Welcome to Tough Love. We’re answering your questions about dating, breakups, and everything in between. Our advice giver is Blair Braverman, dogsled racer and author of and . Have a question of your own? Write to us at toughlove@outsideinc.com.
My husband and I have been married for 20 years. Our relationship has always been very outdoors-oriented. We hiked, biked, cross-country skied, etc. frequently, and we loved to travel. Then eight years ago, we became foster parents to (and later adopted) a six-year-old. At first, kiddo went on all our adventures, which we dialed back to their abilities. They learned to bike and cross-country ski, went canoe camping, hiked all kinds of mountains and visited a bunch of national parks. Kiddo is now 14 and childhood trauma has reared its head, leading to severe depression and anxiety. (The pandemic didn’t help.) Coupled with general adolescent angst, Kiddo often refuses to do activities (“Go without me,” which we can’t because they can’t be left unsupervised, especially for long periods of time) or sabotages them with difficult behavior. We understand what’s happening and even sympathize, but we’re unhappy without our adventures, which formed such a core to our relationship but also our individual identities. I’ve encouraged my husband to get out on his own, but he feels that this is abandoning me to solo parenting of a very difficult kid. He’s encouraged me to get out, but I don’t really want to do daylong trips on my own. We don’t have backup care for Kiddo—we don’t have friends or family who can handle their behaviors, which include panic attacks and self-harm. How do we survive this very difficult (and potentially very long) season? Right now we’re snatching a few hours here and there to get out individually and occasionally forcing Kiddo on a short hike, but it’s not the same.
This sounds like such a challenging situation, and also one that’s particularly humbling for an advice column, because in no way do I presume to know the answers better than you do. But I can offer some brainstorming about outdoor options that might fit the parameters you’re working with right now, and that could help a little when it comes to meeting your needs as people, a family, and a couple. I’m sure you’ve already considered some of these, and others might not be realistic, but maybe something will spark an idea.
There are three rough options here, and it sounds like all of them are imperfect. You can go out as a family, but your kid finds this difficult. You can go out as a couple, but not for long, because your kid needs supervision. And you and your husband can go out individually, leaving the other at home, but this can be lonely and guilt-inducing, and it’s not nearly as fun or fulfilling as doing things together. I think it’s worth looking at each of these options individually, and seeing if there’s anything that could make them more tenable.
One: Going out as a family. Is there anything your kid would enjoy? Maybe a more “exciting” activity, like snowboarding or horseback riding (if your budget allows)? Is there a chance they’d feel more motivated about non-outdoorsy excursions, like going to a virtual reality arcade or a concert? Of course, these aren’t the same as a long hike, and I don’t mean to suggest that they are, but they’re still something—and if you can’t spend much time outside, getting out of your routine and experiencing new things can help scratch part of the same itch. Also, are there things that would make those activities more appealing or realistic for your kid, like bringing a friend along, or, if they’re artsy, getting a film camera and documenting things along the way?
If your kid is willing to try an excursion, but is scared of panicking or feeling trapped, you could try promising ahead of time that as soon as they want to go home, you will. Knowing that they can leave at any time—for real—might help them find the courage to go out in the first place. And as frustrating as it can be to get to the trailhead and then turn around, that’s still more progress than if you’d stayed home the whole time. Maybe next time you’ll be able to go a quarter mile down the trail. (For readers struggling with their own anxiety, the same principle applies. Going out and then going home is still an accomplishment, even if you didn’t get as far as you’d hoped.)
Two: Going out as a couple. It sounds like this is basically a non-starter right now, which must be really tough. Are there any outdoors-ish activities you can do together at home, like gardening or setting up a slackline between some trees? Working on, or in, whatever natural space you do have access to, even if it’s a corner filled with houseplants or a neat bird feeder by your window, is still better than not being around nature at all.
A lot of times, backyard activities are seen as childish and small, because once we get older we’re usually able to venture farther from home. But if you have a yard, you have options, especially if you lean into creativity. You might try buying or borrowing some stuff to figure out what you enjoy, be it badminton rackets, a beanbag toss, or even an outdoor chess set. Building a treehouse or fort can be a lot of fun, even as a grown-up, and it might be permission-giving for your kid to see adults being so playful (even if they roll their eyes). I’m partial to making snow shelters and snow sculptures myself, but you can work with whatever nature’s giving you.
Three: Going out on your own. It seems like you’re both very loving to each other, and want to support each other in going outside, and that you also both feel ambivalent about leaving and putting stress and responsibility on the other person. That speaks to the depth of your love after 20 years of marriage. (Congratulations, by the way! That’s amazing) Can you make a deal that you’ll both take time off? Maybe your husband will be more comfortable taking time for himself if you promise that you’ll do the same later.
When it’s your turn, if you don’t want to hike alone, would you be up for a different outdoor adventure? You could look into joining a friend, or even a local hiking group, if you’re not into going solo. And if there’s something you’d enjoy but that feels strange and indulgent to do on your own, like taking a day-long guided trip, I’d encourage you to splurge and pursue it. By caring for yourself individually, you’re also caring for your family—and when you pursue joy for yourself, you’re also bringing joy and energy to your home.
It sounds like you’re offering all the understanding and support you can to your kid, and I’m sure it makes a world of difference. Just as childhood trauma doesn’t go away, neither do the love and adventures you’ve had together, even when they—and you—are struggling. I wish you all the best, in this chapter and in all the challenges and delights to come.