How to Balance Advocacy and Letting Your Child Be a Kid
How to Balance Advocacy and Letting Your Child Be a Kid
Being a parent is a journey filled with both fierce love and deep responsibility. When you’re a parent of a child with a disability, that journey often includes a powerful role as an advocate—fighting for access, support, inclusion, and understanding. But amid the meetings, therapies, Individualized Education Programs (IEPs), and navigating complex systems, there’s a tender truth many parents wrestle with:
How do you balance advocacy with simply letting your child be a kid?
Let’s talk about this delicate dance—one filled with love, protection, and hope. Because while advocacy is essential, so is childhood. And yes, you can have both.
Daily Challenges Parents Face
Parents of children with disabilities—whether physical, cognitive, developmental, or sensory—often face overlapping yet unique challenges. Here are some common struggles when trying to balance advocacy with letting a child simply enjoy being a kid:
1. Over-Scheduling with Therapies
For children with conditions like autism, Down syndrome, cerebral palsy, or speech/language delays, therapy becomes a central part of life. Occupational therapy, physical therapy, speech sessions—schedules quickly fill up.
The struggle: There's pressure to “maximize potential,” but that can lead to burnout—both for the child and the family.
2. Constantly Explaining or Defending Your Child
Parents of children with invisible disabilities (like ADHD, dyslexia, or anxiety) often feel the need to explain behaviors or advocate for understanding in social situations, even among extended family or on the playground.
The struggle: You want your child to be accepted, but you also don’t want every interaction to be a teachable moment or battle.
3. Navigating Inaccessible or Uninclusive Activities
Families of children with physical disabilities or sensory processing differences frequently encounter environments not built with them in mind—whether it’s a summer camp, birthday party, or local sports league.
The struggle: You find yourself constantly evaluating: Is this even possible for my child? Will they feel excluded? Do I fight for access, or let this one go?
4. Internalized Pressure to “Fix”
Parents often feel immense pressure to "fix" what society sees as deficits. For kids with intellectual disabilities or neurodivergent profiles, this can unconsciously shift the parent’s mindset away from appreciating who the child is now.
The struggle: It becomes easy to view childhood through a lens of “goals” and “delays” rather than joy and presence.
5. Fear of Missing Out on Childhood
Many parents worry that in advocating for inclusion or pushing development, their child is missing the simplicity of play, wonder, and fun that should define childhood.
The struggle: You want your child to grow, but you also want them to laugh, explore, and just be a kid.
Hopeful Solutions to Find Balance
The good news? Families are finding ways every day to bring advocacy and childhood into harmony. Here are a few hopeful practices:
1. Create Therapy-Free Zones or Days
Set aside specific days or times that are completely free from structured interventions. Let your child choose what to do—be it art, Minecraft, swinging outside, or watching their favorite show.
Balance Tip: Even skipping one therapy session a month for a “child-led” day can make a difference in restoring joy and autonomy.
2. Choose Advocacy Opportunities That Empower, Not Exhaust
Not every moment requires a battle. It’s okay to choose your advocacy moments based on your child’s well-being, your bandwidth, and the long game.
Balance Tip: Sometimes, saying “no” to a fight is saying “yes” to peace at home.
3. Focus on Strength-Based Development
Instead of solely targeting deficits, explore your child’s interests and strengths. A child who struggles with traditional reading might thrive with audiobooks or storytelling. A kid who’s nonverbal might love art, movement, or music.
Balance Tip: Childhood isn’t a checklist of milestones—it’s an unfolding of self.
4. Model Joy and Rest
Children, especially those with disabilities, are highly attuned to adult emotions. Show them that rest, laughter, and imperfection are not only allowed—they’re celebrated.
Balance Tip: Make room for silliness. It’s therapy for the soul.
5. Build a Community of “Yes”
Surround your child with people—friends, teachers, therapists—who say “yes” to them. Who see their potential and want to help them be included in everyday fun, from school dances to sleepovers to game nights.
Balance Tip: One supportive friend or teacher can be the key to unlocking true childhood joy.
Real-World Inspiration
Across communities, there are incredible examples of families and advocates doing this beautifully:
The “Just Like You” Project in Kansas City created inclusive video stories featuring children with Down syndrome and autism, showing them engaging in play, school, and sports—normalizing disability while celebrating childhood.
Camp For All in Texas offers barrier-free camps for kids with a wide range of medical and developmental needs, letting them swim, ride horses, and do archery in a space designed with accessibility in mind.
Sinead Burke, a little person and global disability advocate, speaks of how her parents prioritized both advocacy and letting her be a child: encouraging her to try things, dream big, and play—even while they fought hard behind the scenes for her inclusion in school and society.
Parents on TikTok and Instagram like @thatdadblog or @shanelle_reneé share moments of joy and laughter with their kids with disabilities—not as inspiration porn, but as life: messy, beautiful, and real.
A Closing Message of Love and Support
If you're a parent reading this, here’s what you need to hear:
You are doing a phenomenal job.
Balancing advocacy and childhood is not easy—it’s an evolving art. But the very fact that you’re trying means your child is being raised with love, intention, and dignity. You don’t have to do it all. You just have to be present.
Let your child splash in puddles. Skip a session for a movie marathon. Laugh until your stomach hurts. Then, when the moment is right, pick up the advocacy again—because both matter.
You’re not alone. And you’re not failing. You’re living this journey with courage and heart. And that, above all else, is more than enough.
For all the moments you speak up and all the moments you just let them play...thank you. 🧡
