💔 When School Becomes Too Much: Understanding “School Can’t”

For some children, school isn’t just hard. It’s unbearable.

Not because they don’t want to learn, but because their bodies and nervous systems are screaming “not safe. ”What’s often labelled as “school refusal” is, for many, not a refusal at all—it’s a survival response. Their system is overwhelmed. Their stress response is on high alert. And they are doing the only thing they know to stay safe: they can’t go.

These children aren’t being dramatic. They’re not lazy. They’re being honest. And their honesty is expressed through shutdowns, meltdowns, or a silent, tearful stare at the floor.

They are not trying to escape school. They’re trying to escape fear, pain, and overwhelm.

🧠 What Might Be Happening Beneath the Surface?

When a child “can’t” attend school, we must ask: What is their body trying to protect them from?

Some common nervous system triggers include:

• 🌟 Sensory Overload The lunchroom buzzes, the classroom echoes, the lights flicker, the bell screams. For sensitive or neurodivergent children, it’s like being trapped inside a siren.

• 🖤 Unprocessed Trauma or Grief A recent loss, parental separation, medical trauma, or past bullying may resurface through the school environment. They may not be able to tell you—but their body remembers.

• ⚡ Relational Disconnection Feeling unsafe with peers, unsupported by teachers, or caught in adult conflict (e.g. family court, high-conflict co-parenting) can create a chronic sense of unease.

• 🧩 Neurodivergence and Miss-attunement Autism, ADHD, and other neurotypes often go unseen or unsupported in mainstream classrooms. The child is left camouflaging all day—exhausted, misunderstood, and burnt out.

Children may not yet have the words to name all of this. But their bodies speak loudly:

Tummy aches. Tight chests. Sleep disruption. Sudden tears. Frozen silence. Explosive rage. Begging not to go.

This is not bad behaviour—this is a body in distress.

❤️ How You Can Support Your Child at Home

Instead of enforcing attendance at all costs, shift the focus to:

✨ Safety.✨ Regulation.✨ Relationship.

When the nervous system feels safe, learning will return.

Here are trauma-informed, body-based, creative therapy-inspired strategies to gently support your child:

1. 🌿 Create a Home-Safe Space

A corner filled with softness, quiet, and care. Weighted cushions, calming music, cosy textures, familiar scents—create a place they can land without judgment. A nest for nervous systems.

2. 🎨 Draw Their School World

Invite your child to draw what school feels like. Is it a volcano? A maze? A sad cloud? Or what they wish school felt like—a garden? A treehouse? This allows expression when words are too much.

3. 🌈 Body Mapping Emotions

Using a paper figure or gingerbread outline, invite your child to colour where they feel school in their body. “Where does it sit?” Are their legs heavy? Is the heart fast? This builds emotional literacy—and a bridge to compassion.

4. 🫶 Co-Regulate, Don’t Correct

Instead of “You’re fine” or “You have to go”—try sitting close. Breathe together. Whisper, “I see this is really hard. I’m here. ”Let your steady presence be the medicine.

5. 📦 Tiny Transitions & Micro-Bridges

Don’t rush the return. Let the nervous system re-learn safety in small doses:

• Watch a video of their class

• Drive past the school while listening to favourite music

• Visit school after hours with no expectations

• Connect with one safe adult or peer via Zoom

Every step is a step forward—even if it’s small.

✨ A Note to Parents and Carers

You are not failing.

In fact, you are doing the opposite—you are listening to your child when the world refuses to. You are creating space for their truth, not punishing their pain. You are offering relationship, not reaction. This is how healing begins.

School “can’t” is not the end of their learning—it is a sacred pause. A plea for nervous system safety.

And with time, presence, and the right supports, children do begin to trust again. They feel safe again .And when they do, learning follows.

You are not alone. And your child is not broken. They are tender, wise, and sensitive—and they are showing us what needs to heal.