My son’s first day of kindergarten threatened to break my heart into a million pieces. It is a memory seared into my mind.
I will never forget holding his hand as we walked into school. The hallways teemed with kids and parents, chaotic like a kicked-over anthill. We made our way toward the kindergarten wing, where we were met with an unexpected barricade of tables. That was the checkpoint. From there, he would have to walk to class on his own.
He squeezed my hand tightly, then turned to me with tears welling in his eyes. His voice trembled, and his lower lip quivered as he said, “Mommy, I’m not ready.”
In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to scoop him up and take him home. I imagined myself stepping in as his hero, saying, “We don’t have to do this today.” But instead, I knelt down, looked him in the eyes, and told him everything was going to be okay, and that he was going to be great.
Only after he turned the corner did I bury my face in my husband’s shoulder and sob.
Part of me wanted to “rescue” my son because it hurt so much to see him anxious and full of self-doubt. But there was another part of me that knew the truth: he was ready. I knew it in my gut. And I knew I had to let him go.
As parents, we want nothing more than to protect our kids. Sometimes, that means stepping in. But other times, swooping in is not what’s best. Knowing when to intervene and when to step back can feel like walking a tightrope without a net.
A Lesson in Listening
About a year ago, we had to move our youngest child to a new daycare unexpectedly. At first, he adjusted well. He was excited, curious, and open. But after a few weeks, everything changed.
Suddenly, he began having a hard time going to school. He said he “hated it” and started talking about being afraid of his teacher. Some mornings were mild, with a few tears. On others, he had full-blown meltdowns.
It was alarming. This wasn’t like him. Even though he was only four, his statements felt serious. Over the course of a couple of weeks, my gut kept whispering, “Something is wrong.”
As both a parent and a therapist, I believe in trusting our instincts. We know our kids. We can tell when they are getting sick, when something feels off, or when their mood has shifted.
But instincts aren’t infallible. Sometimes, our “gut” is influenced by our own anxiety, stress, or assumptions. So how do we know when our instincts are signaling a real concern versus when we’re overthinking?
Gut Feeling or Anxiety?
During that daycare transition, I was convinced my gut was speaking to me. I almost went directly to the school director to voice my concerns. But one day, after a particularly difficult drop-off, I decided to talk to his teacher first.
She helped me understand what was really going on.
He was still adjusting to a major change. Even small shifts in his routine were throwing him off. He wasn’t scared of his teacher—he was overwhelmed by unfamiliarity. He needed more time.
If I had acted solely on what I thought my instincts were telling me, I may have made a choice that didn’t help him.
So how can we tell the difference between a gut feeling and anxiety?
What Gut Feelings Tend to Look Like:
- Sudden and instinctive in nature
- Do not escalate quickly
- Feel persistent and grounded
- Often lead to proactive, action-oriented steps
What Anxiety Often Looks Like:
- Involves overthinking and worst-case scenario spirals
- Leads to emotional escalation as you ruminate
- Tends to produce reactive responses and circular problem-solving
When you’re unsure whether to intervene, start by identifying the source of your thoughts and feelings.
Ask yourself:
What have I actually observed?
Has your child’s schoolwork suddenly become more difficult? Has their energy or mood changed? Look for the concrete changes in behavior that deviate from their baseline. This kind of fact-checking helps separate emotion from evidence.
Also ask:
What information might I be missing, and who can I talk to about it?
We have an overwhelming number of resources available at our fingertips, but information overload can be paralyzing. If you dig long enough online, you’ll find that advice often contradicts itself.
Instead, gather information from trusted sources. Talk to your child’s teacher, pediatrician, or other adults involved in your child’s life—like coaches, tutors, or close family members. They offer valuable outside perspectives and can help you determine if further steps are necessary.
With those insights, you can decide whether to seek additional support or services and navigate the next steps more confidently.
The Bottom Line
As parents, we feel an enormous responsibility to protect our kids. That instinct is deeply human. But we don’t have to do it alone.
When we pause to understand why we’re feeling concerned, we can act with clarity instead of panic. A proactive, informed approach gives us a clearer picture of what our child needs—and which steps to take next.
Letting go when we need to, and stepping in when it counts is one of the hardest balancing acts in parenting. But learning to trust the right signals helps us support our kids, not just with love but with wisdom.
Michelle Overman is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in Austin, TX. In her free time, she enjoys spending time with her husband and two young boys.
