We were all at the park, my granddaughter, my friend, her niece, and myself when we hear the familiar sounds of the ice cream truck. I followed as the kids jogged over in regular kid excitement to the truck while my friend went to look for some money. When she came back to discover the truck did not take cards, I went to check my car, and she went back to check hers. We could see the girls and they could see us. My granddaughter called to me, and I said, “I’m just getting some cash” as I walked towards my car. When I got back to her, she was tearful. I could see she felt nervous so I put my arm around her and told her that she is safe while also thinking, why would she get nervous I told her I was getting cash for the ice cream, and we could totally see each other?

On the way home she says, “Ya know Grandma, I just got scared because I thought you were going to the bank.”

In that moment, it all made sense. She did not know that I meant I was just going to the car to get cash—she thought I was leaving to go to the bank. No wonder she felt panicked. From her point of view, her fear was completely valid.

I’m so grateful I responded with comfort instead of correction. Because given what she believed, her emotional response wasn’t just understandable—it was right.

How often do we do the same thing to ourselves, correct the emotion without ever listening and comforting?

We feel overwhelmed, anxious, or hurt—and instead of comforting ourselves, we criticize the reaction: “Why am I overreacting?” or “That doesn’t even make sense.” But just like my granddaughter, our emotional responses are rooted in what we believe is happening, not always in the facts.

And often, those beliefs are shaped by our past experiences, fears, or unmet needs. If we took a moment to pause and understand where the feeling is coming from, we might find that it actually makes perfect sense.

That moment at the park reminded me how powerful it is to respond with comfort rather than correction. My granddaughter didn’t need logic in that moment—she needed safety and connection. And we are no different.

When you feel scared, sad, or anxious, consider this: what if you assumed your response was valid? This is not permission to act, this is the pause. The space where you notice and become curious. What just happened? What did it mean it me? Is it true? When have I felt this way before? What if you leaned in without judgement to explore what you believed in that moment, rather than trying to talk yourself out of the feeling?

Because whether your fear is based in current reality or past experiences or due to a faulty storyline, your body and heart are responding to something real—a memory, a story, a belief, or a longing.

And that part of you, just like a scared child at the park, doesn’t need scolding or dismissal. It needs a steady presence. A gentle word. A reminder: “You’re safe. I’m right here.”

So, the next time a big feeling rises up—whether it’s fear, sadness, shame, or anger—try ‘the pause’ and make room to ask yourself:

“What might I be believing right now that makes this feeling make sense?”

And then, instead of brushing it off or shutting it down, respond the way you would to a child you love:
With empathy. With patience. With kindness.

Because every part of you deserves to be heard and comforted—not just the calm, logical parts, but the scared and tender ones too.

You don’t have to justify your feelings to treat yourself gently.
You just have to trust that there’s a reason they showed up—and meet them with compassion.

Remember, when your body speaks, it’s telling the truth as it sees it in that moment. Listen with curiosity and compassion rather than correction. You are Worth it!