When Teens & Young Adults Fail
- Anna Kashner
- 17 hours ago
- 5 min read

While this blog is about the topic of failure, the word failure is so loaded and so negative that I almost never use it. Instead I like to think of any setback in life as a learning opportunity (once I process my emotions around it). This is how I approach "failures" that my coaching clients experience and how I aspire to approach "failures" that my child encounters in life. Please keep reading to learn more about how our reponse to our kids' failures can make a big difference.
What to Do and Not Do When Your Teen or Young Adult "Fails".
The rejection letter arrives. The grade comes back worse than expected. They get cut from the team. Your teen or young adult walks in the door or gives you a call and you can see it on their face or hear it in their sigh before they say a word. In my case I got a text from my daughter’s smart watch in the middle of the school day: mom I didn’t get it. My heart dropped, I felt so bad for her, and if I’m honest, a little bad for myself. Both because I wanted her to have success and get something that she wanted, and if I’m being honest (again), so I could have something positive to share about her with my friends and community.
What most of us weren't taught is that failure isn't the problem. How we respond to it is. What happens next after our kids share the news with us, what we say, how we look, whether we move toward them or toward our phone to start fixing things, all this matters more than most parents realize.
We've Been Thinking About it Wrong
In an era of schedules, advocacy, and every safety net imaginable, we've accidentally sent our kids a message we never intended: hard things shouldn't happen to you, and when they do, someone will remove them.
But neuroscience tells a different story. Working through difficulty, not around it, is what actually strengthens the brain pathways responsible for problem-solving, emotional regulation, and persistence. Easy wins feel good. They just don't build much.
Here's what failure, handled well, does for your teen or young adult:
It teaches them to read themselves accurately, to know their real strengths and gaps rather than the curated version. It calibrates their relationship with risk, so they're neither paralyzed by it nor reckless with it. And it builds the only kind of confidence that actually travels with them into adulthood, not the kind built on praise, but the kind built on I've been through something hard, and I came out the other side. And, I know I can handle this feeling again (and get through it).
Carol Dweck's research on growth mindset has shown this consistently for decades: kids who learn to see failure as information rather than identity outperform their peers across academic, athletic, and professional settings. Not because they fail less, but because they relate to failure differently.
Our job as parents isn't to prevent failure. It's to make sure failure doesn't become the end of the story.
The Traps We Fall Into
Most parents don't respond badly because we don't care. We respond badly because we care too much and act too fast. Watch out for these:
The Silver Lining. Jumping to "everything happens for a reason" before your young person feels heard doesn't comfort them, it signals that their feelings are an inconvenience to get past.
Comparing. "When I was your age, I failed too and turned out fine" centers your experience, not theirs. Even if it's meant to normalize, it rarely lands that way.
Fix-It Mode. Immediately problem-solving, calling the coach, emailing the teacher, mapping out a plan, tells them two things: their feelings don't matter, and you don't think they can handle it.
Minimizing. "It's not that big a deal" is well-intentioned and almost always makes things worse. To their developing brain, it is that big a deal. Telling them otherwise doesn't help them feel better, it just makes them feel alone in it.
What to Do Instead
Here is a sequence we can follow:
First, pause. Give yourself three seconds before you respond. Your calm is contagious. So is your panic.
Then name what you see, not what you think. "You seem really disappointed" opens a door. "I know you're devastated" closes it. Let them correct you. That's the point.
Sit in it with them, briefly. You don't have to fix it in the first conversation. "This really stings, and that makes complete sense" is enough to start. Resist the pull to move past the feeling too quickly.
Ask before advising. Try: "Do you want me to just listen, or are you looking for ideas?" This one question gives them control and almost always leads to a better conversation than launching into advice they didn't ask for.
Come back to it later. The best processing rarely happens in the heat of the moment. Revisit it 24–48 hours later with something low-pressure: "I've been thinking about what happened, how are you feeling about it now?"
Model it. How you respond when you don’t get the promotion, or didn’t get into the program, or even didn’t get an invite to something you wanted teaches your kids how they should handle it.
Questions That Open Doors
When your young person is ready to talk, and only then, these questions can help shift them from judgment mode into curiosity mode. You don't need all of them. Pick one or two that feel natural.
To separate who they are from what happened:
"Does this say something about who you are, or about where you are right now?"
To find the information inside the failure:
"What did you learn about yourself from this, even if it's uncomfortable?"
"What would you do differently, and what would you actually keep the same?"
To build forward momentum:
"What's one small thing that would make you feel like you're moving again?"
"What does the next chapter look like, the one where this becomes something you learned from?"
A Note for Parents of Young Adults
If your child is 18–25, the same principles apply with one important addition: they need your presence more than your perspective, and they need permission to take the lead. Try "I'm not trying to fix it, I'm just curious how you're making sense of it" instead of offering your read on the situation. And if avoidance or hopelessness lingers for more than a few weeks, that's worth paying attention to.
When It Keeps Happening, or Goes Deeper
Sometimes a single failure is just a bad day. But sometimes it's part of a longer pattern, repeated avoidance, a shrinking willingness to try new things, a narrative of "I'm just not good at anything" that starts to stick. That's when outside support can make a real difference. The coaching I do at Bolster Coaching offers teens and young adults something that's hard for even the most well-intentioned parent to provide: a neutral, non-evaluative relationship with someone whose only agenda is helping them figure themselves out. I don’t tell them what to do, I ask the kinds of questions that help your teen or young adult hear their own thinking more clearly, identify what's getting in their way, and build the skills to move forward on their own terms. For teens who've started to associate failure with their identity, that kind of consistent, strengths-based support can be genuinely transformative.
The goal isn't to raise a kid who never fails. It's to raise one who knows failure isn't the end of the story, and that you're a safe person to come to when it happens.
Every time you resist the urge to rescue and instead stay curious and calm, you're teaching them something no classroom can: that hard things are survivable, and that they have what it takes to figure it out.




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