Is Your Child in a Season of Change? How Therapy Can Help
Some seasons of life feel harder to navigate than others.
Change is part of life. Sometimes we choose it. Sometimes it chooses us.
For children and teens, change can look like starting a new school, moving into middle school, shifting friendships, a family move, divorce or separation, academic pressure, sports stress, a new sibling, adoption-related questions, or simply growing into a new stage of development.
Even good changes can feel hard.
A child can be excited about a new school and nervous about making friends. A teen can be proud of making a team and overwhelmed by the new expectations. A family can know a move is the right decision and still grieve what they are leaving behind.
Two things can be true at once.
And sometimes children simply do not have the words yet to explain what is happening inside.
Sometimes behavior tells the story first
As parents, it can be difficult to know what is an expected growing pain and what may be a sign that your child needs additional support.
Children often tell us how they are doing through their behavior before they can tell us with their words.
You may notice your child becoming:
More irritable or easily frustrated
Tearful or unusually sensitive
Withdrawn or quieter than usual
More anxious or worried
Tired, restless, or having trouble sleeping
More clingy or needing extra reassurance
Reluctant to go to school
Complaining of headaches or stomachaches
Harder on themselves
Less interested in things they normally enjoy
For teens, distress can sometimes look less like sadness and more like shutting down, snapping back, isolating, procrastinating, perfectionism, or answering every question with some version of:
“I don’t know.”
And sometimes they really don’t know.
They may just know that something feels off.
That is where slowing things down can help.
Name it to tame it
One of my favorite reminders is that when we can name what we are feeling, it becomes a little easier to manage.
“I’m nervous.”
“I’m disappointed.”
“I feel left out.”
“I’m mad that everything is changing.”
“I’m scared I won’t make friends.”
“I miss how things used to be.”
The name of the emotion gives us a clue about how to tame it.
If I’m nervous, I may need reassurance, preparation, or a calming strategy.
If I’m lonely, I may need connection.
If I’m angry, I may need space, movement, or help identifying what feels unfair.
If I’m overwhelmed, I may need to slow things down and take one step at a time.
If I’m disappointed, I may simply need someone to understand.
Naming a feeling does not magically make it disappear, but it gives us somewhere to start.
And sometimes a child does not need us to fix anything at all.
Sometimes they need hope, not help.
They need to hear:
“This is hard right now, but it won’t always feel this way.”
“You don’t have to have it all figured out today.”
“We’ll get through this.”
“There is hope for the next chapter.”
Sometimes the most helpful thing we can offer is simply being steady enough to sit beside them while they find their way through.
Self-talk is critical
The way children speak to themselves matters.
A lot.
During periods of change, their inner voice can get loud:
I can’t do this.
Everyone else has friends.
I’m going to mess this up.
Something is wrong with me.
I should be handling this better.
One of the skills we work on in therapy is helping children notice that voice and respond to it differently.
I often tell kids:
Talk to yourself the way you would talk to your best friend.
If your best friend were scared about starting a new school, would you tell her, “You’re going to have no friends and everything will be terrible”?
Probably not!
You might say:
“This is hard, but you can do hard things.”
“You don’t have to figure everything out today.”
“You can ask for help.”
“You haven’t found your people yet.”
That little word matters.
Add the word yet.
“I don’t have friends—yet.”
“I don’t understand this—yet.”
“I’m not comfortable here—yet.”
Yet leaves room for hope.
Therapy gives kids a place to practice
Therapy is not just sitting in a room talking about feelings.
Especially with children and teens, good therapy is often practical.
It is a place to practice.
Practice naming emotions.
Practice calming your body.
Practice speaking up.
Practice problem-solving.
Practice what to say to a friend.
Practice asking a teacher for help.
Practice making a mistake without deciding the whole day is ruined.
Practice getting back up.
Because resilience is not never falling.
Resilience is learning that you can fall, recover, and try again.
Sometimes we role-play conversations. Sometimes we make a plan. Sometimes we challenge an anxious thought. Sometimes we organize a backpack or break a giant problem into three small ones.
Sometimes a child just needs another trusted adult sitting beside them saying, “Okay. Let’s figure this out.”
That can be incredibly powerful.
Confidence comes from doing—not just hearing
We naturally want to reassure children.
“You’ll be fine!”
“Don’t worry!”
“Everyone loves you!”
And reassurance certainly has its place.
But children do not build lasting confidence simply by hearing that everything will work out.
