We made a decision early on not to give our kids phones or smart watches when most of their friends got them. By ages 10 or 11, nearly everyone else had group chats, direct access to friends, and constant digital connection. Our kids did not.
That choice came with a cost, especially for me.
When I would reach out to other parents about plans, the response was often, “Have him text so-and-so.” Except he couldn’t. And then I would see photos of groups of kids hanging out, sometimes including his friends, and he wasn’t there. I began to wonder what it meant.
Was he being left out?
Did kids not like him?
Was there something about him that made him hard to be around?
I even asked close friends if he was difficult to have over. I became increasingly insecure, not about myself, but about him.
The strange part was that every time I asked my son if he felt like he had a good friend group, or if he was happy with his life, he always said yes. He wasn’t worried. I was.
I had drawn a picture in my head of who I thought he was supposed to be: the social kid, the big group of friends, always somewhere on the weekend. He was very outgoing when he was younger, so I assumed that version of him should continue as he grew.
But I wasn’t seeing him. I was seeing my expectations.
When I finally stopped projecting my own fears and started paying attention to who he actually was, everything changed.
I learned that he doesn’t like big groups. He prefers one-on-one friendships and deeper connections. I learned that he cares about making good choices, and that being in large groups made that harder for him. I learned that he genuinely enjoys being with his family. He wanted to be at his siblings’ sporting events. He wanted to come to family outings. He wasn’t staying home because he had nothing better to do. He was staying because he chose to.
And that one hit me hard.
We had worked really intentionally as a family to protect family time. We forced family outings. We said no to practices. We made sure we had several nights a week with nothing scheduled. We took family weekends. We built something meaningful together.
It was all paying off.
But I was so stuck in my own anxiety that I almost missed it.
The truth is, he is well-liked at school. He has many friends. He does hang out with peers. He just does it in a way that fits who he is, not who I assumed he should be.
The second thing I learned is that holding off on technology was absolutely worth it.
Because he didn’t have a phone, he wasn’t constantly seeing pictures of other kids hanging out and wondering if he was missing something. He wasn’t measuring his life against someone else’s highlight reel. He was present. He was enjoying what was right in front of him.
Now that he does have a phone, he uses it differently. He texts to make plans. He prefers to be with friends in person instead of living through a screen. He isn’t addicted to it. He’s confident. He knows who he is.
And that is everything I ever hoped for him.
I share this because I wish someone had told me sooner:
Your child does not have to look like everyone else to be thriving.
Sometimes our biggest parenting mistake isn’t what we do wrong, it’s when we don’t trust the good things we’re already doing.
See your child for who they are, not who you’re afraid they might not be.
And trust that the seeds you’re planting really are growing, even when you can’t see it yet.