I vividly remember the first time I encountered a mouse gallivanting around our house as a child. At the first sight of the rodent, my mother screamed for her dear life and jumped onto a chair to escape its wrath as it scurried across our dining room floor. Naturally, I followed suit—and from that day forward, one of my greatest fears in life was coming face-to-face with a mouse.
My father, ever the voice of reason, would point out the silliness of being scared of a creature so small and harmless. But logic has little power over fear. As I ventured through life, my fear of mice lingered—and at times, it felt restrictive. I avoided movies with rats. I walked the streets of New York City on alert, mentally preparing myself for how I’d react if a city rat darted across my path.
Then, after having my first child, I began to reflect on which qualities I wanted to pass down—and which I didn’t. Fear of rodents, I decided, was not on the list. Since my fear had been influenced by my mother’s reaction that day, I made a conscious decision to break the cycle.
At first, it was small steps: watching movies that featured mice or rats, taking deep breaths when the anxiousness crept in. Over the years, through a mix of self-discovery, intentional exposure, and focusing on the endearing qualities of mice rather than the negative ones, I’ve made real progress. (I’m still not entirely at peace with city or farm rats—but let’s call that advanced level work.)
The best part? My kids have zero fear of mice. In fact, they think they’re adorable.
When the Tables Turned
So why am I sharing this story?
Because as I sit here on my patio, enjoying the peace of a sunny afternoon, my twelve-year-old suddenly lets out a bloodcurdling scream. She’s spotted a spider near the trampoline—and she’s convinced it has it out for her.
This is not an isolated incident. All of my children are terrified of spiders. Bugs in general, really. I recently managed to convince them that ladybugs are harmless—despite their supposedly terrifying appearance. (Yes, that’s sarcasm.)
And it hit me: despite all my efforts to prevent one kind of irrational fear, another one found its way in.
The Real Lesson About Fear
Here’s what I’ve learned: as parents, no matter how intentionally we try to shape our children’s fears, we’ll sometimes fall short. The lessons we mean to teach aren’t always the ones they actually learn.
I succeeded in raising kids who aren’t afraid of mice—but they’re absolutely horrified by spiders. Perhaps, though, the real lesson I’ve passed down isn’t about having no fear at all, but rather about how to face it.
Fear, after all, isn’t our enemy. It’s a built-in survival mechanism designed to keep us safe. Our bodies might freeze in terror, but ultimately, our perception determines whether the threat is real or imagined.
Encountering a grizzly bear on a hiking trail in the Rockies? Totally valid reason for paralyzing fear.
Spotting a mouse sprinting across the kitchen floor? Not so much.
Maybe that’s the best we can hope for as parents: not to raise children without fear, but to raise children who know how to meet fear with perspective—and eventually, courage.
