Helping Our Children Face Anxiety
A Parent’s Honest Reflection.
Anxiety is a strong fear of the unknown. And for children, it can be even more intense. Imagine being small, with almost no life experience, completely dependent on others, and unsure what’s coming next. That fear? That’s anxiety.
Some of our sweet little ones are naturally more cautious. Even seemingly small things—like stepping up to ask another child to play or walking into school—can feel like overwhelming, dreadful fears inside them.
This is hard for kids, no doubt. But it’s hard for us parents too.
We want to help. We want to say the right things, do the right things, and pave the smoothest path possible. But if you’ve ever been in that moment—when your child is consumed by fear and nothing you say calms them—you know how powerless it can feel.
Some parents pull back, believing their kids will get through it. Others, like me, try long heartfelt speeches, hoping that logic and love will fix everything. But often, nothing seems to work. I’ve made mistakes trying to protect my children by removing the challenge. But here’s the truth: avoidance is the enemy of overcoming anxiety.
Anxiety has to be faced—gently, safely, in small steps. And the amazing thing? Children have an incredible gift: imagination. Their brains are wired for rapid growth. While adults are often set in their ways, kids are naturally adaptable.
When my daughter Ella was four, she was too anxious to join any club. I signed her up for a tiny karate class and spoke with the sensei. He kindly allowed us to sit in the corner, hidden slightly behind a curtain.
For the first two sessions, Ella clung to me, crying the whole time, like her life depended on it. But we went back. By the third time, she was still holding on, but watching. Then came small games. Then—curiosity. Soon after, the sensei made a rule: no parents in the dojo. I told Ella I’d be just outside, and if she was scared, she could come get me.
She didn’t. She stayed.
At the same time, I realized something powerful: when a child is extremely anxious, they are unreasonable. Their brain isn’t working logically—it's like an animal caught in a burning house. Reasoning with that fear often doesn’t help.
What does help is giving them something else to focus on. And that’s where imagination comes in.
Ella loved animals. She felt strong when she pretended to be one. So I sewed a soft, swishy tail onto a pair of leggings. A costume, maybe. But to her—it was a transformation.
The tail gave her something to hold when she was nervous. Something to swish when she needed courage. Something that made other kids smile, so she didn’t always have to be the one to start a conversation. The tail did the work for her.
With time, repetition, and little moments of success, her brain learned: "You’re safe here. You’re welcome here. You’re enough."
Now, five years later, Ella is a different child. She's still sensitive, still herself—but no longer defined by anxiety. She performs on stage, leads group activities, and walks toward life with a sense of trust.
When her heart races, I see her take a breath… grab her tail… and walk forward anyway.
Yes, I’ve made mistakes. I sometimes tried to erase obstacles, when I should have walked quietly alongside her instead. But I’ve learned this: anxiety isn’t something to fear. It’s something we can face—together.
When our children are anxious, our job isn’t to fix it for them. It’s to stand beside them. Stay calm. Believe in their resilience. And encourage their imagination—because it’s there that courage begins to grow.
We can’t protect our kids from every challenge. But we can help them discover that they are strong enough to meet it. And sometimes, all it takes is a little tail, consistency, patience and trust.