As we approach a day centered on love, this piece feels especially timely. When I asked Eva Musby what she wanted other parents to understand, I listened closely. What she shared reaches many.

Eva is a parent advocate, author, and parent coach in the eating disorders field. The skills and principles she shares, however, extend far beyond eating disorders. They apply to any caregiver who loves someone navigating a mental health challenge.

A note on language: Though Eva uses she/her below, this piece is not limited by gender—or by any specific diagnosis.

Below is Eva’s insight, in her own words.

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“Love them even when they’re down.”

One afternoon, when my daughter was very ill, I met a generous young woman recovering from anorexia. As we parted, I asked her, “What’s the one most important thing I should focus on? The one thing that will make the biggest difference to my child?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Love her at all times. Even when she’s down. Even when she’s at her worst.”

That stayed with me.

Loving someone when they’re at their worst is the essence of unconditional love. But when my little girl developed anorexia—a life‑threatening illness that drastically alters our children—I found myself wrestling with two uncomfortable questions.

Question one: Is it healthy for love to be one‑sided? With an eating disorder where a child’s nervous system is in overwhelm, it’s common for parents to receive hate. Is it wise—or even realistic—to respond with love? If you’re raising a teen, you might be wrestling with the same question.

Question two: If you love your child even when their behavour is dangerous or abusive, could that be taken as permission to continue?

I struggled with those paradoxes. And I know I’m not alone. Every day, I support parents who work hard to help a child with an eating disorder, and these questions come up again and again.

What Is Unconditional Love?

Unconditional love means loving our children regardless of what they do or don’t do. It’s love, no matter what. It’s about them mattering to us. It’s letting them know they’re wanted, special, significant, valued, appreciated, missed, and enjoyed. And really, who doesn’t thrive on that?

It was easy to show my daughter love when things were going well—during cuddly moments, or when she was clearly trying her best. But at times, she was too deep in fight, flight, or freeze. That’s when her behavior was out of order. And paradoxically, that’s when she needed love most.

We, the parents, were the people she needed to turn to; we were her anchor, her rock. Criticising her would only add to her stress, uncertainty, and self‑loathing. In the state she was in, she expected us to judge her. So, we took extra care to show her uncritical acceptance.

Sometimes that meant giving her space or lowering our expectations. And othertimes it meant providing firm boundaries: a container that protected both her behaviorand her self‑respect.

But What About the Behavior?

This brings us back to question number two. If she had my love, would she assume it was acceptable to act without regard for her needs or mine?

This is where Nonviolent Communication principles offer so many desperate parents those welcome ‘aha’ moments. I found that when I attended to our connection, things often resolved or became far easier to work through.

What About You?

You might say, “My child doesn’t have an illness or their illness isn’t ‘that bad.’ Their behavior is unacceptable. They’re perfectly capable of changing. Until they do, I’m not going to show love.” So you might bring in rewards, “consequences,” and forceful authority. After all, who wants to raise a spoiled brat?

Here’s how I see it.

When your child is very ill, you have no choice but to acquire super‑tools. You wish your child had them too, but they’re too young, too vulnerable. So it’s up to you to hold the emotional container. You learn how to be both compassionate and firm.

Once you see these tools working with a child when they’re at their most dysregulated, you realise how they pay off in everyday situations too. I mean, why add to conflict when connection works?

Most of us didn’t grow up with parents who modelled these skills. But the knowledge is available now, and there are plenty of resources to learn.

Love: A Verb, Not a Feeling

Back to problem number one. Can love be one‑sided? Should it be?

I remember a neighbor, exhausted from raising four teenagers alone, blurting out, “I don’t even like my son!” I felt shocked. My daughter was a tiny baby then, and I was full of love.

My neighbor, I now realise, was talking of love as a feeling. And yes, feelings (emotions) come and go. When your nervous system is under attack, when you’re under‑resourced, when you’re stressed, when your child seems to hate you (and hate is just another fluctuating feeling), it’s natural not to feel love.

But love is also a value—something you hold precious. And love becomes a verb when you act in line with that value. That’s why most of us don’t run away when relationships get tough. We keep trying. We do our best. When we realise we can’t pour from an empty cup, we seek out resources. We look for what will skill us up and make us strong.

My daughter is now an adult and thriving; The illness is in the past. Life is sweet. Still, I’m drawn to my Zoom screen, supporting courageous, heroic parents to help their child back to wellbeing when everything feels impossibly hard.

I wish you a gentler journey. But on difficult days, when you pause to breathe and choose your next step, trust in the power of unconditional love.

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And on that note, I wish you abundant unconditional positive regard from your providers (a term therapists use, and one I also understand as love) and unconditional love from partners, friends, and family.