Yesterday, my freshman daughter came home with news that sparked a meaningful conversation about balance, pressure, and well-being. Her teacher had pulled her aside to suggest moving up to honors classes next year, saying, “She didn’t think I was challenging myself enough.” I responded, “Well, that’s a compliment. But what do you think?” Her face fell as she shared her concerns: “I just don’t know how I can fit it in because everyone complains about how much extra work honors is. Taking it as a regular class this year gave me some breathing room and it was the one class I didn’t have to stress about. And next year I have driving school and cross country and all my other advanced classes. I have to volunteer for Key Club and I want to babysit to have spending money and . . .” Her list of responsibilities went on, revealing the immense pressure she felt.

Seeing her anxiety, I reassured her, “I guess we have our answer then. You are pretty busy already, so you don’t have to add to your schedule.” But she worried, “What about challenging myself? Like, are colleges going to be down on me because I didn’t take all honors classes?” In that moment, my daughter, who is growing into a young woman, looked small and vulnerable, like the scared toddler she once was. I couldn’t help but think: how much more challenged does she need to be? She’s already juggling long school days filled with advanced classes, struggling to get enough sleep, finding downtime amidst high school sports, and navigating the stress of college applications, peer pressure, social media, and the daily challenges of simply attending school safely.

While her teacher meant to encourage her, the suggestion only added to the pressure my daughter felt from the world around her—do more, work harder, take on every challenge. It’s not the teacher’s fault; she’s doing her job by recognizing potential, and she’s been a supportive educator. But my daughter’s reaction highlighted a broader issue: the overwhelming expectation placed on teens to constantly push their limits. As parents, my husband and I had encouraged her last year to challenge herself in subjects she loved, like math and science, while taking a balanced approach in other areas. Yet, with finals approaching and her schedule for next year looming, she was a pressure cooker, her anxiety palpable.

I believe we need to start viewing our kids holistically, choosing our words carefully to prioritize their mental health. Not every aspect of a teen’s life needs to be rigorous or competitive—most of us don’t thrive in such an environment, and our kids certainly don’t. I advised my daughter to stick with the grade-level course next year, recognizing that she’s already challenging herself in other areas and has found a good balance this year. While educators and coaches play a vital role in pushing kids to reach their potential, it’s our job as parents to help them see the big picture and understand that they don’t have to take on every challenge at once.

Shared by Whitney Fleming, this story isn’t just about a scheduling decision—it’s a call to rethink how we support our teens. I’m grateful for teachers who believe in my daughter’s potential, but I’m equally proud that she recognizes her own limits. Finding the balance between encouraging kids to grow and ensuring they don’t burn out is tough, but it starts with putting their mental health first. If stress keeps them awake at night, leads to self-harm, or worse, the “challenging” course, team, or responsibility they felt pressured to take on may not be worth it. I want my kids to push themselves, but above all, I hope they learn to prioritize their well-being—a lesson far more valuable than any honors class.