Anxiety isn’t the problem, but the response to anxiety can be. Here’s how to turn it around.

When the response to anxiety becomes the problem.

Anxiety is a normal human response designed to warn us of danger. If there is true danger, the drive to avoid means anxiety is doing its job. When this happens, our job is to help them move to safety.

Most often though, anxiety means we are about to do something safe and brave, important, hard. When this happens, our job is to help them to learn that they can feel anxious and do brave.

This can happen one little step at a time, but it starts with changing how we think of anxiety.

The more we treat anxiety as a problem or as something to be avoided, the more we inadvertently turn them away from the safe, growthful, brave things that drive it.

On the other hand, when we make space for anxiety, let it in, welcome it, be with it, the more we make way for them to recognise that anxiety isn’t something they need to avoid. They can feel anxious and do brave.

We have to stop pathologising anxiety.

Every time we pathologise a child with anxiety, we lose an opportunity to strengthen them against it.

Yes they might have extreme anxiety, and yes anxiety makes things feel hard, and yes they are capable of doing hard things.

It doesn’t matter how quickly they move towards brave or how small the steps are. What’s important is not avoiding new, hard, brave things completely.

Being brave isn’t about ‘no anxiety’. In fact, whenever there is a need for brave behaviour, there will always be anxiety. It’s the existence of anxiety that makes it brave. The key to strengthening children isn’t about ‘never experiencing anxiety’, but about knowing they can handle anxiety. This will only come from experience.

As long as what they are doing is safe, we don’t have to ‘fix’ their anxiety. Their anxiety isn’t a sign of breakage. It’s a sign that they’re dealing with something hard, brave, new, or important.

When we pathologise a child with anxiety (‘You can’t do this because you are anxious,’), we inadvertently do two things:

– we confirm the deficiency story that tends to come with anxiety, ‘I’m not strong enough/ brave enough/ good enough to do hard things.’

– we send the message that anxiety is something that should be avoided. The problem with this is that we also send the message that the things that drive anxiety should be avoided. This will include all brave, hard, new, important things, which always come with anxiety.

When they avoid anxiety, they avoid the experiences they need to learn they can handle anxiety – and this wisdom will only come from experience. It doesn’t matter how long this takes or how small the steps are. It also doesn’t matter if they handle this terribly. What matters is the experience and that they don’t feel alone in the experience.

This can happen in tiny steps, each one braver than the last. Each of these steps, however awful they feel, show them they can feel anxious and do brave.

If we want them to know they can feel anxious and do brave, we have to make anxiety ‘be-withable’.

Living bravely with anxiety is about sharing the space with it, not being pushed out by it.

Rather than,‘What’s wrong with you?’ or ‘We need to fix you,’ we have to normalise it: ‘Of course you have anxiety! You’re doing some big things at the moment. How can I help?’

Even when anxiety is extreme and suffocating, we have to normalise the anxiety part of it. Why? Because the more we pathologise anxiety, the more we fuel anxiety about the anxiety.

The experience of anxiety is normal. The intensity might be extreme and unbearable, but the anxiety is normal.

As long as they are truly safe, the intensity of anxiety will be fuelled by anxiety about the anxiety and the story (the reason) they put to their anxiety.

To change the response to anxiety, we have to change the story we put to anxiety.

We humans instinctively put a story to our feelings to make sense of them. When anxiety hits, we automatically ask, ‘Why do I feel like this?’ The brain will often answer with a story of disaster, ‘Because something bad is about to happen,’ or a story of deficiency, ‘Because there’s something wrong with me.’

But there’s another reason: ‘Because I’m moving outside of what feels comfortable and normal for me.’

Stories of disaster or deficiency drive the brain into bigger distress, which intensifies the physiology of anxiety, which amplifies the need to avoid.

Often, this avoidance isn’t about needing to avoid the actual thing (even though it will feel that way). It’s about avoiding the anxiety.

The ‘can’t’ is about the anxiety, not the thing they need to do. This is why we need to make anxiety more be-withable, and change the story they (and we) put to anxiety.

Believe them, that their anxiety feels big AND believe in them, that they can handle the ‘big’.

