When your teen isn’t motivated

There’s a mom I’ve been working with who has a son in 12th grade.

Let’s call him Thomas.

Sweet kid. Smart. Funny. Athletic.
Diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety.

And struggling with procrastination that made everything feel impossible.

If you have a teen like this, you know the pattern:

They don’t start the assignment.
They avoid the paper.
They “forget” about the quiz.
They doom scroll, game, watch YouTube.

Not because they don’t care…

But because trying feels terrifying.

AP Statistics was the class that sent Thomas’ anxiety through the roof.

He kept saying, “I’m locking in tonight.”
(Teen lingo for: “I’m finally going to get this done.")

But then the night would come…
and the overwhelm would hit…

and his brain didn’t say: Let’s do this.

It said something more like:

I can’t do this. So why bother trying.

He’d avoid homework.
Then disappear into YouTube or gaming.
Then feel awful for not starting.
And tomorrow, it would feel even harder.

His mom was watching him fall behind in real time.

She wasn’t just frustrated.
She was scared.

Is he going to fail?
Is he going to get into college?
Is he ever going to pull it together?

So she did what good, responsible parents do when they’re scared:

• Reminded him constantly

• Checked the school portal

• Tried to help him organize

• “Motivated” him

• Pep talks

• Tough talks

• “Come on, you can do this,” talks

And nothing worked.

Not because she was doing it wrong.

But because she loved him and worried about what would happen if he didn’t get moving.

But here’s what I want you to hear:

He wasn’t unmotivated.
He was scared.

And when you care that much, doing nothing feels safer than trying and failing.

And every reminder, every conversation landed like:

Pressure. Expectation. Overwhelm.

And when the anxiety hits, their brain doesn't say, Let’s do this.

It runs.
Or freezes.
Or games for two hours.

Not because they’re lazy.

But because when you care that much, and you might fail, it's easier not to try at all.

A few weeks into our work together, something shifted.

She said to me:

“I think I need to stop trying to save him from every possible bad outcome.”

Not because she stopped caring.
She cared deeply.

But because trying to make him do his work wasn’t helping either of them.

We talked about something I share with a lot of parents of anxious, overwhelmed teens:

When kids believe they’re allowed to try—and fail—they actually start trying.

Not long after that, Stats came up again.

He hadn’t started the assignment.
Again.

And his fear was bubbling over.

She could feel her old instinct kicking in:

Let me fix this.
Let me help you.
Let me make sure you don’t screw this up.

But instead, she took a breath.

And said the five words that changed everything:

“Go fail with honor, Thomas.”

Not sarcastic.
Not dismissive.
Not resigned.

Just…

Permission.

To be imperfect.
To try.
To mess up.
To recover.

To not have his future riding on one assignment.

She didn’t mean, “don’t care.”
She meant, “try, even if it’s messy.”

There were still hard nights.
Still avoidance.
Still fear.

But…he started talking more.
Asking for help sooner.
Admitting when he was overwhelmed instead of melting down at 10 pm.

And slowly…
he started doing the work.

Not early. Not with a smile. Not perfectly.

But without the panic that used to take over.

And here’s the moment that made her cry:

He turned in a big Stats assignment.
The one he’d been terrified of.
The one she thought was headed for disaster.

And he got the best grade he’d gotten all semester.

He texted her a screenshot of the grade with just one word:

“Mom.”

No exclamation point.
No celebration.

Just… acknowledgment.

Like he was saying:

I did it.
You trusted me.
It worked.

When she told me, she laughed through tears and said,

“I spent months trying to prevent him from failing. And the moment I made peace with it, he finally tried.”

So if you have your own Thomas…

a kid who is unmotivated,
who avoids,
who disappears into their phone,
who says, “I’m going to get my act together tonight,”
and then doesn’t…

You already know what I'm going to say:

It's not laziness. It's fear of failure.

This doesn’t fix itself with punishments or lectures.

But it does change when the relationship changes.

When the parent becomes:

• less pressure

• more steady

• less rescue

• more trust

When the message shifts from:

“Just get it done.”

to:

“Just do what you can, even if it's not perfect.”

teenagers stop running from us
and start coming toward us.

And if you're reading this thinking, This is exactly what's happening in my house,

I want you to know you’re not alone.

So many teens are struggling with anxiety and overwhelm right now.

And so many parents are quietly terrified about their kid’s future.

If you’d like support navigating this,
so it doesn’t feel so heavy or lonely,

Tap to book a Parenting Breakthrough Call.

One parent told me, “I walked in heavy, and walked out lighter. I didn’t know one conversation could do that.”

One hour to finally exhale.
No pressure, just help.

🧡 Jeanine