I’m a Reformed Helicopter Parent–Here's What Changed for Me

I have been a helicopter mom since the day my first child was born. Part of it was the colic she was born with, which put me constantly on edge and searching for solutions and interventions that would stop the screaming and its inscrutable cause. And part of it was just the fact that I am a naturally anxious person and a control freak. 

Then, my second child was born 27 months later and I realized that helicopter parenting for two was exponentially more difficult. My instincts towards this parenting style were causing me extreme stress and it was becoming rapidly apparent that I couldn’t sustain it…and that most other people around me were much more laissez-faire. I also realized that I was teaching my kids how to live in a constant state of fear. (I openly named one climbing structure at our local playground ‘the death trap.’)

It’s taken me many years to shed this neurotic parenting style, but I can proudly say that I’m a (mostly) reformed helicopter parent now. Granted, making that change became a lot easier as they got older and less accident-prone, but I have to take some credit for learning, over time, how to appropriately identify situations in which my assistance was needed, as opposed to those that were safe enough to just let my kids learn from mistakes and gain some independence in the process. In doing so, I learned that my kids will come to me if they actually need me. (Psst: it’s called lighthouse parenting.)

So how did I make this change, you ask? Well it wasn’t easy and my progress happened in fits and starts. I started by talking to my therapist about anxiety and how it makes me focus on disastrous, albeit unlikely, outcomes. He told me to start doing reality checks. So everytime I wanted to intervene and say something like “you’re going to break your neck!” I would do a reality check and first ask myself, “what is the real probability that something bad will happen in this pretty benign situation?” 

To slow myself down, I also started pulling my kids aside and asking them “do you think this is safe?” I had them think about it and, if they said yes, I took a deep breath and decided to trust them. Sometimes, I would also turn to the nearest parent for reassurance and ask, “do you think they’re OK?” The confidence of other parents also works as a reality check in these moments. (I still do this regularly when my kids come near that death trap climbing structure!) There were and still are instances when my knee-jerk helicopter instincts were too hard to suppress, but I have gradually improved and every time I successfully triumph over my anxiety, it gets easier.

“I think most parents actually start out as helicopters, simply because the responsibility of becoming a parent for the very first time is truly intimidating. You’re handed a fragile bundle of joy, and it’s sink or swim from there.”

Now, my ten-year-old daughter takes toast out of the toaster without me jumping up to help, uses knives to help with meal prep, walks home from school alone with her eight-year-old brother. When my younger one wants to pour himself a glass of water from a pitcher that’s way too heavy for him to manage, I let him try; if he spills, I tell him to get a step stool so he can reach the paper towels and clean up the mess. And I have to say that this new, more laid-back approach is truly liberating. 

The energy I conserve by not rushing in to help with every little thing has made it easier for me to actually enjoy the time I spend with my kids. I used to dread going to the playground because I saw danger everywhere. Now, I find a parent and strike up a conversation to help distract me from that tendency to catastrophize and intervene when I’m not needed. Power struggles with my kids have been reduced, too—namely because I’m less controlling and alarmist, so when I say that something isn’t safe, they’re actually inclined to listen. I will confess that even as I have changed, my legacy of helicopter parenting lives on to a certain degree. (I.e., now my youngest has a helicopter older sibling.)

The takeaway? Helicopter parents are much-maligned, because we look a little ridiculous to those who have already figured out how to play it cool. However, I think most parents actually start out as helicopters, simply because the responsibility of becoming a parent for the very first time is truly intimidating. You’re handed a fragile bundle of joy, and it’s sink or swim from there. 

Some of us gain confidence in our judgment and our children’s abilities sooner than others; the helicopters are extra cautious—and there’s nothing wrong with that, except as children age that anxiety starts to become contagious. I recommend making a concerted effort to  try to let go sooner rather than later because, when you do, you’ll find parenthood to be far more rewarding and your children will be all the better for it. Plus, I’ve still managed to keep my kids alive since making the shift, so it might not be as scary as it seems.