04/04/2026
This quote by Marianne Franke-Gricksch, a systemic practitioner, can land a bit hard at first. It did for me. As a mother, everything in me wants to help, to step in, to make things better for my daughter.
Recently, something came up for her that really shook me. I could feel myself go straight into fix-it mode. My mind started racing… what support does she need, who do I call, what appointments do I book, how do I make this easier for her? In the middle of that, a very beautiful wise woman said to me, “You can’t fix this for her.”
I felt it land slowly. At first, there was resistance. And then, I let my shoulders drop, surrendering to this difficult truth with a big exhale and the words "Yes, I know." Something in me knew she was right. It didn’t mean I don’t support my daughter. Of course I do. She still needs guidance, care, and the right supports around her as she navigates what she’s going through. But it shifted something deeper in me. It brought me back to the question… how do I stay anchored? How do I be a place she can lean into for connection, guidance, and loving boundaries, without trying to take this experience away from her?
And the truth is, it brings me back to myself.
What I’m noticing is how much this is asking of me as a mother. It’s stretching my capacity. It’s also bringing me face to face with parts of my own past: memories from when I was her age, or a bit older, as a teenager. There is suffering there. But there is also an invitation for the adult in me to turn towards those younger parts of myself. To acknowledge what was painful. And to give myself what I didn’t have in those moments.
For me, that looks like slowing down. Rest. Long hot showers. Listening to music that lets me feel. Talking things through with my closest friends. Sitting with my therapist. Letting myself cry when the emotion needs to move. None of this is about stepping away from my daughter. It’s actually what allows me to stay with her. To not get pulled into panic or urgency. To hold steadier ground.
So when I read, “Never help your daughter. That weakens her. Help yourself,” I don’t hear it as harsh anymore. I hear it as a reminder. That what I give to myself matters.
In the systemic sense, I am the source she drinks from. When I turn toward my own healing and nourish the woman in me, I ensure the mother is full. By clearing my own path, I allow the life-force to flow to her unobstructed: clear, steady, and strong. Whatever I give to myself, she receives too; not just as a gift of the present, but as a blueprint for how she will meet herself and her life in the future.