I Know What You Should Have Done last Summer

Written By Josh Doyle

Every fall, capable young people move in convinced this is their fresh start. A change of scenery doesn't change old patterns — and unstructured freedom has a way of exposing the gaps.

The Realist's Guide to College Transitions and Executive Function Coaching

It never ceases to amaze me—no matter how many times life punches us square in the face—how desperately we still want to believe that denial is just a river in Egypt.

We remain avid practitioners of Albert Einstein's definition of insanity: repeating the exact same flawed behaviors over and over, while praying for a magically different result. Now, I know invoking Sigmund Freud in a discussion about modern parenting is bound to raise an eyebrow or two—the man was certainly controversial, and plenty of his theories haven't aged well. But in this particular case, I think the old shrink (mommy issues aside) was really onto something.

Freud identified what he called the Repetition Compulsion (Wiederholungszwang)—an unconscious drive to reenact traumatic, distressing, or maladaptive patterns over and over, retreating to what feels familiar even when we know the behavior is destructive. Rather than working through past conflicts, we "act them out."

In higher education, this repetition carries a devastating, systemic price tag. But here is the critical piece parents miss: we cannot sit around waiting for our young people to magically snap out of these patterns when their prefrontal cortexes—the brain's command center for impulse control, planning, and self-regulation—are not even fully developed yet. They literally do not have the cognitive hardware to fix this on their own. Instead of praying for a miracle, parents must step up, set firm non-negotiables, and transition their relationship with their child from one of rescuing a kid to setting boundaries with a young adult.

The Romantic Myth of the "Fresh Start"

Every fall, thousands of capable young people arrive on college campuses wildly unprepared for the reality waiting for them. Now more than ever, students show up lacking basic executive functioning skills and the personal discipline needed to manage unstructured freedom.

For many students—especially those with a history of learning differences, IEPs, or 504 plans—college represents an irresistible fantasy. They want to shed their past, leave their support systems behind, and convince themselves that all their problems will vanish once they are at school and their parents stop hovering over them.

As Mike Ness of Social Distortion famously sang in Ball and Chain, you can run all your life, but you can't go anywhere. Running away and dodging reality doesn't make your problems disappear—it just guarantees they will catch up to you the second the honeymoon phase fades. Packing your bags won't magically upgrade an undeveloped prefrontal cortex.

It sounds romantic to "start fresh." In practice, ignoring operational reality isn't a fresh start—it's classic self-deception and pure Wiederholungszwang. When parents indulge this fantasy under the guise of "honoring their child's independence, choices, and wishes," they aren't validating their kid; they are avoiding the mature, boundary-setting role their young adult actually needs from them.

The October Collapse

Robert Frost famously pleaded in his poem October: "O hushed October morning mild... Begin the hours of this day slow, Make the day seem to us less brief." He was begging the season to slow down time before tomorrow's wild winds swept through and wasted the harvest.

For a struggling freshman, October brings that exact same quiet panic—except the clock doesn't stop, and tomorrow's wild wind comes in the form of midterms, mountain-high assignments, and cold reality. Predictably, by the time October rolls around, the romantic illusion shatters.

The stress piles up, and overwhelmed students default right back to their familiar, destructive habits. Their dorm rooms transform into isolation chambers powered by video games, late-night avoidance, self-medication, and of course, DoorDash still on your dime.

They don't ask for help because pride keeps them locked into the script they sold their parents back in August: "I have everything under control, and if I need help, I'll ask for it."

They don't ask because an executive functioning deficit prevents them from knowing how. Executive functioning skills do not manifest through osmosis. High school strategies rarely translate to the unstructured expanse of a university schedule, and an incomplete prefrontal cortex cannot cram self-regulation at the eleventh hour.

The Parent's Non-Negotiable Action Plan

Because young adult brains are still under construction, expecting them to self-correct without external structure is pure fantasy. As parents, we cannot save our children from themselves, nor can we force maturity into a mind determined to learn the hard way. However, you have every right—and a fundamental obligation—to establish adult-to-adult boundaries that protect your peace of mind and your financial investment.

