As parents, we all want the very best for our children and in the future we want to imagine our children being happy and capable of handling life when we are not there to hold their hand.  Many of us have noticed that childhood feels different today; significantly different from when we were youngsters. National data shows rising levels of anxiety among children and for us as parents, this can feel deeply worrying.

Our primary instinct as parents is to protect, to soothe, and perhaps even to remove whatever is causing distress in our children. But Jonathan Haidt (The Anxious Generation) asks a powerful question: are we preparing the road for the child, or preparing the child for the road? Resilience is not simply old-fashioned toughness, and it is not something some children are born with and others are not. Resilience is more like a neurological muscle that strengthens through manageable challenge. When children face difficulty, experience small frustrations, solve problems and recover from setbacks, their capacity to cope grows. If we remove every obstacle, that muscle never fully develops.

Modern parenting is, in many ways, wonderfully attentive. We spend more time with our children than generations before us. We are emotionally aware and deeply invested in their wellbeing. However, sometimes this can slip into dependency on us to clear all obstacles and challenges from our child’s path. Homework confusion is fixed immediately; a forgotten PE kit is driven rapidly to school; a friendship wobble is solved via WhatsApp before the next morning.  When children rarely encounter manageable struggle, they may not develop independent problem-solving skills, confidence in the face of failure, or the ability to regulate their emotions. Some psychologists recommend a ‘lighthouse’ approach, where parents understand that we cannot control the wind or the waves, but we can be a consistent light. We guide and we support, but we do not remove every storm.

Jonathan Haidt suggests that resilience works like our immune system. An immune system strengthens through exposure to small germs. In the same way, children need small doses of stress, disappointment and risk in order to grow stronger. If we eliminate every uncomfortable experience, minor setbacks can start to feel like major threats.

As we know, children learn more from what we as adults do than what we say. If we look panicked when things go wrong, they learn that problems are emergencies. If we remain calm and thoughtful, children learn that problems are manageable. One simple but powerful strategy can be to narrate our own setbacks (rather than show our anger/emotions/panic). “That didn’t go as planned, so I’m going to take a deep breath and think about what to do next.”   Another helpful practice is the ‘sixty-second pause’. When our children are struggling with a puzzle, a sibling disagreement or another tricky situation… wait. Before stepping in, ask yourself: is my child in actual danger? Am I removing a learning opportunity? What is the smallest amount of help I can offer?

One of the many things that we try to protect our children from is anxiety. While dealing with a child’s anxiety can be upsetting, it is useful to understand that anxiety is a natural emotion designed to keep humans (and other mammals) safe. The amygdala within our brain’s limbic system is our internal danger detector, designed to react quickly to perceived threats. But in anxious children, that alarm can be triggered by things that are not truly dangerous: a maths test, a social event, the school day ahead. If we immediately remove the feared situation, the brain perceives that there really was actual danger and rings the alarm even louder next time. Therefore, avoiding or being protected from what makes a child anxious can bring short-term relief but long-term anxiety. Unfortunately, this simple neuroscience is quickly forgotten when we see our children distressed, as our own amygdala starts ringing.

Psychologists have found that parental reassurance can unintentionally feed the anxiety cycle. When a child repeatedly asks, “What if you’re late?” or “What if I feel sick?” and we repeatedly offer certainty, their anxiety may drop briefly, only to return with a new “what if.” Our goal as parents is not to eliminate anxiety, but to teach children that they can feel anxious and still function. The most helpful approach in doing this combines validation with confidence.  Validation of the emotion – “I can see you’re feeling nervous” – combined with building their confidence and belief – “and I know you will be able to handle that feeling and do this.” We are not dismissing or arguing with the emotion or reinforcing avoidance. Instead, we are communicating belief in their capacity.

School anxiety (sometimes disguised as tummy aches or headaches) can quickly become a cycle of school avoidance if reinforced, a cycle that can become challenging to reverse as the brain begins to label school as danger and home as safety. The longer a child avoids school, the larger the fear can grow until it becomes outright refusal. As parents, we have to ensure that attendance remains the expectation.  At the drop-offs, goodbyes need to be kind, calm and brief. Waiting for a child to feel completely calm before going in often means the anxiety grows bigger. The message we want to give our children is that you can feel anxious and still go in.

One of the most important things that I have learned as a parent is that we cannot control our children’s feelings, but we are in full control of our responses. When we model calm confidence, we create a sense of security. However, when we show our emotions, we unintentionally tell the child that there is something to be anxious about. And when we resist the urge to rescue every time, we allow resilience to develop. 

If we think again about that future version of our child, the strengths we hope to see won’t be built in moments when we protected or rescued them. The strengths of character will grow from the challenges, wobbles and setbacks encountered with a calm adult quietly supporting them. Our job as parents isn’t to clear every hurdle. Our role is to guide (when needed) and to show our children we believe they can cope. When we show that confidence, they begin to absorb it and, over time, it becomes their own.