The shutdown
What adults miss
The hidden pain
What you can do
What safety looks like
Space without abandonment
Everyday practice
Rebuilding trust

TL;DR: Kids who say “I don’t care” often care too much.
Their detachment is protection from pain, not defiance.
When we give them calm space and stay present — without pushing — we become their safe person.
And from that safety, regulation and trust begin to grow again.


“𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒.”
𝑆ℎ𝑟𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠.
𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑡𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛.
𝑅𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑠𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘.

That’s what I see almost every day… and it drives the grown-ups up the wall.

Yesterday, I had a meeting about how to support some of “those” kids better in school.
It happened because of one child who exploded just before the holidays … and kept me “busy” the entire day in person… and for the next few days on my mind.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧-𝐮𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝

You see… the “I don’t care, you call my parents” – kids are almost never the ones who truly don’t care.

𝐼𝑡’𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒.

They care too much. So much that they’ve learned to hide it.

Because they already know what will happen …
that their parents 𝑤𝑜𝑛’𝑡 defend them,
𝑤𝑜𝑛’𝑡 ask what really happened,
maybe 𝑤𝑜𝑛’𝑡 even see them.

S𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛…
𝑏𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛’𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟.

By detaching from the feeling before it can hurt too much.

They have the feeling … maybe stronger than anyone else.
They just can’t afford to feel it, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒.

I wish I could change their home situation. In some cases, I can … but in most cases, I can’t.

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝐝𝐨

is to be that one person who cares more about the child than their own parents do at times.

And when “those” children know they have somebody who truly cares look what happens:

When they feel they’re not well … that they’re about to explode, that everything and everyone is too much … instead of going into anger or avoidance mode, they come to the safe person before things happen.

What they get is a small dose of connection … and they come out calm and regulated.

𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚.

Sometimes we talk.
Sometimes I just give them calm space
where they don’t have to talk … they can 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬
𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 …

so they can breathe,
find their calm,
reorganize their thoughts,
and come up with what feels right for them.

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒…
you give them space, but you stay available.
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒-𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟.

When they feel ready, they will find you.
While they calm down, you stay grounded in calm energy yourself.

𝐀𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, that might look like folding some clothes in the same room, reading a book, or simply breathing quietly nearby.

You’re not pushing.
You’re just being there … steady, safe, present.

𝐀𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥, it might be a cozy corner where you quietly read or do your own work …
and when the child is ready to talk, you’ll be there.

Because safety isn’t about words.
It’s about energy.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧.

𝐼𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑟ℎ𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑚.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 … 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 … 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