Walking Alongside My Anxious Child

My daughter whispered one night, ‘My heart feels too big for my chest,’ and in that moment, I realized childhood anxiety isn’t just a phase you can soothe with a hug. Behind her small frame was a storm raging quietly — a struggle shared by one in five children her age. This isn’t medical advice, but a parent’s story of navigating the hidden battles beneath. The adjustments came in stealthily. Morning pancakes were battlegrounds for “tummy aches,” and sleepovers with her dearest friend resulted in crying refusals. I misinterpreted her tightened jaw during homework time for stubbornness until her teacher explained that she had been hiding in the bathroom throughout group work. What appeared to be disobedience was often panic, a truth that many parents overlook until the puzzle pieces fall into place.

Her anxiety took various forms, including perfectionism over spelling tests, compulsive nail-biting before soccer games, and an avalanche of “What if?” worries that might disrupt slumber. The turning point occurred when I discovered her reorganising her bookcase at 2 a.m., talking to herself about “being ready.” That’s when I stopped waiting for it to pass and began learning to walk alongside her.

Our first meaningful conversation occurred in the car, where eye contact is optional and the hum of tires does the hard lifting. I told her how scared I was before work presentations and showed her the breathing app on my phone. Her relief was evident; understanding that adults are terrified, she cracked wide the door. We now rate our worries like weather forecasts: “Today feels like a thundercloud 4” or “Maybe a drizzly 2.” Our therapist taught us the 5-4-3-2-1 game to play during meltdowns. We’d sit on the porch steps, listing five red items (the stop sign, her shoes) and four textures (bumpy brick, smooth phone), until her breathing slowed. It seemed funny at first, but she coached me through it during my own tense work call. Now, our family’s superpower is “grounding”. Two years later, she still has days when worry wins. But now I hear her discussing grounding techniques to her younger brother, witness her journaling through difficult feelings, and see her volunteer to speak first in presentations–“to get it over with.” Our mission is not to eradicate the darkness, but to provide them with illumination. I hope that maybe I helped someone with my story to better understand and to see, they are not alone in their struggle.