Your Son Is Not a Good Fit

“Your Son Is Not a Good Fit” — Why That’s Not the Whole Story

Hearing “your son is not a good fit” used to sting. It made me feel like my child was the problem—too much, too silly, too different, too everything. But over time, something shifted. I started to see it differently. Maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t a him problem. Maybe it was a them problem.

That shift became crystal clear after a phone call from a private tutoring center. My son had been attending twice a week for eight weeks. He’d had two tricky sessions where he was playful, distracted, not ready to settle. On the second occasion, I was outside when they called me in. There were no warm smiles, no burst of energy to connect with him—just stern, tight-lipped faces. And in that moment, I thought, “This is not the right place for my son.”

That evening, I sent a message:
Hi, this is Blake’s mom. Can we take Blake off the schedule? We don’t think [name] is the right fit for him. Thank you for helping him till now.

The next day, they called. They told me the door was always open—until she added, “I agree, Blake is not the right fit for here.”
Wait—what?

My message said they were not the right fit for him. Yet somehow, her response shifted the focus back to my child—as if he was the square peg in their perfectly carved round hole. No acknowledgment that maybe they weren’t able—or willing—to meet him where he was. No accountability. Just a quiet deflection: he didn’t fit.

Here’s the thing: it’s okay if a program isn’t equipped to support kids who need something different. Not every teacher or tutor is trained or able to offer what some kids need. But let’s own that. Let’s not project it onto the child.

I didn’t get mad. I just got off the phone knowing—this is their limitation, not my son’s failure.

Maybe she even thought she was being supportive. I honestly believe she read my message in her head the same way she said it out loud. But words matter. Intent doesn’t cancel out impact.

So I told my son the truth. That they weren’t the right fit for him. We talked about what he liked and didn’t like. I explained that learning isn’t boring when you’re truly engaged. He agreed.

If you’ve got three kids and one teacher, learning should still feel exciting. It should spark curiosity. Sadly, too often, the burden falls on the child to “fit” into a rigid system. And when they don’t? They’re labeled. Pushed out. Told they’re the problem.

But what is “fitting in,” anyway?

As adults, we celebrate uniqueness, tell each other to be bold, authentic, different. Yet too many adults still tell children: fit in, sit still, stay quiet.

I’ve decided I’m not playing along with that anymore. My child isn’t too much. He’s exactly enough. The world just needs to catch up.

From Momma Vix

EnjoyYourSilly