As my daughter prepares for her first day of kindergarten, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by a whirlwind of worries. What if she encounters that bossy little girl from her summer camp who makes others feel small? What if she’s so exhausted after a long day that she dozes off on the bus and misses her stop? The thought of her bumping into something and hitting her head on a corner, followed by that all-too-familiar embarrassment without a comforting hug or a stuffed animal to cuddle, is unsettling.
There’s also the possibility that she might not realize she’s singing out loud and gets hushed by her teacher, or that she overhears a classmate use hurtful words for the first time. And what if a fifth grader tells her something inappropriate that she’s too young to understand? The fear of her being judged or ridiculed looms large.
In a world where tragedy can strike unexpectedly, I can’t shake the horrific thought of her being in a dangerous situation. My therapist emphasizes that to combat these anxious thoughts, I should confront the irrational beliefs that fuel them. Am I genuinely afraid of something catastrophic happening? Not really. Statistically, schools are safe environments. Do I believe that every possible mishap will occur? No, deep down I hope for the best.
So why am I so anxious about her first day? It’s because I see so much of myself in her. She resembles me in looks and mannerisms, has similar interests, and shares my struggles. Just like I did, she gets distracted easily, feels overwhelmed, and has a strong opinion about everything. If she mirrors my traits, could it be that she has also inherited my anxiety and the accompanying feelings of shame?
My own childhood memories are tinged with moments of isolation and embarrassment—like being scolded for humming or misreading a word in class. These memories linger, and I worry about her experiencing the same feelings. How can I protect her from lying awake at night, replaying her day and wishing she had done things differently? If my parents, who were loving and attentive, couldn’t shield me, how can I do better for her?
I didn’t seek help for my anxiety until I was much older. My husband pointed out that living in constant fear wasn’t normal. Now, I realize I need to create an action plan for my daughter. If she falls asleep on the bus, the driver will alert me. If she faces unkindness, I’ll be there to discuss it with her teacher. In case she hears something inappropriate, we will have an open conversation about it.
If my daughter does struggle with anxiety, I will reassure her of my unconditional love and remind her of her strengths. I will pass on the coping strategies I’ve learned in therapy. If necessary, I won’t hesitate to seek professional help for her as well. I want her to know that her unique brain is capable of amazing things. I’ll remind her that kindergarten will be a thrilling adventure filled with learning and friendships, and I look forward to welcoming her home at the end of her first day.
In summary, while the anxieties surrounding my daughter’s first day of kindergarten feel overwhelming, I understand that I can guide her through it. With love and support, I can help her navigate her new experiences and reassure her of her strength. For more on managing these feelings, check out resources like WebMD for helpful insights.