The College Counseling Mom Podcast: It’s Fine, I’m Fine, My Kid’s in High School.

Episode 26 | My Kid Has Nothing to Write About (And Other Things Parents Say Before the Essay Changes Everything)

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0:00 | 11:14

Every spring I hear the same thing from junior parents: my kid has nothing to write about.

And almost every time, I find out that is not true. The story is already there. They just have not found it yet — because they are looking in the wrong places.

This week I am coming off six college campus visits with Josh over spring break — Northwestern, Marquette, University of Wisconsin, University of Illinois, Indiana University, and Butler. What surprised me most about watching him react to different campuses connects directly to what I want every junior family to understand about the college personal statement right now.

College essay brainstorming is not about finding the perfect topic. It is about finding the thread that is already there. The detail that is specific to your student. The story that only they could tell. And April — not August, not the week before the Common App opens — is exactly the right time to start looking.

In this episode I talk about:

  • What six college campus visits in one week taught me about my own kid that I genuinely did not expect — and why watching your student react to a campus tells you more than any research ever could
  • Why Josh wanting city energy AND green space, lakes, and wooded walks is exactly the kind of specific layered detail that makes a great college essay — and what that has to do with finding your student's story
  • The connection between college visits and the personal statement — and why they work exactly the same way
  • One of my favorite college essays of the season: a pair of pink cowgirl boots and everything they carried — dance, family, grief, growing independence, and a girl who knows exactly who she is before she ever walks into a college classroom
  • Why the strongest personal statements are almost never about the biggest moments — and what admissions readers are actually looking for
  • Why "my kid has nothing to write about" is almost never actually true — and what it really means when a student says it
  • The one question to ask your junior this week that will start the essay brainstorming process without a blank document or a formal sit-down
  • Why families who start the college essay process in April consistently produce better personal statements than families who wait until August — and the real reason it is not about the deadline

If you’re a parent navigating high school, college admissions, or the many transitions that come with raising teens, you’re in the right place.

I’m Lindsay, a college counselor and parent who believes thoughtful guidance matters—especially for the awesomely average kid. The student who isn’t chasing prestige, but still deserves smart planning, clear strategy, and a path that truly fits.

You can explore ways to work with me, learn about upcoming programs, or find additional resources at www.thecollegecounselingmom.com and sign up for my weekly newsletter here

If this episode was helpful, I’d be so grateful if you’d follow the show, leave a review, or share it with another parent who could use steady, grounded support.

Thanks for being here. I’m honored to walk this season with you.
Lindsay | The College Counseling Mom

