Your Child Isn't the Only One Growing

When my 5-year-old daughter started camp for the first time this week, I expected her to have big feelings.

What I didn't fully expect was how deeply it would affect me.

As I watched her walk into a new environment filled with many unfamiliar faces, I found myself worrying about all the things many parents worry about:

Would she be safe?
Would she make friends?
Would she remember to eat lunch?
Reapply the sunscreen that I forgot to apply?
Go potty?
Would someone help her if she felt overwhelmed?
Would she have fun?

I conducted a full sociological study of the playground, including an in-depth analysis of the relationship dynamics of 4- and 5-year-olds, while lurking in the parking lot.

As it turns out, those worries weren't just about her. They were about me, too.

Why Transitions Can Feel So Hard for Parents

Whether it's the first day of daycare, a new school, summer camp, a sleepover, or even a playdate, transitions often bring up more than we expect.

On the surface, we're worried about our children, of course.

Underneath, we’re worried about our children, of course, and we may also be grappling with uncertainty, loss of control, old fears, and memories from our own childhood.

We often think parenting is about raising children.
We don't talk nearly enough about how parenting raises us, too.
How motherhood breaks us open, asks us to heal, and helps us grow in ways we never expected.

It invites us to revisit old experiences, old wounds, and old beliefs we may not even realize we're still carrying. It forces us to work through any fears that are still lurking and seeming to pop up at the most inopportune times.

Old grief can resurface from some of the most seemingly innocuous actions.

Our child standing alone in a classroom can suddenly remind us what it felt like to be left out.
A difficult friendship can bring us back to our own struggles.
Our child's disappointment can awaken sensitive memories of our own.

This isn't because we're doing anything wrong. It's because parenting has a unique way of touching parts of us that have been quietly waiting for our attention.

Being a mother and watching your heart exist outside of your body in the form of your child leaves no part of your psyche untouched.

When Your Child's Experience Activates Your Own

One of the most surprising parts of being a parent is realizing that our children's experiences don't happen in isolation. They interact with our own stories.

If you've ever found yourself feeling disproportionately emotional about a seemingly small situation, it may be worth asking:

What is this bringing up for me? Is this about my child’s feelings or mine? Or both?

Sometimes the answer has nothing to do with the present moment.

Maybe you're remembering what it felt like to be chosen last.
Maybe you're remembering a friendship that ended painfully.
Maybe you're remembering a time when you felt lonely, uncertain, or like you didn't belong.

The goal isn't to eliminate these reactions. The goal is to become aware of them.

Awareness helps us respond thoughtfully instead of automatically.

It allows us to support our children without asking them to carry our unfinished stories. It helps us avoid passing down our anxieties and insecurities. After all, they’ll find plenty of their own (on their own). They don't need ours.

Three Questions to Ask Yourself

The next time you notice yourself feeling activated by something your child is experiencing, consider the following:

1. What am I worried about right now?

Try to get specific. Don't censor yourself. There's no wrong answer.

Are you worried about your child's safety?
Their happiness?
Their friendships?
Their ability to cope?
How much you will both miss each other during the day?
Something going on in your life that is not related?

Naming the fear (or emotion) doesn’t make it disappear. It does, however, reduce its power. Building awareness is empowering. Awareness creates choice by giving us space to process and intentionally choose how we wish to respond.

2. What story am I telling myself? (Note the word ‘story’.)

Our minds are remarkably good at filling in blanks and turning any thought into a ‘fact’.

Our child standing alone for a moment can quickly become: "They'll never make friends," when in all actuality, they just wanted a moment to themselves.
One difficult day can become: "They're going to hate camp. This summer will be a disaster," when in all actuality, they were just hot, hungry, and tired.

Notice the difference between what is happening and the story your mind is creating.

3. What is this bringing up for me?

This question often reveals the deeper layer. Many (if not all) parenting triggers have roots in our own experiences.

Sometimes our children's experiences bump into old fears, old memories, and old stories we didn't even realize we were still carrying.

What looks like worry about our child is sometimes also a reflection of us.

Understanding those connections can help us respond with more compassion for both our children and ourselves.

This also helps deepen our self-awareness and spotlight opportunities for our own growth and healing.

The Goal Isn't to Prevent Every Hard Feeling

As parents, it's natural to want to protect our children from disappointment, rejection, loneliness, and hurt. I certainly do. I have to hold back my mama bear self in the playground, especially.

But the truth is, we can't prevent every hard experience. Nor should we. But we can model and teach our kids how to navigate discomfort.

Those are very different goals.

No child gets included all the time.
No child gets chosen all the time.
No child gets the friend they want every time.

That’s not failure. That’s life.

What we hope for isn't a childhood free from those moments. We hope they build the confidence to survive them. Resilience isn't built by avoiding discomfort.

It's built by learning that we can move through it. Part of our jobs as parents isn’t protecting our children from every difficult feeling. It’s helping them learn the tools to work through them and not hide from them. It’s in helping them learn that difficult or complex feelings can be felt, named, and moved through.

Our children don't need perfect childhoods. They need support, connection, and opportunities to discover their own strength.

And we do, too. After all, learning is also non-linear.

Gentle Reminder

If you're finding yourself emotional about a transition, a friendship challenge, a camp drop-off, or a new season of parenting, take a breath. It's normal. You're not failing, you're feeling.

There may be more happening beneath the surface than you realize. Your child is growing. And so are you.

That doesn't mean you need to have all the answers.

It simply means you're human.

And sometimes the growth happening inside us is just as important as the growth happening inside our children.

The journey is non-linear for both of you.

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If this season of motherhood is bringing up more than you expected, you're not alone.

I created my guided journal and Truth Cards as gentle companions for the emotional side of motherhood—because sometimes the thing we need most is a reminder that our feelings make sense.

You can explore them in Your Non-Linear Journey Shop.