About a year ago, I started working with a young track and field athlete. We had a good first session — calm, curious, without pressure. Not long after, I received a message from his mother. He had withdrawn mid-competition, despite being physically fine. According to her, he had seemed overwhelmed and emotionally shut down. She described the situation as urgent, suspected deeper psychological issues, and asked if we could meet sooner than scheduled.

What stood out wasn’t the content of the message — it was the intensity. The fear. The need to act immediately.

And I understand that. When something seems off with your child, the instinct to help kicks in fast. But in sport psychology, we’re often in a different role. We don’t match urgency with urgency. We hold space. We slow things down. We pay attention to patterns, not panic.

What I’ve learned over the years:

• Most parents are doing their best.
• Most don’t realize when their concern becomes controlling.
• And many don’t see that their own stress is being transferred — sometimes wordlessly — onto their child.

That’s why part of our job is not just working with the athlete, but also around them. Helping parents reflect on what support actually feels like from the athlete’s perspective. Reframing good intentions. Setting boundaries with compassion.

Because sometimes, the work isn’t just about performance. It’s about protecting the space that allows growth to happen.

And that’s the thing — when we work with junior athletes, we’re never just working with them alone. Even when we meet in one-on-one settings, their parents are part of the system — shaping how sport is experienced, understood, and emotionally processed.

Research and practice suggest that parents take on three core roles in their children’s sporting journey:

1. Role Model Parents model how to handle success, failure, effort, and emotion. Whether they realize it or not, their behaviors teach athletes how to interpret winning, losing, and pressure. A parent who stays calm and grounded after a loss signals resilience. A parent who rants about poor refereeing might unintentionally teach blame or avoidance.
2. Provider of Experience This includes tangible and emotional resources: time, money, transport, encouragement, structure. Parents who create a supportive environment make it easier for athletes to engage with sport meaningfully. But sometimes, the desire to give everything turns into over-involvement — and creates more stress than support.
3. Interpreter of Experience Perhaps the most subtle role. Parents help athletes make sense of what happens in sport. They shape how setbacks are framed (“That was a disaster” vs. “You were brave to keep trying”), how emotions are normalized, and how values like effort, fairness, and self-worth are understood.

When any of these roles become distorted — often unintentionally — the athlete can feel conflicted, confused, or pressured. That’s when symptoms start to appear: tension, drops in performance, frustration, even withdrawal.

As mentioned, I often hear:

“She can’t handle stress.” “He needs to be mentally tougher.” “She chokes when it matters.”

But those are not always the real problems. They’re signs — of something underneath. And sometimes, what’s underneath is this:

The athlete is under pressure to meet not just their own goals — but their parent’s expectations, too.

The challenge? That pressure isn’t always loud or obvious. It might come through tone. Through frequent check-ins. Through disappointment that lingers too long. And because parents mean well, they rarely see it as pressure at all.

That’s why part of our job is to look gently behind the problem. To ask: “Where is this stress coming from? Whose stress is it, really?” What is the problem behind the problem?

I am convinced, that by supporting both athletes and their parents — with compassion, clarity, and good boundaries — we can help the whole system breathe a little easier.

Parents are not the problem. But they’re sometimes (often?) part of the pressure.

That’s why, when I work with junior athletes, I don’t just focus on the athlete in isolation. From the beginning, I make it clear that parents are part of the process — not to observe or steer it, but to better understand their own role in it.

One approach I’ve found helpful: I offer — and in some cases, strongly recommend — regular sessions just for parents. Sometimes that’s just a single conversation early on. Other times, it becomes a more regular check-in. It depends on how the collaboration develops — but the door is open and the parents are integrated in the work.

And here’s what I’ve noticed every time: Parents are often deeply relieved. They come in thinking the problem lies with the athlete — and leave with a new understanding of how their own stress, fears, and hopes are shaping the emotional climate around their child.

These sessions give parents space to:

• Reflect on their intentions vs. their impact
• Understand how their stress might transfer to their child
• Learn to support without overstepping
• Let go of the pressure to “fix” everything immediately

It’s not about assigning blame — it’s about opening up shared awareness.

Because when parents feel seen, supported, and less alone, I have experienced that they become more grounded. And when they are more grounded, their children have more room to grow.

To wrap up: working with junior athletes means working within a system — and parents are often one of the most powerful forces in that system. When we integrate them thoughtfully, with clear boundaries and a sense of shared purpose, we can reduce pressure, strengthen trust, and create an environment where young athletes can truly thrive.

In that situation with the track and field athlete, I stayed firm on the timing of our next session — even though the mother’s urgency was understandable. I acknowledged her concerns, reassured her that I was taking them seriously, and explained why a calm, structured approach would be more helpful than rushing in.

When the athlete and I finally met again, the space we created — free from panic or pressure — allowed the athlete to open up in a way that might not have been possible otherwise (at least I believe).

I know, it’s not always easy. But it’s worth it. Because parents are one of the biggest assets junior athletes have. So we need to find a way to integrate them in the best way possible!

How do you approach the parent–athlete dynamic in your own work? Have you found strategies that work — or moments that challenged you? I’d love to hear and learn from your perspective.