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Okay, so we just got back from spring break and I have a lot to say. We hit six campuses in one week. Northwestern, Marquette, University of Wisconsin, University of Illinois, Indiana University, and Butler. We threw in a Milwaukee Brewers game and we ended up in Indianapolis for the Final Four, which, if you follow college basketball, you know Illinois was there. And if you were anywhere near downtown Indianapolis last weekend, you know Illinois fans were everywhere, like everywhere. It was a lot. It was wonderful. And it taught me something about my own kid that I genuinely didn't expect, which I want to talk about today because what happened on those campuses connects directly to the thing I hear from parents all the time this time of year. My kid has nothing to write about. And I want to talk about why that is almost never true and what it actually takes to find the story that was there all along. Welcome to the College Counseling Mom podcast. I'm fine, it's fine. Your kid is just in high school. I'm Lizzie. And yes, that title is a whole mood. I am a school counselor and a college admissions specialist. But honestly, my most relevant credential might be that I am a mom surviving this exact process in real time. We talk about all of it here: testing, essays, campus visits. The moment your kid tells you something important from the backseat, and you have to pretend you are not about to cry. No gatekeeping, no fear tactics, and absolutely no judgment. Grab your wine and let's get into it. So here's the thing about college visits that nobody really tells you. You think you know your kid. You have been living with them for 16, 17 years. You know their favorite food, you know their sleep schedule, and exactly which tone of voice means they are actually fine versus the tone of voice that means something is wrong. And then you walk onto a college campus and you watch them react to something and you think, huh, I did not know that about you. That happened to me this week more than once. What surprised me most about Josh on this trip was this. He was, he is genuinely drawn to city energy, like real city energy. We are talking professional sports, walkable neighborhoods, that buzz that comes from being near something bigger than a college town. I did not know that. Maybe I knew it a little bit, but I did not know how much it mattered to him until I watched him light up in certain places and go quiet in others. And here's the part that really got me. At the same time, and this is what makes Josh Josh, he also wants green space, lakes, wooded walking paths, places where he can go outside and just breathe. He wants the energy of a city and the calm of nature. Both at the same time. And you know what? That is a completely reasonable thing to want. It is also a really specific thing to want. And I would not have known how specific it was if I had not watched him walk around six campuses over spring break. That is what visits do. They show you things about your student that you cannot discover any other way. And it is also, stay with me here, exactly what the personal statement is supposed to do. The reason I am connecting these two things is because they work the same way. A college visit is not really about the campus. It is about your student, what they respond to, what they notice, what makes them light up or shut down. The campus is just the backdrop. Your kid is the whole story. And a personal statement is the same thing. It is not really about the topic. It is about the student, your student. The topic is just the backdrop. Who they are is the whole story. The problem is that most families approach the essay the same way they approach a bad college visit. They go in with a checklist, they focus on the obvious things, they miss the quiet moments that actually tell you something. And then they come home and say, My kid has nothing to write about. I have heard that phrase so many times from parents who are doing everything right, from students who are genuinely thoughtful and interesting and have real stories to tell. And what they almost always mean when they say it is not that there is no story. It is that they have not found it yet because they are looking in the wrong places. I want to tell you about one of my favorite essays from this season. I'm not going to share any details that would identify the student, but I want you to hear this because it is the best example I have of what I mean. This student came to me convinced she had nothing to write about, no big dramatic moment, no life-changing hardship, no single defining experience she could point to and say, there, that is my essay. And then we started talking, and she mentioned her cowgirl boots. A pair of pink cowgirl boots that she had owned for years. Every time she outgrew them, she bought a new pair. And as she talked about them casually, not thinking it was important, I started to hear everything. She talked about wearing them to kindergarten, to dance recitals, to awards, about the role her mother played in picking them out and teaching her to love who she was before the world had opinions about it. She talked about wearing them and showing up in something that felt like herself, even on the hardest days. She talked about putting them on days where she was terrified because they made her feel like she could do hard things. These boots had carried her through dance, through family, through independence, through every milestone of her life. That essay was not about cowgirl boots. It was about a girl who knows who she is, who learned it from her mother, who carries that identity into every hard thing she faces, who shows up fully, even when it costs her something. That is the essay. The boots are just the door. And when I tell you this student came to me saying she had nothing to write about, I mean it. She genuinely believed it. Until we sat down and started talking, and the story surfaced the way stories always do when you actually look for them. That is the whole job of essay brainstorming. Not to invent a story, to find the one that is already there. So if the story is already there, how do you find it? This is where I want to give you something practical because I think a lot of families here find your story and have absolutely no idea what to do with that. Here is how I actually work with students on this. We stop talking about the essay entirely and we just talk. What do you do when nobody is watching? What would you do for free? What problem do you want to solve? What is the thing you come back to over and over again, even when nobody is asking you to? What values do you hold? Where do you feel at home? For Josh, this week it was Cine Energy Plus Nature. That combination is specific to him. That contrast tells me something about who he is and what he values and how he sees the world. That is not a college essay yet, but it is a thread worth pulling. For your student, it might be something completely different. A hobby that started as a joke and became a real thing, a relationship that shaped them in ways they have not fully articulated yet, a moment or an item that seems ordinary but keeps coming back to them for a reason. The practical thing I want you to do this week is ask your student one question, not what do you want to write your essay about? Just this. What is something you care about that most people do not know you care about? Write down whatever they say, even if it seems irrelevant, even if they roll their eyes, just write it down. That, my friend, is your starting point. So I want to address the timing piece because I know some families are thinking it is April, we have time. The essay does not need to happen until the fall. And technically, that is true. The essay does not need to be submitted until the fall. But here's what happens to families who wait until August to start. They sit down in the middle of summer when your student has had two months of zero academic thinking and try to force a deeply personal, reflective piece of writing out of a brain that has been on vacation. And it does not go well. The student panics, the parent panics, everyone is frustrated, and the essay ends up being written in a rush under pressure, which almost never produces the best version of the story. The families who start brainstorming now, not writing, not drafting, just noticing and talking and pulling threads, they arrive at summer with a head start that makes everything easier. The student goes into senior year with the essay almost done, the pressure is gone, and the work is better because it had time to breathe. That is the whole argument for starting in April. Not because there is a deadline, because better essays come from more time. So if you have a junior and the essay is starting to feel real, good. It should feel real. It is real. But it is also manageable. It is findable. It is already there waiting for you to pay attention to it. So start the conversation this week. Ask the question and write down what they say. And I will see you next week. Thanks for listening to the College Counseling Mom podcast. If this episode helped you feel a little calmer or a little more confident, please follow or subscribe wherever you're listening. And share it with another mom who could use a reminder that it's all going to be okay. Head over to the blog at thecollegecounselingmom.com for full show notes, links, and resources from today's episode. You can also find me on Instagram and Facebook at the College Counseling Mom. And remember, it's fine, you're fine. Your kid's just in high school.