Why “Just Take a Deep Breath” Might Not Be Helping (and What to Try Instead)
- melanie9554
- Jun 5, 2025
- 4 min read
Updated: Jul 19, 2025
Melanie Zwyghuizen | Gen 1 Parenting
Your child is overwhelmed—maybe they’re melting down over school, swim lessons, panicking about an upcoming trip, or having a full-on refusal to go to the awesome summer camp you've signed them up for.
You see the emotion rising and you do what many of us do and what a lot of parenting advice suggests:
"Just take a deep breath, sweetheart."

You say it softly, kindly, maybe even while breathing along with them. And sometimes it works. But sometimes? It absolutely doesn’t.
And if you’ve ever walked away from one of those moments thinking, “That was supposed to help... why didn’t it?” — you're not alone.
Let’s talk about it.
Breathing is helpful—but it’s not a magic fix.
We’ve all seen the social media graphics and classroom posters. Deep breathing has earned a spot as the go-to calming tool for kids—and for good reason. It can lower stress, regulate the nervous system, and help us reconnect to the present moment.
But breathing is one of many support tools, not a solve-it-all tool.
And when we rush to offer it before our child feels seen, it can actually add pressure instead of reducing it. It can feel to them like we’re saying, “Hey, this emotion is too much. Can we please move past it? Can you just calm down? Can you just take a breath and get this over with?”
Even if that’s not what we mean, it's how it can feel to your child. In all honesty if someone told me to "Just take a deep breath" in a moment when I was emotionally dysregulated and feeling some strong emotions, I know I wouldn't find it helpful and I certainly wouldn't feel seen and heard. Would you? My guess is no. Let's look at why.
Why it doesn’t always work
Especially for anxious or sensitive kids, the real need in those hard moments isn't just to calm down—it’s to feel safe. To feel understood. To feel like their internal world makes sense to someone else so they don't feel so all alone.
And often we only focus on school as being a stressor, but in the summer, the worries may just shift—but they don’t disappear.
What if no one talks to me at camp?
What if I can’t sleep at Grandma’s house?
What if the pool is too deep, the lake is too gross, the sunscreen stings my eyes, the bugs are everywhere? What if I just am too scared to try something new?
These are real worries for kids. Even when the pace of life slows, their emotional worlds stay busy.
Just the other day, my 5-year-old granddaughter was feeling this deeply. Everyone was jumping into the lake, laughing and having the best time, but she was frozen — too scared to jump, yet heartbroken to feel left out of the fun. With tears brimming in her eyes, she turned to me and said, “Grandma, I wish I wasn’t so afraid to try, but I am.”
My heart ached for her. Of course I wanted to take that fear away. Of course I wanted her to feel brave and included. But I knew this wasn’t a moment to fix — it was a moment to feel. She needed connection, not correction or trying to convince her to just jump. She needed someone to sit with her in it, to see her and remind her she wasn’t wrong for feeling what she felt.
So we did that together. We named it. We talked about it. And in the end, she decided she’d just be sad for a bit about not being able to join in — and that was okay. She still felt disappointed, but she also felt supported.
See, if I had rushed to say “Take a breath” or “It’s not that scary,” we might’ve skipped the deeper work. We might’ve missed the moment where she learned that her fear wasn’t a flaw and that being sad didn’t mean she was alone.
When we move too quickly to solve or soothe, even with good intentions, we can unintentionally send the message that big feelings are a problem to get rid of — not a human experience to move through.
Let’s not miss the chance to teach our kids the truth: All feelings are allowed, and none of them disqualify you from love or belonging.
Here’s the shift we need to remember:
Instead of using breathing to get out of the emotion, we can use connection to go through it—with them.
So how do we do that?
Before offering any calming tool—breathing, counting, grounding—start with presence.
Let them know their feelings make sense. That you’re not afraid of them. That you can handle this, and they can too.
Try something like:
“You’re feeling really nervous about camp, huh? That makes sense. It’s a new place and new people.”
“I know it felt yucky when your friend didn’t want to play today.”
“Let’s just sit together for a minute.”
And only after that, once the intensity has softened just a bit, try:
“Would a few deep breaths feel good right now? We could try one together.”
The difference is subtle—but powerful. You're not using breathing to escape the emotion. You're using it to support their processing of the emotion.
Your parenting toolbox is bigger than one strategy
Deep breathing is a great tool. But it’s just one. Like any tool, it works best when used at the right time and in the right context.
And what your child needs most isn’t a perfect technique.
They need you—grounded, gentle, and willing to slow things down and listen to connect.

Hey Parents,
I know how parenting through these emotions can trigger your own because I've been there too! I know it can make you feel overwhelmed and confused. You may even tell yourself "I can't do this. I don't know what to say. I don't know what they need." So next time your child is spiraling—about camp, cousins, car rides, or chlorine—try to take your own deep breath first. Then remember that what they really need is you and the Safety. Connection. And time. you can offer. You've got this. And if you feel like "No. I don't have this!" and need someone to be in it with you more than with a blog post? Let's get connected. Schedule your [Free 15 min. Consult] today. We'll discuss your current parenting challenges and we'll figure out which path forward is best for you.
—Melanie



