The Social Moment Every Parent Dreads...

This video I made on social media has gone viral, and I wanted to add some more responses to the questions I received. But to begin, remember this: 

When your child says, “No one sat with me at lunch,” something shifts inside you.

You might notice it physically, a tightening in your chest, a rush of protectiveness, maybe even a sudden memory from your own childhood. Your mind can move quickly: How could they not see how great my kid is? Is something wrong? Do I need to fix this?

That reaction makes sense.

For many of us, being left out was not a small experience. It felt personal and, honestly, defining, even when it wasn't. Hearing that your child experienced that same kind of sting can feel almost unbearable, especially if it brings up parts of your own story that still carry weight.

The experience quickly becomes less about who sat where and more about whether your child feels safe bringing that pain to you. Do they feel heard, or hurried past it? Do they feel steadied, or swept up in your urgency to solve it?

Once children reach school age, peers begin to matter in a new way. Belonging carries real emotional weight, and with that comes the possibility of exclusion. That does not mean something is wrong with your child. It means they are learning how relationships work, and learning relationships is rarely smooth.

Your role is not to eliminate every uncomfortable social experience. It is to be the steady place they return to.

Before you respond, it helps to pause and notice your own feelings, the anger, the protectiveness, the sadness, the impulse to call the teacher or text another parent. Creating even a brief pause allows you to respond with intention instead of reflex. That pause shows your child that hard social moments can be talked through, not carried alone.

Why Being Left Out Hurts So Much

By kindergarten and early elementary school, children’s social world starts to expand quickly. Friendships aren’t always just about who happens to be nearby. Kids begin paying attention to who chooses whom, who gets invited, who sits where, and who seems to belong.

Around age five and up, peer acceptance starts shaping how children see themselves. They are learning to read social cues, understand group dynamics, and figure out where they fit. That learning naturally includes moments that do not go smoothly, even in healthy environments.

When a child says, “Nobody likes me,” they are not making a lifelong judgment about their worth. They are trying to explain one painful moment with limited perspective. Young brains are still developing emotional distance, so one hard interaction can feel enormous and permanent.

These moments are uncomfortable, but they are also where resilience and empathy begin to form. Children start learning that friendships shift. Not every group will be the right fit.

This is where being a secure base really matters. When your child experiences rejection and then comes to you, and you listen, validate, and think it through together, their brain starts linking discomfort with support instead of shame. They begin to learn that feeling left out hurts, but it doesn’t mean something is wrong with them. They learn that hard feelings can soften.

What To Say In The Moment

Many of you asked for something very specific: What do I actually say when this happens? In the moment, it can be hard to think clearly. Having a simple starting point can help you feel more prepared. You do not have to use these word for word. It’s best to adapt them so they sound like you, but you can think of them as anchors when emotions are running high.

Connection works best when it starts with curiosity.

If your child says, “No one sat with me,” try:

• “Tell me what happened.”

• “What was that like for you?”

Beginning this way gives your child space to feel heard instead of corrected. It also gives you important information. Listening first helps you respond to the child in front of you rather than reacting to your own fears.

If they say, “Nobody likes me,” ground the feeling without arguing. Instead of immediately saying, “That’s not true,” which can feel dismissive, try:

• “It sounds like today felt really lonely.”

• “That must have hurt.”

Once they feel understood, they are often more open to perspective:

• “One hard day doesn’t decide who likes you.”

• “Let’s think about what happened.”

If they seem regulated, calm acknowledgment is enough:

• “Thanks for telling me.”

• “Do you want to think about what you might try tomorrow?”

Then you can slowly shift into helping them think it through instead of stepping in to rescue or immediately solve it for them.

You might ask:

• “Is there someone you feel comfortable sitting with tomorrow?”

• “Did you notice anyone else who looked like they needed a friend?”

These questions help your child move from feeling rejected to thinking proactively. It can help build social confidence over time because it reinforces that they have control in how they respond.

It can also help to reflect on what makes a good friend:

• “Who makes you feel calm?”

• “Who seems kind?”

• “Who do you feel good around?”

This reframes the goal. The goal is not to be liked by everyone, it’s to learn how to recognize warmth and choose connection wisely.

Q and A From The Community

For some children, being left out does not just sting. It can feel overwhelming.

You might notice reactions that feel much bigger than the situation itself. Tears may come quickly. Anger can rise fast. You may hear statements like “Nobody ever likes me” or “I’m never going back to school.” Some children carry the stress in their bodies, with stomachaches, headaches, or trouble falling asleep that night.

