The Cat, The Rabbit, and the Art of Genuine Support: What Supportive Stories Actually Means

Sometimes the most profound insights come from the most unexpected places. Today, that place was a family group chat featuring what appeared to be an extraordinarily fluffy creature and a delightfully neurospicy family debate about species identification.

My son shared a photo with the confident declaration: “This is a cat (believe it or not).” The image showed what I can only describe as the most magnificently round, fluffy creature I’d ever seen—so round, in fact, that my mum’s immediate contribution to the conversation was: “It looks like a moth-eaten fur hat.”

As I stared at this impressive specimen, two things happened that made me realise I had a perfect example of what Supportive Stories is—and crucially, what it isn’t.

The Comparison Trap: What Support Isn’t

My first reaction was immediate and telling: “Crikey, that cat is much larger than ours. Maybe our cat’s weight isn’t such a concern after all.”

And there it was—the exact opposite of what genuine support should be.

Our largest cat, Keo, is currently on a vet-recommended healthy eating plan. The vet has been clear about the importance of helping him reach a healthier weight for his overall wellbeing. This isn’t about shame or judgment—it’s about supporting his health and happiness.

But seeing this much larger cat, my brain immediately wanted to use it as evidence that our concerns were overblown. “Look,” my mind whispered, “there are cats in much more urgent need of health support. Maybe we’re worrying over nothing.”

This is what I call the “comparison trap,” and it’s exactly what Supportive Stories isn’t about.

True support isn’t about finding bigger problems elsewhere to make our own challenges disappear. It isn’t about crafting narratives that help us avoid necessary action. Our cat still needs his healthy lifestyle plan, regardless of how many larger cats exist in the world.

The same principle applies whether you’re a parent wondering if your family really needs support because others seem to struggle more, or a business owner thinking your operational chaos is “fine” because you’ve seen worse elsewhere.

Genuine support means looking clearly at what IS, not what could be worse.

The Hyperfocus Hook: Recognising Unhelpful Patterns

The second thing that happened reveals another important aspect of support—knowing when to step back from our own need to understand every detail.

Despite the photo being captioned “English Angora Rabbit,” my son was confident it was a cat. My immediate response? An overwhelming urge to drill down into exactly HOW he’d reached this conclusion. My ADHD brain was ready to hyperfocus on this delicious mystery.

“Why does the caption say rabbit?” I typed. “Idk but it is a cat (I checked),” he replied.

And there was my choice point. I could continue pushing, demanding to know his methodology, his sources, his verification process. Or I could accept that he’d done his due diligence and was sharing information he trusted.

This might seem like a small moment, but it represents something crucial about supportive relationships. Sometimes the most supportive thing we can do is accept what someone’s telling us rather than getting stuck in our own need to understand every detail.

This shows up constantly in family life: when your child tells you they’re struggling with something, do you immediately launch into twenty questions about exactly why and how and what happened? Or can you start with acceptance and validation?

It appears in business relationships too: when a team member tells you something isn’t working, do you interrogate their assessment, or do you trust their expertise and focus on solutions?

What Genuine Support Actually Looks Like

So if support isn’t about making problems disappear through comparison, and it isn’t about drilling down into every detail, what is it?

Genuine support is about helping people navigate reality in healthier ways.

It’s the difference between giving someone rose-coloured glasses and teaching them to see clearly while building resilience. It’s about creating breathing room and clarity so people can take the right next steps, rather than avoiding necessary action altogether.

In our cat’s case, genuine support looks like acknowledging that yes, he needs health support, AND recognising that this comes from a place of love and care for his wellbeing. It means celebrating small improvements while staying committed to the overall goal.

For families, it might mean validating that parenting feels overwhelming right now while also exploring practical strategies that could help. It doesn’t mean pretending everything’s fine when it isn’t, but it also doesn’t mean catastrophising or getting stuck in shame.

For businesses, it means acknowledging operational challenges while focusing on sustainable solutions rather than quick fixes that don’t address root causes.

The Neurospicy* Family Element

I’d be remiss not to mention the delightful absurdity of this entire conversation, which perfectly illustrates our wonderfully neurospicy* family dynamics.

Here we were, four adults and two kids in a group chat, having a discussion about whether a magnificently fluffy creature was a cat or a rabbit, with contributions ranging from species identification confidence to comparisons with moth-eaten headwear.

This is peak neurodivergent family communication—we go deep, we get curious about details that might not matter to others, and we absolutely commit to the conversation at hand. These quirks aren’t problems to be solved; they’re part of how we connect and understand the world together.

And actually, this conversation demonstrates something beautiful about supportive family dynamics: we can be completely ourselves, share our immediate reactions and obsessions, and know we’ll be met with engagement rather than judgment.

Applying This to Real Life

Whether you’re supporting yourself, your family, or your business, the principles remain the same:

Look at what IS, not what could be worse. Your challenges are valid regardless of whether others face bigger ones. Your need for support doesn’t disappear because someone else’s situation seems more urgent.

Focus on health and growth, not comparison and shame. Just as our cat needs support to reach his healthiest weight, whatever you’re working on deserves attention and care.

Know when to accept rather than interrogate. Sometimes the most supportive thing you can do is trust someone’s assessment rather than needing to understand every detail of how they reached it.

Embrace your quirks. The way your brain works—whether that includes hyperfocus, detailed questioning, or moth-eaten fur hat observations—isn’t something to hide or fix. It’s part of how you navigate the world.

Creating Your Own Supportive Stories

The goal of any supportive story isn’t to make problems disappear or to avoid necessary action. It’s to create the mental and emotional space needed to take healthy next steps.

Whether you’re a parent feeling overwhelmed by your child’s needs, a business owner drowning in operational chaos, or simply someone trying to navigate life’s complexities with a neurodivergent brain, genuine support starts with seeing clearly—not through rose-coloured glasses, but with compassion and realistic hope.

Sometimes that support comes from family group chats about mysterious fluffy creatures. Sometimes it comes from professional guidance. Sometimes it comes from simply learning to trust your own assessment and take the next right step.

The key is remembering that true support helps you move forward, not stay stuck in comparison or avoidance.

What would genuine support look like in your world right now? What next right step could you take from a place of clarity rather than comparison?

At Supportive Stories, we help families and businesses navigate challenges with practical support and genuine understanding. Whether you’re facing transitions, overwhelm, or simply need someone to help you see your situation clearly, we’re here to create the breathing room you need for your next right steps.

*Not everyone loves this term. I personally use it to describe myself and my family, who are all happy with it. It’s not meant to diminish the experience of ND individuals but rather add a lighthearted slant to what can be a relentless day-to-day experience.