A follow-up: why this conversation matters

I did not expect the response to my last blog post. The messages, emails, and private notes that followed were overwhelming. I think I understand why: very few people speak openly about this experience.

Parenting a child or youth who uses aggression toward family members or caregivers is an extreme and isolating journey. It is not what most people imagine when they think about parenting, trauma, or disability. Over the years, as I have walked alongside families living this reality, I have learned a great deal about endurance, grief, shame—and about how invisible caregivers often become when things fall apart.

I received a strong critique of the post by someone. I was not offended. In the world of AFCCA, this tension is familiar. It reflects a deeper struggle about how we name what is happening behind closed doors. Language matters. And it is often deeply contested.

Before this work, I spent years as a therapist supporting foster and adoptive families—helping parents understand attachment, co-regulation, trauma, neurodevelopmental differences, and how to accommodate their children’s needs. I have seen many families heal. But I have also seen families where, despite skilled parenting, deep commitment, and extensive support, things got worse, not better.

As clinicians, they leave you questioning everything. As a community, people began telling me, “Something is missing. These families are falling through the cracks.” It became clear that even the most devoted caregivers were being asked to survive the unsustainable.

When everything is framed only as “dysregulation,” parents who ask for help are too often minimized or blamed. Their fear, exhaustion, and injuries disappear from the conversation.

What caregivers shared with me—again and again—was simple and heartbreaking. They wanted to be believed. They wanted their suffering to matter. They wanted guidance without judgment. And they wanted it understood that naming their pain does not mean denying their child’s pain.

I was told that I was not child-focused enough.

That critique matters. And this is my response: I am no longer working from a purely child-centred lens. I am working from a family-focused one. Every person in a family deserves dignity, safety, and freedom from harm. The caregivers I meet are extraordinarily committed. They live on high alert for years, walking on eggshells, constantly adapting, constantly trying to prevent the next crisis. Many are profoundly depleted—sleep deprived, afraid, and cut off from the most basic human needs: rest, peace, and safety.

Supporting caregivers is not a betrayal of children. It is often the most powerful way to support them. Asking parents to remain endlessly regulated in environments that are not safe is not trauma-informed—it is harmful.

This is why the AFCCA consortium chose the term Aggression Towards Family and Caregivers during Childhood and Adolescence. (https://www.afcca-apfea.ca) Not to blame, but to name the reality clearly enough that families can finally access meaningful support. The term is imperfect. And we talk about this won’t please everyone. What matters is that we continue to respond with empathy, care, and shared responsibility—rather than silence or judgment.

Thank you to every caregiver, professional who reached out, shared their story, or simply read and felt less alone. We need one another—to restore hope, to rebuild strength, and to advocate together as a community.

As Judith Herman reminds us:
“Recovery can take place only within the context of relationships; it cannot occur in isolation.”