Quieting the Worry Voice in Parenting

When Worry Gets Loud, Connection Gets Lost

Do you ever have those moments when your kiddo is sharing with you and you’re doing all the “right” things? You are listening, reflecting, maybe asking a clarifying question or two. You are trying hard not to give unsolicited advice, and they are just venting away. From the outside you may look calm and present, but on the inside you feel something very different.

I know that feeling well. And the “different” varies. Sometimes I notice judgment rising, sometimes anxiety, sometimes anger. But when I step back, I can see that it all comes from worry.

And wow, does my worried part have a lot to say. She is loud, insecure, and has a PhD in catastrophic thinking.

She does not trust me, she does not trust my kids, and she definitely does not trust the adolescent journey. Her perspective is narrow. She invents wild stories where my kids fail every test, never make friends, and live in my basement forever. She also obsesses about how other people see us, which is ridiculous because half the time other parents are just trying to survive the same madness.

Here is the thing though: worry is sneaky.

It pretends to be useful, like it is protecting my kids, but really it just blocks me from seeing who they actually are. Don’t get me wrong, when it comes to parenting, worrying is part of the job description. However, when I let worry drive, I forget my kids are resilient, capable, and can handle discomfort. I forget they can survive a bad day, a heartbreak from a friend or partner, or even a major skin break-out.

And when I stop seeing their strengths, they stop seeing them too.

The good news is, when there is a real problem to address, I can usually find the part of me that knows what to do. And I bet you can too. That part is calmer, takes a deep breath, maybe phones a friend for support, maybe hides in the bathroom for five minutes to reset. The “problem solver” in me remembers my kids can figure things out, even if it’s not the exact path I would take. And in those moments, I remember how capable I am too. My worried part tend to forget all of that.

Sometimes she just needs to be told, kindly but firmly, “thank you for your concern, I see you and you are not in charge here.”  

Yes…this is very abstract. But go with it.

Here is what I am learning:

When I meet my worried part with compassion and a sense of humor, it shrinks.

It no longer hijacks every interaction with my kids. And when I can see them clearly, the connection between us gets stronger. They feel seen, I feel steadier, and we all remember that we are tougher than the stories worry spins. This level of emotional awareness is a daily practice. One that requires time, curiosity, and consistency. This is what therapeutic parenting is all about. Merging the deep self-awareness with mindful daily habits that change the landscape of how you show up for yourself and for your family.

And, if you can’t tell, we are definitely in this together. Thanks for taking the time to read this.