When she said to us “don’t worry about it”, I knew we had gotten it all wrong.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone about something that was worrying you and when you didn’t get what you needed from the conversation, so you said “don’t worry about it”?

What about your children? Have they ever said that to you?

This was us last night!

Sitting around the dinner table, as we ate, my daughter (10) said that she had been picked for the school football tournament and was feeling unsure and anxious about it all. You see, she hasn’t played liked her big sister has, so this was all very new for her, even though she does have some natural talent.

As I sat there listening to the conversation unfold, I was focusing on her body language and the tone of her voice.

What I noticed was, as parents and even siblings, we are quick to respond in ways in which we think we need to respond.

We say things to build them up rather than listening to what is not being said and asking questions to understand, instead.

Whilst we (her father, sister and I) tried to convince her of all the reasons why she was good enough, I suddenly knew it wasn’t about that.

What she was wanting was to talk through how she was thinking which was making her feel the way she was.

You see—The problem is never the problem. The problem is the way we think about the problem.

From all the conversations I have had with my daughter, I have learnt that she is thinker. She gets into her head especially when she doesn’t know how things work, what the purpose is, or what the desired outcome is in something. She also likes to talk things out and make sense of what is going on.

(Deep down she probably knows she is good enough because she is confident in her abilities most of the time). What she needed, was our validation and acknowledgement including her own understanding for why she was feeling this way and, a for a way forward.

We need to remember that no matter how young or old they are, our children feel like we feel, they hold onto pain and worry like we do, and they need to know that how they feel is completely normal, and OK.

When we make it about us, instead of them (meaning—we don’t really understand or know how to help so we will try to be helpful by saying things like “oh you’ll be fine, or don’t worry it will work out”, or in our case “you are good enough”), we are abandoning them in their time of vulnerability. If this happens time after time, you may start to see them distance themselves or, stop coming to you about certain things altogether.

If children are not offered the time and guidance to explore their feelings, they won’t build the muscle of resilience and problem solving, and they will continue to have ongoing anxiety, or behaviours. This is true for us adults too, and maybe you can relate.

As a Coach, I know how important it is to hear what is not being said. I know how to create space for someone and just listen. I am comfortable in silence. I know how to nurture, validate and acknowledge and, I know how to ask questions rather than giving advice. For most people though, they haven’t yet learnt these important skills.

After I had put her to bed, I went to bed, and like most kids she got back up shortly after. (I know that she would have felt bad for getting up and needing me when I was already in bed, because she has a sensitive heart like that, so I knew I needed to be gentle and patient with her.) 

I asked what was wrong and she said she could not sleep.

I told her she just needed to lay there and will eventually fall asleep.

Covering her face with her teddy ever so meek and mild, she mumbled that she can’t stop thinking about how nervous she feels.

I asked if this was about the football tournament, and she said yes.

I told her to go to her room and start writing down some things that were worrying her and I will be in, in a moment.

When I went in, she was just sitting on her bed with an empty pad and pen.

(Oh my beautiful little girl, I am so glad you came to me and didn’t lay in your bed feeling this way)

What an awful way to fall asleep. A way in which far too many people lay on their pillow at night.

I gave her a hug and thanked her for letting me know how she was feeling and that she was not alone.

She said she was sorry for getting me up.

(I knew it! I knew she felt bad, and in that moment, I wondered how many nights she had been laying there this way, not wanting to get me out of bed)

Instead of telling her what to do, I now needed to ask her what she wanted to do?

How did she need to work through it?

By giving her choices and allowing her to make decisions, will help her to feel in control.

To get things started, I asked if she would like to work through this together and she said yes.

She wrote down the heading–Rippa (which is the football game)

I asked her specific questions so that she could think about them and together we could unpack them further.

What things are worrying you?

Is there something you would like to know more about?

What is one thing you could do? What else?

Do you need any help? If so, what do you need?

At first, she was very slow to get going.

I knew she knew what she wanted to write; however, she was hesitant to write it down.

I let her know that there was no right or wrong answers and that it was completely ok to write down anything that came to her mind. This gave her the confidence to start making her list, and she was even able to come up with worries, solutions and questions.

Together we worked through this. It took 10 mins of creating a safe, space where she could get this out of her head, onto paper and the opportunity to work through it.

I told her that if ever she feels this way, a good first step is to write it all down. It gets it out of your mind and in front of you so that you can see it more clearly.

I asked her if that was a good tool for her and she said yes because sometimes she can fall asleep and forget about her worries but then when she wakes up, they are there again.

I told her this was completely normal and that it even happens to me. That’s why I too like to write it down.

I asked her how she was feeling now, and she said good.

I asked if she now knew what she needed to do and she said yes.

I asked if she needed me to support her to ask some of these questions and she said no. She said she felt confident to ask the football coach herself.

I could tell that the weight had been lifted, her mood was lighter, and she was more open.

I asked if she felt as though she could sleep now or, was there more we needed to work through.

She said no mum. I feel good now, but can you leave my lamp on.

I gave her a big hug, tucked her back in and kissed her goodnight.

(A week ago she told me she was a big girl now and didn’t need her lamp anymore. It just goes to show that even though she was able to work through what she was going through, she still needed some extra comfort because working on something internally can be an emotionally big and overwhelming).

I am so grateful for many lessons learned last night.

We had assumed that the problem was that she didn’t feel good enough and so, we responded based on that.

However, it wasn’t about that at all?

And because it wasn’t about that and she was not getting what she needed, she said “don’t worry”!

I’m glad she came to me later on because we now know how we can be, and what we can do differently next time.

So let me ask you again. Are you listening to understand or are you listening to respond?

If there is one thing that you could do differently, I wonder if it could be this.