The irony wasn’t lost on me. After years of researching how parents manage work-family boundaries while caring for children with mental health needs, I found myself facing the same decision that I had studied countless times before: how to disclose my child’s mental health crisis to my workplace.
The Expert Becomes the Subject
For over a decade, I’ve interviewed parents about their disclosure decisions. I’ve analyzed the patterns, documented the struggles, and published the findings. I thought I understood the complexity of these moments. Then, last week, my child was hospitalized for a mental health crisis, and I realized that understanding something academically is vastly different from living it.
The Decision No Parent Plans to Make
When the hospital call came, my social worker (and researcher) brain immediately kicked in. I needed to:
- Assess the situation
- Determine support needs
- Evaluate available resources
- Develop a disclosure strategy
But my parent heart was racing. This wasn’t a research subject’s story to analyze. This was my child, my career, my moment of vulnerability.
When Theory Meets Practice
The data tells us that parents often struggle with disclosure decisions due to:
- Fear of stigma (or worse, discrimination)
- Concerns about career impact
- Uncertainty about responses from co-workers and bosses
- Desire to maintain privacy and “feel normal”
I’ve addressed these points in numerous academic papers. Now, each one carried the weight of personal significance. Despite knowing the research, despite understanding the theories of work-family boundary management, I still found myself hesitating before making that first disclosure. As a professor of social work, I teach my students to look at their clients with empathy, as a mother of a child in crisis, I wondered if my students could see beyond my teaching role and understand that I was needed elsewhere.
The Vulnerability We Don’t Talk About
Here’s what the research doesn’t fully capture: the moment before disclosure when you’re trying to find the right words. The way your voice might shake slightly, even when you’ve rehearsed the conversation. The profound vulnerability of being both a professional social worker, work-family and disability researcher and a parent in crisis.
As a social worker and researcher, I knew the best practices:
- Be clear about needs
- Focus on specific accommodations
- Maintain professional boundaries
- Document conversations
As a parent, I just wanted support and understanding.
Breaking the Silence
So why am I sharing this now? Because our research shows that one of the most powerful factors in helping parents make disclosure decisions is knowing they’re not alone. Every day, parents of children with mental health needs navigate these complex boundaries between work and family life.
Some days we do it gracefully, drawing on professional knowledge and careful planning. Other days, we do it imperfectly, learning as we go. Both experiences are valid. Both stories need to be told. For this crisis, I used disclosure carefully. My students were only told the roughest outlines, my colleagues were given the complete account. Because I needed more flexibility than my regular hours allow, I had to tell HR a bit but not everything.
Moving Forward Together
This blog will be a space where research meets reality. Where we examine the intersection of professional expertise and personal experience. Where we acknowledge that even with all the knowledge in the world, these moments of crisis and disclosure are challenging.
For the parents reading this who have made similar decisions: I see you. For those who are contemplating disclosure: you’re not alone. And for the professionals working to support families like ours: thank you for creating spaces where these conversations can happen.
A New Chapter
As I continue my research on work-family boundaries and exceptional caregiving, I do so with a deeper understanding of the lived experience behind the data. Each interview I conduct now carries new meaning. Each finding feels more personal.
This is where my story as a researcher intersects with my journey as a parent. It’s messy and complex, but it’s real. And perhaps that’s exactly what we need more of in both our research and our conversations about mental health: authenticity, vulnerability, and hope.
Next week, I’ll share the specific strategies I used to plan my disclosure conversation, including the framework I developed combining research insights with practical experience. Subscribe to join me on this journey of bridging the gap between academic knowledge and lived experience.