Written by: Bri and Kristen G
August 3, 2025
A journey in supporting our daughters with anxieties
Between the two of us, we’re raising two daughters with very different types of anxiety, one a teenager whose social anxiety can feel completely debilitating, and the other a child whose food anxiety is so intense she would rather go hungry than eat. As moms, we lean on each other for support, share our fears and frustrations, and celebrate even the smallest victories together.
Bri:
My daughter is deep in the teenage years, and like many parents, I’ve often found myself blaming her social anxiety on the impact of COVID. Maybe that’s just an easy scapegoat, but it doesn’t make what she’s going through any less real. There are so many tools out there to help our kids, but if we don’t even know they exist, how can we offer them? I used to vent to Kristen, feeling frustrated that my daughter would rather stay in her room than come to a family gathering. But when I finally sat down and really listened, I discovered something deeper: she didn’t want the attention. She avoided birthday parties, not because she didn’t like people, but because the idea of being sung to or opening gifts in front of others made her incredibly anxious. It wasn’t defiance—it was fear. And that changed everything for me.
Kristen G:
My daughter is now a pre-teen, but her struggle with food anxiety began long before she had the words to explain what she was feeling. In those early years, we followed every recommendation from doctors and specialists, trying to find something that would make eating feel easier for her. Some foods she’d accept, most she wouldn’t. And while we kept trying, there was always this quiet ache in me. I could see she was struggling, but I didn’t know how to help. I didn’t yet understand what she needed, and she couldn’t yet tell me. Those early years were filled with guesswork and lot of prayer, trying to decode a language she didn’t yet have words for. And in the quiet moments, I often wished I could trade places with her, just to understand what felt so hard. But as the years passed and her voice grew stronger, something in me shifted too. Now that she’s older and able to express herself, I’ve come to realize that my role isn’t to fix it, but to walk alongside her. Supporting her means encouraging without pushing too hard, offering consistency while also allowing space, giving her the autonomy to feel safe and the confidence to find her voice. To complicate things, she also has a peanut allergy (which I’ll share more about in a future post), that has deepened her anxiety around food. Even moments that should feel simple, like sharing a meal at a friend’s house or going out to dinner, can feel layered and overwhelming for both of us. But we’re learning together. And that, more than any meal plan or feeding strategy, has made all the difference.
Though our daughters struggle with very different types of anxiety, we’ve found real support in each other. Together, we’ve created safe spaces where our girls can express their fears, feel heard, and know their emotions are valid, while still being gently encouraged to take steps forward. Bri is a sounding board for Kristen’s daughter, and Kristen is a steady source of support for Bri’s. We remind them often: It’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay to be scared. But facing those fears, whether it’s meeting up with friends or going to a restaurant, can make things feel a little easier over time. We try to stay calm, using encouraging words like, “We’ve got this together,” “It’s okay to feel nervous,” or “What part feels the scariest right now?” Our goal isn’t to erase their fear, but to help them learn how to move through it with support, strength, and understanding.
Bri:
My daughter just wanted a pill to make the anxiety go away, and I understand that. But I wanted her to have more than a quick fix. I wanted her to have real tools, to talk to a therapist, and learn how to manage what she was feeling. If medication became part of that journey, we’d face it together. What mattered most to me was that she had a safe space to open up and with someone trained in anxiety. And if she needed to talk to me, I would listen all day long. I just don’t want her to miss out on life because of anxiety, to skip birthday parties, sit out of activities, or carry regrets. So we face it together. Yes, she has to have a birthday party… I know, I know, forcing your kid to have a birthday party. We talk, we compromise, and she learns that stepping into discomfort can be survivable, and sometimes even rewarding. I want her to be surrounded by friends, to join a team, to learn how to work through conflict and collaboration. These aren’t just experiences; they’re life skills. And anxiety doesn’t get to take them away.
Kristen G:
Up until recently, taking my daughter to a friend’s house (or gasp) a restaurant, felt like I wasn’t just prepping for a meal, I was preparing for an emotional obstacle course. I’d pack food or feed her ahead of time, plan escape routes, and silently rehearse how to dodge awkward questions. The funny thing is, she never asked me to do any of that. That anxiety? All mine. I wanted to shield her from the awkwardness of eating in front of others, but I’ve learned that letting her speak for herself, and letting trusted friends and family speak into her, has actually helped her feel more confident and safe. She’s learning to ask questions, get reassurance, and take control of the situation. And I’m learning to unclench. We’ve also had the support of some incredible feeding teams at our local children’s hospitals (pediatricians, dietitians, therapists) all helping us navigate this path through the years. They’ve equipped her with tools to handle anxious moments, and maybe more importantly, they’ve taught me to back off just enough to let her use them. These days, I can finally relax a bit at loved ones’ homes. I no longer hover with a packed meal or eye the dining table like it’s a landmine field. I trust her voice, and I trust the people around us to meet her where she’s at. As for restaurants…those are still trickier, but we’ve found our rhythm. I usually scope things out ahead of time by checking menus, calling to ask about allergens, or letting her read the options herself so she knows what to expect. That little bit of prep helps her feel more in control walking in… and helps me show up as her mom, not her manager.
As moms navigating two very different journeys with anxiety, we’ve come to realize that while the triggers may differ, the heart of the struggle, and the love behind our support, is the same. We’ve learned to listen more, to react less, and to meet our daughters where they are, not where we wish they’d be. Whether it’s guiding a teen through the quiet panic of social anxiety or helping a child face overwhelming fears around food and eating, our goal is to help them move forward, not perfectly, but bravely. This blog is our way of sharing that journey with you. We hope our stories remind you that you’re not alone, that progress is possible, and that there’s strength in walking through fear, one step, one meal, one birthday party at a time. Together, we can raise brave kids with anxious hearts, and be brave moms right alongside them.
