Pushing Your Tween or Teen Too Hard? 12 Signs to Watch

There’s a question I hear from moms all the time, sometimes out loud and sometimes just in the way they talk about their kids:

Am I pushing my kid too hard?

And honestly? It’s one of the hardest questions to answer. Because most of us aren’t pushing out of meanness or pride. We push because we love our kids. We see what they’re capable of, and we want them to have options. None of us wants them to look back one day with regret.

But we’re also raising kids in a culture that is obsessed with achievement.

Grades. GPAs. Travel teams. Honors classes. Test scores. Resumes that start in middle school.

And somewhere in all of that, it’s so easy to forget about the things that matter most. Character. Mental health. Time. Fun. Rest.

I’ve been doing this work for a long time, and I see it over and over again. Kids who are anxious and exhausted. Kids who feel like they are only as good as their last report card.

And moms who love them so much, and don’t quite know where the line is.

To What End?

Let me say this clearly: there is nothing wrong with wanting your kids to do their best.

Effort matters. Follow-through matters. Learning to do hard things matters.

But here’s the question I want us to sit with:

To what end?

What does “their best” actually look like? And what is it costing them?

If our kids are getting straight A’s but they’re wrought with anxiety and stress…

If they’re making the team but they’ve forgotten how to have fun…

And if they believe their worth is tied to their performance…

Is that really what we want?

I don’t think it is. I don’t think any of us set out to raise kids who only feel worthy when they’re achieving. But that’s the message they can absorb when achievement is the loudest thing in our homes.

Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost the art of just being with our kids. Of fun, of rest, of unscheduled Saturday afternoons. We push, and push, and push. And so many of our kids are running on empty.

So what do we want instead?

I want kids who know they are loved for who they are, not for what they do. Kids who can work hard and rest well. I want them to have character, kindness, resilience, and joy, and to know they are okay even when they fail at something.

That’s the goal. Grades are just one small piece of it.

What the Research Says: Effort and Growth Matter More Than the Grade

Here’s something that surprises a lot of moms. The research doesn’t point to grades as the thing to focus on. It points to effort and growth.

In a well-known set of studies, psychologists Claudia Mueller and Carol Dweck praised fifth graders in one of two ways after they solved some puzzles. Some kids heard, in effect, “You must be really smart.” Others heard, “You must have worked really hard.” The kids praised for being smart were more likely to choose easier puzzles next time, gave up sooner when things got hard, enjoyed the work less, and did worse after a setback. The kids praised for effort were more willing to take on a challenge. (Mueller & Dweck, 1998)

This is the heart of what Dr. Dweck calls a growth mindset: the belief that our abilities aren’t fixed. They grow with effort, good strategies, and help from others.

And it matters in the tween and teen years too. A national study of about 12,000 ninth graders found that a short online lesson teaching growth mindset improved grades for lower-achieving students and led more students to sign up for harder math classes. It worked best in schools where the peer culture supported taking on challenges. (Yeager et al., 2019, Nature)

To be honest, growth mindset isn’t magic. The effects in the research are real but modest. But the direction is clear. When we make grades the scoreboard, kids learn to protect their image. When we make effort and growth the scoreboard, kids learn they’re allowed to try, stumble, and keep going.

What That Sounds Like at Home

So what does that sound like at home?

With your tween: “I saw how you kept working on that project even when it got frustrating. That’s what I’m proud of.”
With your teen: “That class is hard, and you didn’t quit. Whatever the grade ends up being, I see how much you’re putting in.”
With either one, after a disappointment: “What did you learn? What would you try differently next time?”

Notice what’s missing from all of those? The grade. And the word “smart.”

The Signs You Might Be Pushing Too Hard

So how do we know? Here are some of the signs I see most often. Not one of these alone means something is wrong. But if several of them sound familiar, it’s worth pausing.