They build confidence by experiencing:
I was worried, and I handled it.
I had a problem, and I solved it.
I didn’t know what to do, and I asked for help.
I made a mistake, and I repaired it.
I had a hard day, and I got back up the next morning.
That is the kind of confidence we want.
Not nothing hard will happen to me.
But:
I can handle hard things when they happen.
Teach them to be problem-solvers
One of the most important things we can instill in our children is the belief:
I am an effective problem-solver.
When something feels wrong, we don’t have to immediately panic, avoid it, or assume our first thought about the situation is completely accurate.
We can slow it down and look at the problem almost like a scientist.
The emotion is our first clue. It tells us that something has happened—or that we believe something has happened—that matters to us.
Then we can ask:
What happened?
What am I feeling?
What am I telling myself about what happened?
What evidence do I have that my perception is correct?
Do the facts support the thoughts I’m having about the situation?
Sometimes they do.
Maybe a friend really did say something hurtful. Maybe the test really was difficult. Maybe something genuinely unfair happened.
But sometimes our brain fills in information we don’t actually have.
“She didn’t sit with me, so she must not like me.”
“I got one bad grade, so I’m terrible at this.”
“They didn’t text me back, so they’re mad at me.”
“I’m nervous, so something bad must be about to happen.”
Sometimes a simple shift in thinking changes the entire problem.
Maybe she didn’t see me.
One grade is information, not a definition of me.
There could be ten reasons they haven’t answered yet.
Feeling nervous doesn’t mean I’m in danger.
And sometimes changing the thought is enough.
Other times, we need the other tools.
We may need to talk to someone, ask a question, apologize, set a boundary, make a plan, take a break, practice a coping skill, or ask for help.
The goal isn’t to teach children that every problem can be “thought away.”
It’s to teach them to pause, gather information, consider other possibilities, and decide what the problem actually needs.
That is confidence.
Not knowing that everything will go perfectly—but knowing:
When something goes wrong, I can figure out what to do next.
Sometimes kids need a job
When children are anxious, their attention can turn inward:
Do I look weird?
Does anyone like me?
What if I say something stupid?
One of my favorite ways to interrupt that spiral is to give them something else to notice.
Find the friendly face.
Look for someone who seems approachable.
Smile.
Offer a compliment.
Notice the person who may be sitting alone.
Ask someone a question.
Kindness is not just good for the person receiving it. It gives an anxious child something concrete to do instead of sitting inside their worry.
And deep down, we all want to feel like we belong.
Sometimes belonging starts with one tiny interaction.
Parents need support, too
When a child is struggling, parents often carry a tremendous amount of worry.
Am I doing enough?
Am I doing too much?
Should I push them?
Should I back off?
Is this normal?
Did I miss something?
Therapy can provide relief for parents, too.
You do not have to figure everything out alone.
A therapist can help you understand what may be underneath a behavior, decide when to support and when to encourage independence, develop practical strategies for home, and create consistency around the child.
Sometimes having another trusted adult help your child make sense of a difficult season brings steadiness back to the entire family.
When should you consider reaching out?
Some worry, sadness, frustration, or uncertainty is expected when life changes.
The question is not simply, “Is my child upset?”
A more helpful question is:
“Is this getting in the way of their ability to function, connect, sleep, learn, or enjoy life?”
Consider reaching out when symptoms are lasting, increasing, or interfering with everyday life—especially if you are seeing significant school avoidance, sleep changes, frequent physical complaints, withdrawal, intense anxiety, persistent sadness, or major changes in behavior.
You do not have to wait until things are terrible.
Sometimes a few sessions during a difficult season can help a child develop tools before a struggle becomes much bigger.
Hope for the next chapter
At Lunghi Counseling Group, we believe therapy should feel warm, practical, supportive, and genuinely useful.
We work with children, teens, adults, and families during family changes, school changes, friendship struggles, anxiety, divorce or separation, relocation, adoption-related concerns, and other seasons when life simply feels harder than usual.
The goal is not to remove every uncomfortable feeling.
That would not be realistic—and children do not need us to remove every obstacle from their path.
The goal is to help them understand themselves, develop practical tools, strengthen their relationships, and learn:
I can handle this.
I can ask for help.
I can solve problems.
I can try again.
A hard season does not predict a hard life.
With connection, practical tools, and the right support, children can move forward with greater clarity, confidence, and resilience.
There is hope for the next chapter.