Transitioning your relationship means moving away from childhood coddling and setting clear, firm terms. If your child is transitioning to college, here are the non-negotiables you must implement before move-in day:

  1. Hire an Executive Function Coach Specializing in College Students
    Do not hire a general academic tutor. You need a specialist who acts as an external prefrontal cortex—someone who understands university-level workloads, unstructured time management, and higher-ed dynamics.

  2. Start Coaching Meetings in the Summer
    Do not wait for an October collapse. Begin meetings in June or July. Establishing routines, digital calendar mapping, and syllabus prep before campus move-in builds neurological momentum instead of autumn firefighting.

  3. Get Updated Psychoeducational Assessment Testing Done Senior Year of High School
    If your child has a learning difference, updated testing in their senior year is essential. First, college accessibility offices require current documentation to grant formal accommodations. Second, this testing gives the coach an exact blueprint of your child's cognitive strengths and executive gaps—saving endless time and eliminating costly guesswork.

  4. Make Support Non-Negotiable for the First Semester
    Stand firm: ongoing coaching is an absolute condition of tuition payment for Semester One. Once students experience the reduced stress and practical support firsthand, the resistance fades—and the vast majority voluntarily choose to continue working with their coach.

Protecting Your Investment

Last spring, I attended several high school graduations for students I had worked with. Virtually none of them had a concrete support system set up for the fall. In every instance, I called the parents directly and delivered a clear warning: Your child is entering a high-risk transition unprepared. You need to set them up for success and protect your investment.

When parents hesitated—unwilling to pick a fight with their teenager—I ended up talking to the kids myself. I looked them in the eye and laid out the reality of their new young-adult status:

"Look, I'm not doubting your brainpower or your drive—you know I respect what you're capable of. You've worked hard and deserve this opportunity, and getting you across that high school finish line took a real investment from a lot of people in your corner. Turning down support doesn't prove you're a grown-up; it just means you're not seeing how much everyone else has riding on this. 'Trust me, I've got this' might have worked when you were a minor, but it's time to start acting like an adult so people don't have to keep stepping in for you. Others made real sacrifices because they believe in you. If you're not willing to help protect that investment, it's fair for them to expect something different from you going forward."

It is heartbreaking to watch a bright young person flounder in their first semester. Now, I have always advocated that parents allow their children to experience discomfort and refrain from rescuing them so they can learn to put themselves back together. But what I am talking about here is entirely different. Setting up supports is NOT rescuing—the support person is not doing the work for anyone. They are teaching them how to handle things on their own. Ask yourself: would you buy your child a car with broken seat belts just because they say, "Trust me, I got this, I'm a good driver"? Of course not. So while we could take a backseat and let them "learn from their mistakes" completely unequipped, at what cost? Financially? Emotionally? If they struggle badly, will they even have the emotional fortitude to get back up?

You hold the leverage before the tuition check clears:

  • Option A: They accept structured support and executive coaching going in.

  • Option B: They don't go.

Holding that line in July is how you treat them like an adult—and it is far better than spending the spring semester watching a depressed, defeated young adult sit in your basement doing nothing.

The Bottom Line

To bring it back to Social Distortion: you can try to run all your life, but you won't get anywhere if you're dragging the exact same ball and chain of repetition compulsion behind you. If you don't teach your kids accountability, boundaries, and self-awareness by enforcing real conditions today, you are failing to transition your relationship into what they actually need for adulthood.

We have to stop waiting around for a developing brain to magically fix itself. They are now technically your "adult children." They are legal adults, and we as parents have to treat them like adults—not rescue them like children. It doesn't matter if your child feels like they are 18 going on 15; that mindset has to change. The real world runs on real consequences, and it won't slow down to accommodate anyone who isn't ready for that.

However, an 18-year-old who is effectively "15" in maturity is far more likely to respond to real consequences when they actually have the chance to experience them—not when they are constantly rescued from their own poor choices. Protect your investment, redefine your relationship around firm adult boundaries, and give them the structure they need to succeed rather than the safety net that enables avoidance.

Look back at the choices made before campus move-in—because come October, everyone will know what you should have done last summer. If your child pushes back on these terms, that's a conversation worth having openly, not a fight to win. But structure and support going in is how you give them the best shot at actually thriving once they get there.

Next
Next

The Great College Myth