"It was 1998. My son, Sam (who has given me permission to share this story), was eight, and his dad and I were taking him to his first year at sleepaway camp. Sam had been so excited for months leading up to his departure. He'd visited the camp with his dad for a father-son weekend and loved it. He couldn't wait to go back."
"Then reality hit. At drop-off, Sam panicked. He was sobbing, begging us not to leave him there. I was sick to my stomach. Being the "emotional support parent" that I was (and still grapple with today), this was excruciating for me. As the rescuer in me roared to life, every bone in my body wanted to take him home. While I didn't, I cried the entire two-hour drive home."
"A few days later, a letter arrived. The page was wrinkled and began with: "I'm sorry for the tear-stained page." It was filled with pleas for us to come pick him up. My anxiety was overwhelming. I wanted to hop in the car and rescue him. Instead, I called the camp director, who reported that Sam was thriving. He was fully engaged in the activities and making friends."
An eight-year-old named Sam panicked at sleepaway camp drop-off and begged his parents to take him home. The mother experienced intense distress and temptation to rescue him, crying after the drive home. A tear-stained letter arrived with pleas to be picked up, but the camp director reported that Sam was thriving, engaged in activities, and making friends. The parents decided to let him stay, allowing him to work through homesickness. After several weeks Sam wrote about enjoying camp and ultimately did not want to leave. Letting children persist through difficult experiences promotes resilience, confidence, and growth; parental restraint can be an act of love.
Read at Psychology Today
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