At a parenting-support desk, two different mothers said the same thing: “I’m struggling with parenting.”
If something later showed up in the news, the report on either of them would say “she had been seeking help with parenting.” But what these two women are actually carrying could not be more different.
The first thing the work asks of a support worker is to listen for what sits underneath the words “I’m struggling.” Don’t be misled by the surface phrasing.
Two Mothers at the Support Desk
At one municipal parenting-consultation desk, two mothers came in.
A’s case
Worker: “What brings you in today?”
A: “I’m struggling with parenting…
I’m afraid of my child crying. I managed for the first few months, but starting about half a year ago, when I hear the crying I just freeze up; my head goes blank. Since then I’ve been parenting while desperately trying not to raise my hand — and last week I finally did. I scared myself. That’s why I came in today.” (A is fighting back tears.)
Worker: “I see. Thank you for telling me. May I ask a little more?”
B’s case
Worker: “What brings you in today?”
B: “I’m at the end of my rope with parenting…
My kid won’t eat anything I make! I make food for them, and they just complain — and the other day they threw the plate at me!
I lost it and shoved them, and they started bawling — like, I’m the one who wants to cry here!” (B sounds angry.)
Worker: “I see, that does sound hard. I’m glad you came in. Is your child cute?”
B: “Sure, of course they are. Look at these big round double-eyelids — exactly like mine, see?
But when they don’t listen, oh god, it makes me so irritated. I’m trying to meet up with friends and the prep just doesn’t move forward! Same thing the other day at the hotel!
And my husband doesn’t help at all! Like, this isn’t what I signed up for! I’m the one having to deal with everything every day. They’re his kid too — that’s not fair, right?!”
Worker: “…I see… every day really must be a lot… By the way, what made you decide to come in today?”
B: “Hmm? My husband told me I should come and ‘vent about parenting somewhere.’ He kept on at me, so I came. I mean, I am struggling with parenting, that part’s true.
Oh, by the way — this place looks really nice now! Are those drinks over there free?” (B’s topic suddenly shifts.)
Between “Distress” and “Maladjustment”
Both said “I’m struggling with parenting.” But what is inside that phrase, in each case, is not at all the same.
What A is carrying is conflict. She is suffering between the wish to love her child and the reality that isn’t going as she hoped. She feels guilt over having raised a hand, and she recognizes “this can’t continue.” She came in by her own decision.
It is reasonable to assume A is a mother whose intelligence is unimpaired.
▼ Looking back at A’s account — three cognitive functions are all working
| ✓ ❶ Time sequence | “I usually manage → last week I finally did → so I came in” — events organized in order. |
| ✓ ❷ Imagination | She imagines what is going on inside the child — the fear behind the crying. |
| ✓ ❸ Comparison | “I should not be doing this” — she compares the parent she wants to be against the one she actually is. |
▼ Looking back at B’s account — those three functions are not engaging
| × ❶ Time sequence | No clear sequence; complaints stack one on top of another. |
| × ❷ Imagination | No reference to why the child won’t eat, or how the child might be feeling. |
| × ❸ Comparison | “I’m the one making the food, and yet…” — she takes for granted that she is in the right; no comparison between ideal and reality. |
▼ And in her second turn (“big round double-eyelids”) — the topic jumps
| ❶ | “Big round double-eyelids — like mine.” | Child’s appearance (no interest in the inside). |
| ❷ | “Doesn’t listen — meeting friends — the hotel the other day.” | Hops to her own grievances. |
| ❸ | “Husband doesn’t help.” | Hops again — to a marital complaint. |
| ❹ | “This place looks nice — are those drinks free?” | Pure topic shift. |
The worker loses track of “what are we actually talking about?” That is the characteristic shape of speech under cognitive constraint.
B is a mother with borderline intelligence.
Telling these two cases apart is the first step of support work.
Why does the difference in cognitive ability show up as a difference in how each woman makes her appeal? Because something is happening — or not happening — at the level of “the ability to step back, look at one’s own behavior, and reflect on it.”
To say “what I did was wrong,” the following cognitive functions have to be working:
Only when these three line up does the reflection “what I did was wrong” become possible.
