There’s this moment that happens all the time—especially in the summer. You show up somewhere new… a sports practice, the public pool, a camp, whatever it is… and your kid just kind of stands there. Not upset, not crying, just… unsure.  You stand there, pretending to be casual, but really you’re thinking, please just go talk to someone so I can know you'll be comfortable when I leave or so I can just read for a little while you play. 

If you have kids of the elementary age, you likely know exactly what I mean. They’re at that age where they want friends, but walking up to someone new still feels like a big deal. And honestly, I think sometimes we forget how hard that actually is.

You see those kids who jump right in, instantly laughing and playing like they’ve known each other forever, and you think… why isn’t mine doing that? But the more I’ve watched my own kids in those moments, the more I realize—it’s not that they don’t want to connect, they just need a minute. Some kids walk in loud and confident, and some hang back, take it all in, and figure things out first. That doesn’t mean anything is wrong. It just means they’re wired a little differently.

I’ll be honest—I didn’t always handle it well. I used to be that mom whispering (okay, sometimes not even whispering), “Just go say hi!” or “You’ll be fine, go join them!” And every time I said it, I could tell it didn’t actually help. So I’ve learned to back off a little and give them something more manageable. Instead of pushing them into a whole group, I’ll say something like, “just watch for a minute,” or “try playing by yourself with the toy and maybe someone else will want to join” Because the truth is, walking up to a group of kids, already playing feels like a lot—even for adults.

What has helped more than anything is keeping it simple. Not turning it into this big “go make friends” moment, but just helping them find an easy way in. That can be as basic as asking what someone is playing or if they can join. That’s it, no big speec, no pressure to instantly click. And then there’s the waitin, this might be the hardest part—for me, at least. Sometimes they don’t jump in right away, they will stay close, or say they don’t want to go, or just linger on the outside. In these moments, everything in you wants to fix it immediately, but I’ve started noticing something… if I give it a little time, it usually happens. It might not be in the first five minutes, but ten minutes later, they’re laughing, or running, suddenly part of the game. They just needed that space to get there on their own.

One of my favorite parts actually comes after—it’s the car ride home. That’s when they start to open up a little more. Instead of asking, “Did you make any friends?” (which somehow always gets a one-word answer), I try to keep it lighter. I’ll ask who they talked to, or if there was anyone they liked, or maybe knew from another activity or soon, and what the best part was. Usually, there’s something, maybe they didn’t make a best friend that day, but maybe they talked to one kid, or joined one game, or didn’t feel as nervous as they thought they would, and that counts. I think this is one of those things that just takes time.

They’re not always going to walk into a new place feeling confident. They’re not always going to connect right away. And honestly, neither do we. But every time they try—even a little—they’re learning how to do it. And that’s the part I keep reminding myself of. These are the skills that will take them into their future.

Because one day, they won’t hesitate as much. One day, it’ll feel easier. One day, they’ll be the kid who walks right in, but for now… they’re figuring it out and we’re just kind of right there beside them, pretending we’re not as nervous as they are.

If your kids are in that phase too, just know—you’re not the only one standing on the sidelines, quietly hoping it all clicks. It will.

Susan Soler, Contributor