Why I Stopped Forcing My Daughter Out Of Her Comfort Zone

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Today was story time at the library, and it had been ages since my daughter and I attended one. Between the chaos of life and the fact that our last attempt was a bit too much for my then 2-year-old, we had skipped it for a while.

Story time is a lively affair for preschoolers, filled with tales, songs, and plenty of movement. When the first book was unveiled, the other kids sprang to the center of the room, eager to be part of the action. They were buzzing with excitement, practically begging to be as close as possible to the pages of the book.

Once the singing began, they erupted again, tumbling over one another like bowling pins, all vying for their moment in the spotlight. As I observed, I realized that the other moms didn’t have to nudge their kids into that vibrant center stage—a notion I was all too familiar with when it came to my daughter.

No, those kids instinctively knew where they wanted to be. Meanwhile, my little one and I remained on the outskirts.

My daughter is more of an observer; she takes everything in, analyzes it, and feels that buzz from the fringes. She’s involved but prefers to find her spot along the edge of the action. Yet, there’s a constant pressure for her to step into the middle.

For a long time, I tried to gently push her beyond her comfort zone, hoping that one day she would leap into the fray of activity. On our last visit, I even found myself sarcastically thinking, “Yay! She cried a river, but look! She made it to the center (clinging to me like a koala, tears streaming).” How is that beneficial?

It’s not.

Today, I decided to let her stay on the periphery. In fact, we both did. For the entire 30 minutes, she nestled on my lap, held my hand, or I held her. But she was engaged.

At first, she was quiet during the story, but as the session progressed, I began to hear her soft whispers responding to the librarian’s questions. Gradually, those whispers grew louder and more enthusiastic. By the end of story time, she was joyfully singing along to “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” complete with hand motions. She had found her comfort zone, and it was right there in my lap.

Instead of forcing her to conform to my idea of comfort, I allowed her to dictate what felt right for her. Today, she didn’t grow out of her comfort zone; instead, her comfort zone expanded on her own terms.

My daughter doesn’t need pushing right now; she needs support. She needs me to affirm that her instincts are valid. I’m committed to being better at respecting her feelings. I believe that by doing so, she’ll blossom into the person she’s meant to be, rather than the version I think she should be.

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In summary, today was a turning point in my approach to parenting. By allowing my daughter to explore her comfort zone at her own pace, rather than trying to mold her into someone else’s idea of “normal,” I believe she will flourish in her own unique way.

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