When your kids are suffering

October 18, 2026

No matter how old my kids get, I think it gets harder, not easier, to watch them struggle.

When they were learning to walk, I knew they were going to fall.

They would wobble, fall down, cry, and get back up.

And somehow I could tolerate it because I trusted the process. I knew eventually they would learn to stand on their own two feet.

But as they’ve gotten older, the stakes have gotten higher and the outcomes far less certain.

And if you’re a woman navigating motherhood, I know you know this feeling all too well.

The scraped knee becomes heartbreak. Failure. Money problems. Addiction. A marriage falling apart. An illness. A life choice you desperately wish you could make for them.

What if the real game in motherhood is to notice what happens in you when your kids are struggling.

Maybe you feel afraid.

Maybe you feel helpless.

Maybe you have the urge to do something.

Fix it. Say something. Help. Make the pain go away.

But what if this part of motherhood is asking something different of you?

What if it’s asking you to expand your capacity to be with what you can’t control?

To hold your discomfort and theirs at the same time.

To stay present when you don’t know the outcome.

To get comfortable with not knowing.

And from that place, ask:

What is actually mine to do here?

Sometimes it’s to step in. Sometimes it’s to help. Sometimes it’s to listen or set a boundary.

And sometimes there’s nothing to do but stay and be.

Only presence knows.

Every time you stay with discomfort without immediately trying to make it disappear, you’re developing something in yourself.

More capacity.

More resilience.

More strength.

And your family experiences that.

By being grounded, you become a grounding presence for the people around you.

When your kids can’t see their way through, let them borrow your faith.

Your faith that they are strong enough.

Your faith that they can handle hard things.

Your faith that even when you can’t see the outcome, you can trust the journey.

You don’t have to rescue them from the struggle.

You can let them borrow your faith while they find their own.

And while they do, keep building yours.

Your faith in yourself.

Your faith in your capacity to hold what you can’t control.

Your faith that you can stay grounded even when the people you love are struggling.

Your faith that whatever life brings, you will meet it.

That’s part of the gift of motherhood.

As you hold space for the people you love, you become a woman who trusts herself more deeply too.

in trust and gratitude,

Annmarie Chereso
Author, Speaker, Coach, & Meditation Teacher