posted 25th June 2025
One of the things I get asked often is, ‘How can I help my daughter (or son) with her body image issues’. There are some obvious responses to this; be supportive, stay calm, think before you speak….there’s a long list which we cover in detail in our support for parents workshops (see what’s coming soon in our shop page and if this resonates with you, ping us an email and join our mail list).
Our teens are going through challenging times, even at the best of times, but there will be those who are showing worrying signs of appearance concerns and anxiety, perhaps you notice they are overly preoccupied with their appearance and asking you repeatedly for your reassurance or they may be withdrawing into their room, taking many selfies, comparing themselves to others. Being particularly challenging.
This is the stage when as a parent we may get our first sense that something is seriously wrong, it’s a scary time; are things too insignificant to reach out for help from your GP and even if you did, what could they offer? Would that mean my child would be given a label of a ‘disorder’?
There’s a lot of concern for us parents and there’s one other factor that may arise to add to the confusion: very many teenagers go through a time of withdrawal from their parents and this can extend to outright hostility and distain towards parents. This stage is one where a teenager is naturally exploring independence and when their peer group may have more impact, importance and influence. We are likely to go through times when we feel excluded from their lives or simply feel hated and demonised.
If your teenager is going through this and you have concerns about their appearance anxiety then this may be a cause for personal reflection about our role and behaviour as their parent. I had to learn some very painful lessons about myself during this stage of my children’s lives, (I’m still learning!), but I am grateful that these challenges were presented to me so that I had that opportunity to grow.
This past week I have worked with a family whose teenage son has early stage BDD. There’s no diagnosis yet, but he is undoubtedly struggling. He is open with me about his beliefs about his body and how the relationship with him and his parents is broken, currently he hates them and stays in his room. I decided to meet with his mother to see whether I could help from the other side. I’d love to tell you what mum said, but I can’t find a way to make the words adequately anonymised. Suffice to say, mum is angry that her son is withdrawing and she shouts at him a lot. I have been there and I understand, teenagers push every button we have, and they know what button is best in any given situation!
Helping our children and teens is a lot about learning our part in co-creating the path to their wellbeing, as parents I think it is beholden on us to lead this process with sensitivity, kindness, compassion, patience and above all, with love (hence the image of the love heart sweeties at the top). I’m not talking here about some sentimental sugary love, rather the kind of steady, love that is written of in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails”. That’s a hard one to embody, but it’s an aspiration: our teens are likely to fight with us and our role is to stay in relation with them and not let ourselves become lost in our historic patterns of matching hostility with hostility.
I don’t know if the mother I mentioned above has yet developed the capacity to weather the storm of her son’s current behaviour, but I hope she’ll remember who he is inside, under all the chaos and anger, he is still her beautiful baby boy for whom she would, in a heartbeat, lay down her life if push came to shove.
In her letter to a parent, the psychotherapist and author Gretchen L Schmelzer PhD opens our eyes to the needs of our teenagers in a beautiful way. I hope that it helps you to stay with your teen when things are getting shaky, stay with the love, weather the storms and one day things will be better.
https://gretchenschmelzer.com/
Dear Parent:
This is the letter that I wish I could write.
This fight we are in right now. I need it. I need this fight. I can’t tell you this because I don’t have the language for it and it wouldn’t make sense anyway. But I need this fight. Badly. I need to hate you right now and I need you to survive it. I need you to survive my hating you and you hating me. I need this fight even though I hate it too. It doesn’t matter what this fight is even about: curfew, homework, laundry, my messy room, going out, staying in, leaving, not leaving, boyfriend, girlfriend, no friends, bad friends. It doesn’t matter. I need to fight you on it and I need you to fight me back.
I desperately need you to hold the other end of the rope. To hang on tightly while I thrash on the other end—while I find the handholds and footholds in this new world I feel like I am in. I used to know who I was, who you were, who we were. But right now I don’t. Right now I am looking for my edges and I can sometimes only find them when I am pulling on you. When I push everything I used to know to its edge. Then I feel like I exist and for a minute I can breathe. I know you long for the sweeter kid that I was. I know this because I long for that kid too, and some of that longing is what is so painful for me right now.
I need this fight and I need to see that no matter how bad or big my feelings are—they won’t destroy you or me. I need you to love me even at my worst, even when it looks like I don’t love you. I need you to love yourself and me for the both of us right now. I know it sucks to be disliked and labeled the bad guy. I feel the same way on the inside, but I need you to tolerate it and get other grownups to help you. Because I can’t right now. If you want to get all of your grown up friends together and have a ‘surviving-your-teenager-support-group-rage-fest’ that’s fine with me. Or talk about me behind my back--I don’t care. Just don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on this fight. I need it.
This is the fight that will teach me that my shadow is not bigger than my light. This is the fight that will teach me that bad feelings don’t mean the end of a relationship. This is the fight that will teach me how to listen to myself, even when it might disappoint others.
And this particular fight will end. Like any storm, it will blow over. And I will forget and you will forget. And then it will come back. And I will need you to hang on to the rope again. I will need this over and over for years.
I know there is nothing inherently satisfying in this job for you. I know I will likely never thank you for it or even acknowledge your side of it. In fact, I will probably criticize you for all this hard work. It will seem like nothing you do will be enough. And yet, I am relying entirely on your ability to stay in this fight. No matter how much I argue. No matter how much I sulk. No matter how silent I get.
Please hang on to the other end of the rope. And know that you are doing the most important job that anyone could possibly be doing for me right now.
Love, Your Teenager
*This is the tenth anniversary of the teen letter! This blog was originally published on June 23, 2015. The publication has been shared over 7 million times, has been published on other blogs, in magazine articles and books, It has been translated into ten languages that I know of , read by the famous French Actor, Franck Dubosc and has been made into dramatic pieces by church youth groups. I have received hundreds of letters from parents who figured out how to hang on to the rope when it was what was needed, and letters from people who were so grateful to parents who hung in there with them. I was lucky enough to have someone hold the rope for me when I was struggling through a particularly difficult stretch. The beautiful thing about someone holding the rope for you - about someone loving you anyway— is that it outlasts the particular struggle. You don’t remember what the fight was even about— but you carry the love forever.
© 2015/2025 Gretchen L Schmelzer PhD