For children with ADHD, anxiety, sensory sensitivities, or autism, these reactions can be amplified. A mild social shift that another child might shrug off can feel deeply personal. Children with ADHD may react strongly to perceived criticism or exclusion and struggle to step back from the emotion in the moment. Children with anxiety may move quickly to worst case conclusions. Children with sensory differences can become emotionally overloaded more easily. Autistic children may have difficulty interpreting unclear social situations and may fill in the gaps in ways that turn inward.

In those moments, their nervous system may be reacting as though something threatening has happened. When a child is emotionally flooded, perspective and logic are much harder to access.

What helps most is first helping their body settle. Sit near them. Lower your voice. Acknowledge the size of the feeling without reinforcing the story.

Sometimes, in our effort to comfort, we accidentally move into overvalidation. That can sound like agreeing with global statements such as “You’re right, nobody is being nice to you,” or staying in the emotion without helping the child move forward. While the intention is empathy, this can reinforce the idea that the moment defines their social world.

Validation is meant to name the feeling, not confirm the belief.

If a child says, “Nobody likes me,” validation sounds like:
“That felt really lonely.”

Overvalidation sounds like:
“You’re right, nobody included you.”

That difference matters. One helps the nervous system settle. The other can strengthen negative conclusions about themselves or their peers.

Instead, think in three steps:
First, regulate the body with calm presence.
Second, validate the feeling without reinforcing the narrative.
Third, gently widen perspective once they are ready.

For example:
“That really hurt.”
“I’m glad you told me.”
“One hard day doesn’t decide who likes you.”
“Let’s think about tomorrow.”

When you meet big emotion with steadiness instead of correction or overidentifying, you create the conditions where resilience can grow.

Many of you also asked what this looks like at different ages, because being left out at four does not feel the same as being left out at ten. Here’s how it often shows up:

Preschool (around ages 3–5)

At this stage, exclusion is usually impulsive rather than intentional. Young children are still learning how to share attention, take turns, and include others. A child might say, “You can’t come to my party,” and then invite that same friend to play five minutes later.

When preschoolers feel left out, it often passes quickly, but they still need support in naming what happened and practicing social entry skills. You might help by role-playing simple phrases like, “Can I play?” or “What are you building?”

At this age, repetition and practice matter more than deep processing.

Early Elementary (around ages 6–8)

This is when group dynamics begin to solidify. Children are more aware of who gets chosen first, who is invited, and who sits with whom. Belonging begins to feel more personal.

When children in this age group feel excluded, they may start making broader conclusions, such as “I don’t have any friends.” They are still developing perspective, so one interaction can color their entire view of the day.

Here, your role often includes helping them zoom out. You can reflect what happened, help them consider alternative explanations, and guide them toward specific, doable next steps.

Older Elementary (around ages 9–11)

By this stage, social hierarchies can feel more defined. Children are more aware of social status and group identity. Children may compare themselves more and become more sensitive to perceived shifts in friendship.

With older elementary children, conversations can go deeper. You can talk about what healthy friendships look like, how relationships change over time, and how to recognize when a group may not be the right fit.

Across all ages, the foundation stays the same. Start by listening carefully and showing your child that you take their experience seriously. Reflect back what you hear so they know you understand, and resist the urge to immediately correct, help, or solve.

What shifts with age is how much support they need to move through the moment. Younger children often need more hands-on guidance, such as practicing what to say or role-playing how to join a game. As children grow, your role becomes less about doing it with them and more about asking thoughtful questions that help them think it through themselves.

Once the initial sting has settled, many parents ask the next question: How do I actually help my child build stronger friendships?

It can feel vulnerable to step back instead of stepping in. But social confidence grows through small experiences of trying, adjusting, and trying again. Here are a few ways to support that process:

Practice simple entry phrases at home. Younger children especially benefit from rehearsing what to say. Phrases like “Can I play?” or “What are you building?” may seem obvious to adults, but practicing them ahead of time can make social entry feel less intimidating.

Help them think about what makes a good friend. The goal is not being liked by everyone. It is learning how to recognize warmth and kindness. You might gently ask, “Who helps you feel calm or happy?” or  “Who do you feel good around?” These kinds of questions shift the focus from trying to get picked to learning how to choose wisely, which becomes even more important as children enter school age and group dynamics grow more complex.

Widen their world gently. If school friendships feel shaky, consider expanding opportunities outside that setting. Inviting one classmate over, connecting with a neighbor, or participating in an activity can remind them that belonging is not limited to one lunch table. Remind them that social settings are not in one place and incorporate connection through other friend circles–maybe through the neighborhood, friend group outside of school, out of school activities, places of worship, etc.

