When my little one started showing signs of separation anxiety, it felt like a storm brewing on the horizon—something I knew was coming but wasn’t fully prepared for. I remember the first time I had to leave her at nursery. Her tiny hands clung to me as if I was her lifeline, and her tears flowed freely as I walked away, making my heart ache in ways I hadn’t expected. At 3 years old today, she is still the same but in different circumstances. Two Sundays ago, I stood right by the Sunday school classroom, battling my own tears, wondering if ignoring her cries was the right thing to do.
Understanding the Roots of Separation Anxiety
I learned that separation anxiety is a completely normal part of development. It typically starts around six months of age and can extend into early childhood. The realization that her fear was rooted in the love and attachment we’d built brought some comfort, but it didn’t make those tearful goodbyes any easier.
At first, it was hard for me to understand why my child would feel so anxious about being apart from me. After all, she had spent time with her grandparents overnight without much fuss. But the more I read and talked to other parents, the more I understood that separation anxiety isn’t just about being away from me; it’s about the fear that I might not return.
My Approach to Easing the Anxiety
One of the best pieces of advice I received was to create a consistent goodbye routine. So, we developed our own little ritual before she leaves for nursery: a big hug, a kiss on cheek, and a promise that I would be back soon. It was a small thing, but it gave my daughter something to hold onto—a sense of security that our goodbye was just a temporary pause, not an ending.
I also started practicing short separations. At first, I would leave the room for a few minutes, then gradually increase independent play time. These small moments helped her build confidence that I would always come back. It wasn’t an overnight solution, but slowly, the meltdowns became less intense.
Staying calm myself was crucial. I noticed that when I was anxious about leaving her, she would pick up on those feelings and become even more upset. So, I learned to take a deep breath, put on a brave face, and offer reassurance, even if I felt like crying myself. I wanted her to see that being apart was okay and that she was safe.
I also gave her a small comfort object by chance —- a tiny pink dinosaur plush she adored. We named it Pinkisaurus. Whenever I had to leave, I would tell her that the Pinkisaurus would be there to keep her company until I return. She had it with her in the last Sunday school class. It worked like a charm. That plush became her little anchor, something familiar and comforting in my absence.
When It’s More Than Just Anxiety
Despite all my efforts, there were days when the anxiety felt overwhelming—for both of us. Those were the days when I questioned if I should seek professional help. While separation anxiety is normal, I knew I needed to be vigilant about recognizing when it was more than just a phase. Thankfully, with time, consistency, and a lot of patience, things improved.
A Bittersweet Transition
Looking back, I realize that this phase, as difficult as it was, was a sign of how much my daughter loved and trusted me. Her anxiety stemmed from her deep connection to me, and while that made those tearful goodbyes harder, it also made our reunions so much sweeter.
Now, before she leaves for nursery, instead of tears, there’s a confident smile. She waves goodbye while holding daddy’s hand, knowing that I’ll be there to pick her up from nursery later. I feel a sense of pride in both of us—we’ve weathered the storm of separation anxiety together, and come out stronger on the other side.