In Your Kid

They’re anxious or stressed most of the time. Stomachaches before tests, trouble sleeping, tears over one bad grade, or a constant low hum of worry.
Their sense of worth rises and falls with their performance. A good grade means “I’m good.” A bad one means “I’m a failure.” Listen for “I’m so stupid” or “I’m never going to be good enough.”
They’ve stopped having fun. The things they used to love now feel like obligations. They rarely play, create, or goof off just because.
They’re exhausted. Late nights, early mornings, and no margin anywhere in the week.
They hide things from you. A grade they don’t show you, a test they don’t mention. Often that’s not sneakiness. It’s fear of disappointing you.
They’re afraid to try new things. If failing feels dangerous, kids play it safe. They stop taking risks, and they stop growing.
They’re shutting down. Some kids push back hard. Others just check out. Disengagement is often self-protection, not laziness.

In You

Most of your conversations are about school, grades, or performance. Think about the last five real conversations you had with your child. How many were about something else?
You’re overly focused on their grades. If getting A’s has become the goal in your home, your kids will feel it.
You feel embarrassed or anxious when they don’t measure up to other kids, siblings, or the plan you had in your head.
Rest feels like wasted time. When they’re lying on the couch, it makes you uneasy.
You’re chasing a future, not raising the kid in front of you. College, scholarships, “what this will mean later” drive most decisions.

If you saw yourself in a few of these, please hear me: you are not a bad mom. You’re a mom who cares deeply, living in a culture that tells us to care about all the wrong scoreboards. Noticing it is the first step.

What to Do Instead

This doesn’t mean we stop caring about effort. It means we get our priorities back in the right order. Here are a few places to start.

1. Lead with connection, not correction. Before you ask about the grade, ask about them. How are you, really? What was the best part of your day? What’s weighing on you?

2. Separate their worth from their work. Say it out loud and often: “I love you no matter what grade is on that paper.” Our kids need to hear it more than we think.

3. Protect rest and fun like they’re on the calendar. Because they should be. A free afternoon, a family game night, a walk with no agenda. Rest isn’t a reward for achievement. It’s something every human needs.

4. Praise the things that don’t show up on a report card. Kindness. Honesty. Courage. The way they stuck with a friend. The way they tried something scary. What we notice, they learn to value. And these are the things God cares about most. Scripture reminds us that people look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). A report card measures one small slice of our kids. God sees all of who they are.

When You’re Worried About Effort

5. Get curious before you get concerned. When effort drops, it’s so tempting to lecture. I love what Dr. Becky Kennedy of Good Inside says about this. When we bring up effort, kids often translate it as “you think I’m lazy. I’m not enough.” And once they feel that, they stop listening and start defending. I couldn’t agree more. So instead of a big talk about what they’re doing wrong, start with curiosity.

For a tween, that might sound like:

“Hey, how’s school feeling lately? Not the grades, just how it feels to you.”

For a teen:

“I’m not upset, and this isn’t about the grade. I just want to understand what school feels like for you right now. What’s the hardest part?”

Then give them room. Tweens and teens often need time to think it over, and it’s okay if the conversation picks back up later.

6. Search your own heart. This one’s hard, but it matters. Whose dream is this? Is it your dream, or is it theirs? Is some of my pushing about my own fears, my past, my story, or what other people will think? I love the prayer in Psalm 139: “Search me, God, and know my heart.” When we get honest with ourselves and with God, we’re so much more free to love our kids well.

A Few Questions to Sit With This Week

If my child grew up believing just one thing about their worth, what would I want it to be?
What does my child think I care about most? (Maybe ask them!)
When was the last time we had fun together with no agenda?
Where does my child have real rest in their week?
Is any of my pushing about my fears rather than their needs?

Here’s what I know after all these years of raising three kids and walking alongside so many moms: our kids will not remember their seventh-grade GPA. But they will remember how they felt in our home. Whether it was a place where they could fall apart and still be loved. Whether it was a place they could rest.

I believe God made our kids with a purpose, and it’s so much bigger than a transcript. Our job isn’t to squeeze every ounce of potential out of them. It’s to love them, guide them, and help them become who they were created to be.

So let’s keep encouraging our kids to do their best. And let’s make sure they know, deep down, that they are already enough.

xo Sheryl