Why I Thought Time Would Fix My Kids’ Symptoms — and Why Waiting Changed Nothing
Time passed, but the pattern stayed.
I leaned on time more than anything else.
Kids go through phases. Bodies change. Nervous systems mature.
So I waited — expecting time to smooth what felt rough.
Waiting felt responsible. It didn’t feel like avoidance.
Time passing didn’t mean my kids’ bodies were recovering — it meant they were adapting.
Why Time Feels Like the Safest Answer
Time requires no decisions.
No disruption. No confrontation. No risk of overreacting.
Waiting felt calm compared to questioning the environment my kids lived in every day.
Time promises resolution without demanding action.
Waiting felt neutral, but it wasn’t inactive.
When Symptoms Persist Without Escalating
Nothing dramatically worsened.
But nothing truly resolved either.
This mirrored the same quiet persistence I wrote about in why my kids’ symptoms never fully disappeared.
Stability can hide stagnation.
The absence of decline made it easier to accept the status quo.
Why Growth Didn’t Bring Relief
I assumed maturity would help.
That bigger bodies and better coping would smooth the edges.
Instead, the expressions changed — but the strain remained.
Growth doesn’t cancel environmental load.
My kids grew, but their nervous systems were still working around the same stressor.
How Contrast Made Waiting Feel Incomplete
The shift came when time away from home helped more than time itself.
A few days elsewhere brought relief that months of waiting never did.
This echoed what I described in why my kids’ symptoms quieted when we left the house.
Change revealed what time alone couldn’t touch.
Relief tied to location made waiting feel less sufficient.
What Changed When I Stopped Trusting Time Alone
I didn’t panic.
I widened the question.
I stopped asking whether enough time had passed and started asking what time kept circling.
Repetition matters more than duration.
Seeing what stayed the same shifted how I understood progress.