much burden on everyone,” they think. “I’m failing professionally.” They carry visible guilt proportional to the impact they’re causing. People around A can feel that sense of responsibility — and while the situation is hard, A’s distress is real and legible.
Employee B is different. They don’t appear bothered that colleagues are covering for their mistakes. When B’s error upsets a client, they respond with frustration rather than remorse. Colleagues find themselves wondering: does B even see what’s happening?
The decisive difference: A is troubled by the situation. B is not — but everyone around B is. Someone like B, where the people nearby are clearly affected but the person at the center appears unmoved, is experiencing maladjustment, not distress. The suffering is real, but it belongs entirely to others.
Why Cognitive Ability Shapes How People Ask for Help
Why does a difference in cognitive ability lead to such different ways of expressing distress? The answer lies in the capacity for self-reflection—the ability to look at one’s own behavior objectively and evaluate it.
To reflect and realize “what I did was wrong,” the following cognitive functions are required:
Only when all three are in place can genuine self-reflection—”what I did was wrong”—occur.
A parent with typical cognitive functioning possesses this capacity. She can look back on her own behavior and articulate it as a “concern.” When cognitive limitations are present, however, this kind of reflection becomes difficult, and the very way a person asks for help fundamentally changes.
Reading the Emotions Behind the Words
What support workers need to listen for is not the words themselves, but the emotions and structures behind them.
Mother A’s speech has a timeline. She can explain events in order. She makes remarks that imagine her child’s feelings. Her self-blame is excessive, but beneath it lies a desperate wish to make things right with her child. Even regarding her husband and mother, she tries to understand their positions—”His work is demanding,” “Of course she can’t help.”
Mother B’s speech lacks chronological coherence. Neither the child’s age nor specific circumstances are articulated. There are no words imagining the child’s inner world. Instead, expressions seeking agreement—”Isn’t that awful?” “Isn’t that normal?”—appear frequently. Topics shift abruptly, and the counselor loses track of what they are hearing.
This difference is not a matter of personality. It is a difference in cognitive functioning manifesting as a difference in how distress is expressed. The ability to imagine another’s feelings, to organize events sequentially, to reflect on one’s own behavior—these cognitive functions are what separate “distress” from “maladjustment.”
When Assessment Goes Wrong
What happens if the counselor responds to both mothers in exactly the same way? Suppose, for instance, the counselor says: “You shoved your child? That’s very concerning. That could be considered abuse.”
Mother A would spiral into self-condemnation: “I really am the worst mother.” She might fear that reaching out again could lead to a report to child protective services, causing her to withdraw from support entirely. At the end of that path of isolation lies the worst possible outcome—harm to both herself and her child.
Mother B would hear it as: “My husband made me go and I got scolded.” She would never return to the center. And upon returning home, she might take it out on her child—with even greater force than before.
The same words can isolate one parent and escalate another’s violence. When assessment goes wrong, support itself becomes harm. This is precisely why the ability to discern what lies behind “I’m struggling” is demanded of every support worker.
Two Types of Listening Every Support Worker Needs
To distinguish between these two cases, what perspectives should a support worker bring?
The first is whether self-blame is present. Mother A said, “I’m a terrible mother.” This is self-criticism—but it is simultaneously a sign that she perceives a gap between who she should be and who she is. The fact that she can see her own behavior as problematic is evidence of inner conflict. For a person who carries conflict, the act of being listened to carefully is itself a form of support.
The second is whether the person has a clear purpose in seeking help. Mother B came because her husband told her to. The topic drifted midway through, and she could not follow the counselor’s line of questioning. This suggests not “wanting to change something through consultation,” but rather “coming as the goal in itself.”
The phrase “I’m struggling” is used regardless of the depth of self-awareness behind it. In child welfare settings, overlooking this distinction directly leads to misjudgments that affect a child’s safety. The first thing a support worker must assess is not the content of the problem—it is whether the person can recognize it as a problem at all.
Mother A recognizes that her behavior affects her child. Mother B does not. This single difference changes the entire direction of support.
◆ Initial Interview Screening Checklist
① Can events be narrated chronologically? — Can the person say “yesterday this happened, then this followed” in order? Or do topics jump back and forth unpredictably?
② Are the child’s feelings mentioned? — Do phrases like “I think my child was scared” or “It must have hurt” appear?
③ Is self-blame present? — Does “It’s my fault” or “This can’t go on” appear? Or is blame directed outward: “The child is the problem,” “Everyone else is wrong”?
④ Was the visit self-motivated? — Did the person come on their own, or because someone told them to?
⑤ Frequency of agreement-seeking expressions — If “Isn’t that terrible?” or “That’s normal, right?” is repeated, the person may be unable to view their own behavior objectively.
For a parent who carries inner conflict, provide a safe space to speak. For a parent who does not, intervene to protect the child’s safety. Simply “listening to concerns” will not save the latter’s child. Distinguishing between two kinds of “struggling” is the first professional competency demanded of every support worker.
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FAQ
What is the difference between “distress” and “maladjustment” in parenting?
Distress involves inner conflict—the parent recognizes a gap between how they want to parent and how they actually behave, and feels guilt or anxiety about it. Maladjustment, by contrast, involves frustration and anger without self-reflection. The parent does not perceive their own behavior as problematic and tends to blame the child or circumstances instead.
Why does cognitive ability affect how a parent asks for help?
Self-reflection requires multiple cognitive functions: organizing events chronologically, imagining others’ feelings, and comparing one’s ideal self with reality. When these capacities are limited—as in borderline intellectual functioning—the parent cannot frame their behavior as a “concern,” and their speech patterns differ markedly from parents with typical cognition.
What should support workers listen for in initial interviews?
Key indicators include: whether events are narrated chronologically, whether the child’s feelings are mentioned, whether self-blame is present, whether the visit was self-motivated, and how frequently the parent uses agreement-seeking expressions like “Isn’t that normal?”
What happens when a support worker misjudges which type of parent they are dealing with?
A parent with inner conflict may be driven into deeper self-condemnation and withdraw from support entirely, risking isolation and crisis. A parent without self-reflection may feel unjustly criticized and never return—then escalate their behavior at home. The same response can harm both the parent and the child in opposite ways.
References
Miyaguchi Kōji, The Boy Who Could Not Cut a Cake — An accessible introduction to the cognitive characteristics of people with borderline intellectual functioning.
Specialized clinical training in child abuse intervention (Takahashi) — Professional training systematizing assessment techniques based on cognitive differences in how parents present their concerns.
This article is the English version of a post from kokoro note (こころノート), a Japanese-language site on child abuse, developmental trauma, and recovery.
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