As long as they are safe, let them know this. Let them see you believing them that this feels big, and believing in them, that they can handle the big.

Believe them AND believe in them.

‘Yes this is hard. I know how much you don’t want to do this. It feels big, doesn’t it. And I know you can do big things, even when it feels like you can’t. How can I help?’


‘Yes this feels scary. Of course it does – you’re doing something important/ new/ hard. I know you can do this. How can I help you feel brave?’

Name their wish to avoid AND their capacity to approach. One doesn’t cancel out the other.  

‘I know it feels like you can’t, and I know you can. This is happening and we’re going to handle it together. What would make it easier?’

You might not be able to respond in these ways every time, and that’s okay. What matters is:

  • being intentional,
  • making sure they don’t feel alone and unseen in the experience (which is why validation – believing them – is important), and
  • knowing that every time they experience handling the discomfort of anxiety to move towards something important (even if they don’t handle it well) they are learning that the presence of anxiety doesn’t change how brave or capable they are.

They won’t believe in themselves until we show them what they are capable of. For this, we’ll have to believe in their ‘can’ more than they believe in their ‘can’t’.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


Join our newsletter

We would love you to follow us on Social Media to stay up to date with the latest Hey Sigmund news and upcoming events.

Follow Hey Sigmund on Instagram

It’s the simple things that are everything. We know play, conversation, micro-connections, predictability, and having a responsive reliable relationship with at least one loving adult, can make the most profound difference in buffering and absorbing the sharp edges of the world. Not all children will get this at home. Many are receiving it from childcare or school. It all matters - so much. 

But simple isn’t always easy. 

Even for children from safe, loving, homes with engaged, loving parent/s there is so much now that can swallow our kids whole if we let it - the unsafe corners of the internet; screen time that intrudes on play, connection, stillness, sleep, and joy; social media that force feeds unsafe ideas of ‘normal’, and algorithms that hijack the way they see the world. 

They don’t need us to be perfect. They just need us to be enough. Enough to balance what they’re getting fed when they aren’t with us. Enough talking to them, playing with them, laughing with them, noticing them, enjoying them, loving and leading them. Not all the time. Just enough of the time. 

But first, we might have to actively protect the time when screens, social media, and the internet are out of their reach. Sometimes we’ll need to do this even when they fight hard against it. 

We don’t need them to agree with us. We just need to hear their anger or upset when we change what they’ve become used to. ‘I know you don’t want this and I know you’re angry at me for reducing your screen time. And it’s happening. You can be annoyed, and we’re still [putting phones and iPads in the basket from 5pm] (or whatever your new rules are).’♥️
What if schools could see every ‘difficult’ child as a child who feels unsafe? Everything would change. Everything.♥️
Consequences are about repair and restoration, and putting things right. ‘You are such a great kid. I know you would never be mean on purpose but here we are. What happened? Can you help me understand? What might you do differently next time you feel like this? How can we put this right? Do you need my help with that?’

Punishment and consequences that don’t make sense teach kids to steer around us, not how to steer themselves. We can’t guide them if they are too scared of the fallout to turn towards us when things get messy.♥️
Anxiety is driven by a lack of certainty about safety. It doesn’t mean they aren’t safe, and it certainly doesn’t mean they aren’t capable. It means they don’t feel safe enough - yet. 

The question isn’t, ‘How do we fix them?’ They aren’t broken. 

It’s, ‘How do we fix what’s happening around them to help them feel so they can feel safe enough to be brave enough?’

How can we make the environment feel safer? Sensory accommodations? Relational safety?

Or if the environment is as safe as we can make it, how can we show them that we believe so much in their safety and their capability, that they can rest in that certainty? 

They can feel anxious, and do brave. 

We want them to listen to their anxiety, check things out, but don’t always let their anxiety take the lead.

Sometimes it’s spot on. And sometimes it isn’t. Whole living is about being able to tell the difference. 

As long as they are safe, let them know you believe them, and that you believe IN them. ‘I know this feels big and I know you can handle this. We’ll do this together.’♥️

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This
Secret Link