No one really prepares you for the moment your child starts to pull away. The once chatty, cuddly little human who used to tell you everything suddenly disappears behind a closed door, a hoodie, or a screen.
And just like that, you realise: our relationship is changing.
But here’s the truth I’ve come to understand — it’s not breaking.
It’s evolving.
Teenagers are in a state of emotional, neurological, and social transformation. Their brains are rewiring. Their identities are forming. Their need for independence is real.
This often shows up as:
Moody silences
Eye rolls and shrugged shoulders
Sudden need for privacy
Pulling away from family rituals
Questioning everything (including us)
It’s easy to take it personally. But what they’re really doing is becoming themselves.
And our role? To shift, not disappear.
“Boys are easier.”
“Girls are more emotional.”
“Boys don’t talk about their feelings.”
“Girls are dramatic.”
Sound familiar?
Whether whispered at the school gate or passed down from generation to generation, these beliefs still sneak into how we view children — especially when it comes to feelings and emotions. But here's the truth:
❗️Children aren’t “easier” or “harder” based on gender.
They’re individuals — each with a full, beautiful, messy inner world that deserves to be seen, supported, and understood.
So let’s talk about it.
These stereotypes didn’t appear out of nowhere. For years, society has shaped the emotional expectations we place on children:
Boys are often encouraged to “toughen up,” be strong, be brave.
Girls are often told they’re “too sensitive,” “too dramatic,” or praised for being emotionally aware.
Over time, these messages influ...
You’ve probably heard the phrase: “Name it to tame it.”
It’s simple, memorable — and it’s backed by neuroscience.
But what does it really mean? And how does it help children (and adults) manage their big emotions with confidence?
Let’s dive into the science behind emotional literacy, and why naming our feelings is one of the most powerful tools we can give our kids.
Coined by Dr. Dan Siegel, a leader in interpersonal neurobiology, “Name it to tame it” is the idea that when we put words to what we feel, we reduce the intensity of that emotion.
In other words:
When we name the feeling, we calm the nervous system.
This simple act of emotional labelling activates the prefrontal cortex (our rational, reasoning brain) and helps regulate the amygdala (our fight/flight/freeze centre). It creates space between feeling and reacting — and in that space, we find choice, calm, and connecti...
A is for apple.
B is for ball.
C is for… crying on the floor because someone took your toy and you don’t have the words to explain how you feel.
We teach kids their ABCs before they can walk straight. We drill letters, numbers, colours, and shapes. And yes — literacy matters.
But what if we told you that emotional literacy might matter even more?
At My Wellbeing School, we believe in a simple but radical idea:
Feelings come first.
Before reading.
Before writing.
Before anything else — we need to learn how to be with ourselves.
Emotional literacy is the ability to:
Recognise what you’re feeling
Name the emotion
Understand where it’s coming from
Express it in healthy ways
Empathise with others’ feelings, too
It’s the foundation of emotional regulation, resilience, and connection — all essential for lifelong wellbeing.
The other day, my toddler turned to me in the sea — eyes soft, body still — and said:
“Mummy, this is my calm face.”
He was meditating.
In his own toddler way. In the ocean. With intention.
And I nearly burst into tears.
Because in that quiet, sun-drenched moment, I realised something powerful:
They’re taking it in.
All of it.
The breathing. The words. The tone. The energy. The stillness. The way we model how to move through the world.
Even when we feel like it’s not landing — it is. In ways we might not see until suddenly, one day… we do.
Children are sensory sponges. Long before they can explain what they’re feeling, they’re soaking in how we respond to emotions, how we breathe through chaos, how we hold space for big feelings.
They’re watching:
How we regulate ourselves when frustrated
How we say “I need a moment” or “Let’s take a breath”
How we describe emotions
...Nestled among the rocks and trees, my children, Noah (13) and his little brother Rhion (3), sit perched on a natural ledge, barefoot and immersed in their surroundings. The sunlight filters through the dense canopy above, casting playful shadows on the rugged terrain below. This moment—of climbing, exploring, and experiencing the raw beauty of nature—reflects the very essence of learning through risk.
The idea of “risky play” is gaining momentum worldwide, as educators, parents, and policymakers recognize the importance of allowing children to engage in unstructured, adventurous play. The Woeste Westen play forest in Amsterdam exemplifies this movement, providing children the space to explore boundaries through climbing, wrestling, playing with fire, and even using tools like hammers and knives under supervision.
In an era where digital screens dominate childhood, outdoor play is becoming an endangered experience. Mascha van Werven, a charity director, highlights a growing concern: “...
There’s something sacred about bedtime. The soft light, the slowing breath, the quiet stillness between one day and the next.
And then…
“Can we read a book?”
It might seem like a small request. But reading together at bedtime isn’t just a habit — it’s a ritual of connection, comfort, and emotional growth.
At My Wellbeing School, we believe stories have the power to soothe, strengthen, and connect — especially during that tender, winding-down part of the day.
Whether it’s a picture book, a feelings journal, or the same story for the 47th time, the act of reading together at night has enormous emotional and neurological benefits.
Bedtime stories help:
Regulate the nervous system
Signal safety and routine
Build emotional bonds between parent and child
Develop emotional language and empathy
Create space for calm conversations about the day
It’s no...
We want our children to grow up confident.
Curious.
Resilient.
Willing to try, fail, and try again.
But so often — especially when emotions are high — we rush in to protect, prevent, or perfect.
The truth is, learning involves risk.
And growing involves getting it wrong.
At My Wellbeing School, we believe in raising brave learners — children who feel safe enough to take emotional, social, and physical risks, and supported enough to bounce back when they stumble.
Healthy risk-taking is a vital part of development. Whether it’s climbing the big slide, trying a new food, asking a question in class, or admitting “I don’t know” — every risk is an act of courage.
When children take risks, they learn to:
Test their limits and build confidence
Problem-solve and adapt
Develop resilience after failure
Handle uncertainty and fear in healthy ways
T...
The Joy and Power of Thinking Before Getting the Answer
“I’m bored.”
Two words that can make even the most patient parent or educator sigh.
But what if boredom wasn’t something to fix…
What if it was something to honour?
At My Wellbeing School, we believe that boredom is not the enemy of learning — it’s the gateway to wonder. And wonder is where creativity, curiosity, and emotional depth begin to bloom.
In a world of instant answers, flashing screens, and constant stimulation, our kids rarely have the chance to just… be.
When children are bored, their minds begin to:
Drift
Imagine
Reflect
Create
Ask their own questions
Boredom makes space for original thought.
And in that space, children remember how to wonder — to sit with a question instead of rushing toward an answer.
When we give kids the answer too quickly, we deny them the joy of ...
Every now and then, a picture book comes along that lingers.
Not just in the mind — but in the heart.
For me, that book is Ergo by Alexis Deacon, illustrated by Viviane Schwarz.
It’s one of those quiet masterpieces that invites children (and adults) to stop, think, wonder… and maybe even see the world — and themselves — a little differently.
Ergo is a small chick inside a shell.
Her world is the shell.
She names her body, names the shell, and names the world — all from inside her tiny, contained space.
And then… she starts to wonder.
What’s outside this shell?
Am I all there is?
What else might be real?
What follows is a gentle, beautifully illustrated exploration of existence, thought, identity, and curiosity.
Yes, really. In a picture book. And it works brilliantly.
This book manages to:
Introduce big philosophical ideas in a child-friendly way
Spark cur...
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