Stop Passing the Panic: How Our Anxieties Might Be Holding Our Kids Back

Parenting is basically one big exercise in what ifs. What if my kid gets sick? What if they fail that test? What if they don’t make the team/get the invite/remember their lines in the school play and burst into tears on stage while the other kids look confused? (Yes, that’s oddly specific, but my daughter’s are performers).

It’s normal to worry about our kids. They’re our people; of course we want to protect them. But sometimes, without meaning to, we project our own fears and anxieties onto them. And when that happens, we’re not shielding them anymore. We’re clipping their wings before they even know they can fly.

I know, because I’ve been there.

When Germs (and My Fears) Lurked Everywhere

Here’s the truth about me: I’ve had my fair share of personal battles with germophobia. I was not the parent that worried a ton about the other things listed above. But, for years, I was that parent with the hand sanitizer clipped to every bag, a strategic plan for minimizing playground exposure (hand wipes for the slide, anyone?), and a silent-but-judgy internal monologue about toddlers licking cart handles.

Some would call it germaphobia. I called it, “being prepared.” And the truth is I still have this awareness and I try to mitigate it. But I do not put it on my family nearly as much as I used to. I used to share my worry and anxiety over this openly. My husband had to talk me down a few times. I began to see how my daughter’s would look out for me and take steps to make sure I didn’t get worried about “germs.” As time went on I realized I needed help (and got it) and I shifted my actions and thoughts to ensure that I did not make my worries my kids worries. 

My family, bless them, tolerates my hyper-awareness. We now handle it with humor and balance. I am so grateful that I was able to not hinder my family’s experiences or my children’s growth because I didn’t let my anxiety stop us from living – I didn’t build a bubble and lock us inside. Sure, I stocked the Lysol like it was going out of style (still do) and avoided pen-sharing at work (because, honestly, ew). But I knew I couldn’t raise kids terrified of germs or getting sick just because I sometimes was.

Instead, I worked on handling my anxiety myself, because my fears shouldn’t be their fears. Did I quietly wipe down shopping cart handles? Absolutely. Did I also let them experience the world in messy and sometimes germy ways, like splashing in muddy puddles or holding on when we were on the New York City subway? Also yes. And you know what? They survived. Thrived, even.

Where Kids See Opportunity, We See Danger

Here’s the thing about kids. They’re wired for adventure. They want to take risks, explore, and occasionally do ridiculously illogical things like licking the school bus window (my worst nightmare) or seeing exactly how far they can fly off a swing (I loved this as a kid). They don’t live in fear of what might go wrong. That’s our baggage.

But when we voice our anxieties too loudly or step in to block every potential failure, it plants seeds of doubt. It tells them, “The world is scary,” or worse, “You can’t handle this.”

Worried about test scores? You spend so much time stressing out that they assume their whole worth rides on a multiple-choice answer. Nervous they’ll face rejection? They feel the weight and start avoiding risks altogether because, what’s the point if I’m going to fail anyway?

Our kids are watching us. They’re absorbing how we handle pressure, hurt, and failed attempts. The more they see us spiral, the more they’ll think this must be how you deal with challenges.

Rooted in Our Own Fears

When it really comes down to it, so much of this projection is tied to our fears. Fear of getting hurt. Fear of rejection. Fear of repeating our own childhood heartbreaks. Oh, and the greatest parenting anxiety of all time: fear of not being good enough.

Maybe you had a bad experience trying out for a team and vowed your kid would never feel that disappointment. Or you struggled with academics and think you can protect them from feeling “less than” by staying involved in every project and quiz. It’s human. But it’s also not their story to carry.

Here’s a hard truth I had to learn: my job isn’t to control the outcome. It’s to equip them to handle whatever comes their way. Because, spoiler alert, life will throw them curveballs. The question isn’t if they’ll deal with setbacks. It’s whether they’ll know how to handle them when they do.

The Power of Empowering

The best parenting hack I’ve learned over the years? Empower your kids to believe they can handle things. That means being their biggest cheerleader, even when you’re panicking inside. It’s saying, “You’ve got this,” even when you’re biting your tongue to stop yourself from jumping in to fix it.

Here’s how you can start giving them the tools they need to face the world confidently (without dumping your anxieties in their backpacks):

• Check your own emotions first. When you feel your heart squeeze over an upcoming test, tricky social situation, or unknown sports tryout, stop and ask, “Am I responding to their stress, or mine?” Sorting your stuff from theirs is game-changing.
• Talk about your own past struggles—but highlight what you learned. Share that time you failed, got rejected, or messed up, and how it made you stronger. Not from a lecturing angle, but to normalize failure as a stepping stone.
• Narrate your own moments of bravery. Whether it’s advocating for yourself at work or trying something new, show them that handling hard situations is a normal part of life.
• Validate their feelings, but don’t feed their fears. If they’re nervous, acknowledge it (“It’s okay to be scared of trying out!”) but balance it with optimism. (“Even if it doesn’t go how you want, you’ll be so proud you gave it a shot.”)
• Back off (a little). Resisting the urge to step in immediately not only frees up your mental load, but it teaches them resilience. They won’t know they can solve problems unless they face them.

A Funny Little Balance

Don’t get me wrong—I haven’t completely conquered my germ worries. Those tendencies don’t just evaporate overnight. There’s still a can of Lysol under my sink, and my coworkers know that still asking to borrow my pen is a bold move. But I’ve learned to manage my “stuff” without making it my kids’ “stuff.”

And guess what? They’re braver for it. They take chances. They speak up for themselves. They solve problems without always needing me to swoop in. That’s not because I wasn’t scared. It’s because I chose to show them I believed they could do it anyway.

And honestly? Watching them try, fail, and succeed not only built their confidence. It built mine, too.

The next time you catch yourself worrying about your child getting hurt, rejected, or disappointed, take a step back. Breathe. Remind yourself of this truth: our job isn’t to shield them from life. It’s to teach them they can handle it.

And if failure happens? If they slip, trip, or get knocked down? That’s okay. They’ll pick themselves up. And they’ll look back one day not remembering the challenges, but remembering that you believed in their ability to handle them.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to sanitize this keyboard. What? Personal growth doesn’t mean throwing out the Lysol wipes. Baby steps.