A mother whose intelligence is unimpaired has these three abilities and so can step back from her own behavior and put it into the form of “I’m struggling.” For someone who has cognitive constraints, that step-back is hard, and the very shape of how she presents her appeal changes.
The difference between distress and maladjustment doesn’t only show up in parenting. Take a workplace example.
A and B are both struggling at work. Their colleagues are putting in extra hours to cover for them. A is acutely aware that her work isn’t going well, and is blaming herself: “I’m putting a burden on my colleagues,” “I’m failing as a professional.” A is “in distress.” Her colleagues feel the burden, but they also sense that A carries a fitting amount of guilt about it.
B, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to register that her colleagues are staying late to cover. Even after a mistake of hers angers a client, what comes out of her is complaint, not reflection. Her colleagues think privately, “Does she even understand what’s happening?”
The decisive difference is right here. A is struggling herself. B is not struggling — but the people around her are. The state in which there are objectively things to struggle with, but no internal conflict in the person themselves while everyone around them takes the strain, is what we call “maladjustment.”
Listen for the Feeling Underneath the Words
What a support worker has to listen for is not the words but the feeling and the structure underneath.
A’s account has a time sequence. She can lay out events in order. There are statements that imagine the child’s feelings. The self-blame “I am the problem” is excessive, but inside it sits a real urgency — to do something about her relationship with her child. Toward her husband and her own mother, she still tries to understand their position: “they have their reasons.”
B’s account has no time sequence. The child’s age and circumstances are not concretely described. There are no words imagining what the child might be feeling, while phrases asking the worker to side with her — “Isn’t that awful?” “Surely this is normal?” — appear repeatedly. Topics jump abruptly, and the worker loses track of what is actually being discussed.
This difference is not a “personality” issue. A difference in cognitive function is showing through as a difference in how each woman makes her appeal. The capacity to imagine the other person’s feelings, the capacity to put events in order, the capacity to reflect on one’s own behavior — these are what divide “distress” from “maladjustment.”
What Happens When the Assessment Goes Wrong
What if this support worker had responded to both women in the same way — say, with “You shoved your child? That’s not okay. That borderlines on abuse”?
A would corner herself: “So I really am the worst kind of mother.” She would start to fear that “the next time I ask for help, I’ll be reported to child welfare,” and she would begin carrying the problem alone. What waits at the end of being driven away from support is isolation — and, in the worst case, parent-child suicide.
B would interpret it as: “My husband told me to come and now I’m getting yelled at.” She would never come back to that desk. And once home, she might take it out on the child — with more force than before.
The same words isolate one woman and accelerate the other’s violence. When the assessment is wrong, “support” becomes harm. That is exactly why a support worker has to be able to listen for what sits underneath the phrase “I’m struggling.”
The Two Kinds of Listening Every Worker Needs
What angle does a support worker need in order to tell these two cases apart?
The first is whether self-blame is present. A said “I’m a terrible mother.” That is self-criticism, but at the same time it is a sign that she feels the gap between “the parent I should be” and the parent she is. Being able to register one’s own behavior as a problem is itself proof that conflict is happening inside. For someone who is in conflict, simply being listened to carefully is, on its own, support.
The second is whether there is a clear purpose behind coming in. A came of her own will. B came because her husband kept telling her to. The recognition that “what I am doing is causing damage to my child” is there in A; in B it is not. That single difference completely reshapes the direction support has to take.
The points to attend to in a first session boil down to the following.
◆ A first-session listening checklist
① Can the parent tell events in time sequence — “yesterday this happened, then this,” in order — or do things move back and forth and jump suddenly to other topics?
② Are the child’s feelings ever referred to — phrases like “the child must have been scared too,” “that must have hurt them”?
③ Is there self-blame — “I’m the one at fault,” “this can’t go on”? Or does the blame go outward — “the child is the problem,” “the people around me are the problem”?
④ Is the motivation to come in self-driven? Did the parent come of their own will, or because someone else pushed them?
For parents in conflict, give “a place where it is safe to talk.” For parents who are not in conflict, give “intervention to protect the child’s safety.” If a worker stops at “listening to the distress,” the children of the second group will not be reached. Telling the two kinds of “I’m struggling” apart is the first piece of professional skill the work asks for.
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