Mindful Parenting: How to Talk to Your Child About Anxiety

By Brandon Gimbel, MD

Anxiety is part of being human. It’s fear — and we’re all wired to feel it.

Sometimes our minds and bodies respond appropriately to a real threat.

Other times, they misfire.

As adults, we struggle with this distinction all the time.

Imagine how much harder it is for our children — still growing, still learning, without the experience we’ve gained.

This guide is for the moments when your child is struggling and you’re not sure what to do.

When you want to help, but don’t want to hover.

It’s an invitation to approach your child’s anxiety with curiosity, compassion, and care — and maybe, to grow alongside them.

Mindful Thought:

“We’re not here to erase our child’s anxiety, but to help them tolerate it — and maybe even understand it.”

Step 1: Recognizing Anxiety Without Rushing to Fix

The first step is simple, but not always easy: just notice.

Not fix. Not judge. Just notice.

Instead of saying, “You’re being anxious again,” try, “I can see something feels hard right now.” That shift — from labeling to observing — softens the moment. It tells your child, Your feelings are allowed. I’m here.

Curiosity can be validating. And validation usually leads to calming.

With kids or adults, it’s often enough just to feel seen. Having someone witness, someone understand — that’s often all we need.

Naming a feeling is a good place to start. Or with a child, you might ask, gently,

“What does your body feel like when you’re nervous?”

“What do you notice in your chest or your stomach?”

Watch what happens when they feel understood.

Watch them relax.

Step 2: Creating a Safe, Calm Container

Before words, start with presence.

Slow your breathing. Lower your voice.

Sit next to your child. Don’t say anything. Sit with the silence. Hold their hand, if they want that.

These small cues tell your child: This moment is safe.

From there, gently invite their story. Sometimes just saying, “I’m here,” is enough.

Other times, a soft question can open the door.

Then reflect back what you hear:

“It sounds like school felt really hard today.”

“It’s tough to feel left out.”

And again, we return to validation — not to fix, but to be with.

Step 3: Speaking with Compassion and Clarity

Words matter — especially in anxious moments.

Speak slowly. Calmly. Let your tone do as much as your words.

And name what’s happening — not to explain it away, but to validate it.

“Lots of people feel anxious. It’s something our bodies do to protect us — even when we’re not in danger.”

Metaphors can help.

Anxiety is like a superhero who shows up even when there’s no villain.

Sometimes Spider-Man is there to save the day. Other times, he’s just getting a cat out of a tree.

Step 4: Teaching Grounding and Mindfulness

Anxiety lives in the future. Grounding brings us back.

Start with the breath. Teach them to breathe with intention:

“Smell the flower… blow out the candle.”

It’s simple, visual, and often enough to begin settling the nervous system.

You can also use the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise to return to the senses:

5 things you see

4 you can touch

3 you hear

2 you smell

1 you taste

And if they’re open to it, try a basic loving-kindness practice — one that helps build compassion, first for others, then for themselves.

Say it aloud together:

“May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you care for yourself with kindness.”

And then, the harder part:

“May I be happy. May I be healthy. May I care for myself with kindness.”

As with everything here, your tone matters more than your script. If you’re going to teach it, let it be genuine.

Step 5: Letting Go and Knowing When to Reach Out

We can teach our children to ride the waves.

Mindfulness gives them tools — to sit with their feelings, to move through them, to trust that they’ll pass.

All emotions are temporary.

But some waves need more than presence.

If anxiety begins to interfere with sleep, school, friendships, or daily life, it might be time for extra support.

Let them know: asking for help is brave.

Meeting with a therapist or talking with a doctor isn’t failure — it’s another kind of strength.

It takes real courage to open up to someone.

As was told to me early in my career — and as I often remind patients, families, and colleagues at North Star:

Don’t worry alone.

You Are Not Alone

You don’t need to have the perfect words. You don’t need to have all the answers.

I certainly don’t.

But what I try to do — and what I encourage you to do — is even more important:

Just be there.

Your presence, your patience, your willingness to sit with hard feelings — those are the anchors your child will remember.

You don’t have to fix the wave.

You just have to ride it with them.

If you’re feeling uncertain, or wondering whether it might help to talk to someone, we’re here to walk alongside you.

Start the journey with us