Focus on depth rather than numbers. Children do not need to be liked by everyone. Most thrive with one or two consistent friendships. Helping them invest in steady connections often matters more than helping them gain broad approval.

Let them see that friendships shift over time. When it feels appropriate, you can share small, age-appropriate stories from your own life. You might say, “I remember having a friend in elementary school who I sat with every day, and then one year our classes changed and we drifted a little. That felt strange at first.” Or, “There was a time I felt left out too, and I eventually found people who felt like a better fit.” These conversations normalize the idea that friendships evolve.

It can also help to remember that not every hard social moment needs you to step in. Some situations work themselves out with time, especially when children are given space to try again the next day. If we jump in too quickly, even with good intentions, it can send the quiet message that they cannot handle uncomfortable feelings on their own. Offering support while giving them room to figure things out helps them grow more confident in their ability to navigate friendships over time.

At the core of it, most of us want the same thing for our children: connection. We want them to feel included, chosen, and comfortable in their own skin. We want them to walk into a room and know there is a place for them there. So when they come home and tell us they were left out, it can land deeply. It makes sense that it would. You are allowed to feel protective and even sad when your child is hurting.

This happens more often than parents expect. Sometimes the intensity of our reaction is not only about what happened that day. It may be tapping into something older from your own history. You might remember sitting alone at lunch or feeling uncertain about where you fit. Those memories can resurface quickly, and the instinct to protect your child from ever feeling that way again can feel immediate and powerful.

The goal is not to eliminate those feelings. It is to notice them without letting them lead.

A simple internal check can help: “Am I reacting to my child’s experience right now, or my own past?”

That small pause often creates enough space to respond thoughtfully instead of urgently.

If you notice yourself getting pulled into your own memories or worries, try anchoring yourself to the present moment with one quick reset. Put your feet flat on the floor, take one slow breath in and out, and look directly at your child. Then silently remind yourself, “This is their moment, not my past.” You do not need to solve anything right away. Your calm presence is already helping their nervous system settle. Even a few seconds of grounding can keep the conversation from spiraling and help you respond with intention instead of emotion.

Children are remarkably attuned to our emotional cues. If we move into anger, panic, or defensiveness, they may interpret the situation as more threatening than it actually is. When they see us take a breath and stay grounded, they learn that disappointment can be handled safely.

Your child does not need you to erase every painful experience. They need you to be the steady place they can return to while they learn how to move through those experiences themselves. That steadiness grows from awareness and practice, not from getting it right every time.

Most experiences of being left out fall within the normal ups and downs of social development. They can hurt in the moment, but they often shift with time as children try again the next day, groups rearrange, and friendships stretch and re-form in ways that may look significant on Tuesday and completely different by Friday.

Occasionally, however, a pattern begins to emerge. It may make sense to step in if:

• Exclusion is consistent with the same group

• Your child shows ongoing mood changes or reluctance to go to school

• There is repeated teasing or behavior that feels intentional rather than impulsive

In those situations, gathering more information can help. Reaching out to a teacher does not have to mean escalating the situation. It can simply be a way to better understand the full picture. You might say, “My child mentioned feeling left out at lunch, and I wanted to check in to see what you’ve noticed.” Approaching the conversation with curiosity rather than accusation tends to open the door to more useful collaboration.

It’s also helpful to remember that teachers often see social dynamics differently than children describe them. A child may interpret a seating change as rejection, while a teacher may be rotating tables intentionally. Getting that context allows you to respond to your child with greater clarity and calm.

Even when you involve the school, the message at home remains steady. You are not stepping in because your child is incapable. You are stepping in because repeated hurt deserves attention, and relationships matter. There is a meaningful difference between allowing children to build resilience through ordinary social bumps and ignoring patterns that may require support. When something feels persistent or heavier than typical peer shifts, it is reasonable to look more closely.

Many of you also asked about the difference between everyday social conflict and bullying. I’ll be doing a video next month breaking down what actually constitutes bullying, how to recognize it, and how parents can respond when situations cross that line.

The Big Reframe

Being left out hurts. It can sting at four, at ten, and even stir something in us as adults when we hear our child describe it, and there is no need to pretend otherwise or make it smaller than it feels in the moment.

At the same time, it remains part of growing up. As much as we wish we could protect our children from every moment of exclusion, learning how to move through shifting friendships is woven into social development. Groups change, dynamics evolve, and not every connection lasts in the same way it once did, which can feel unsettling but does not signal that something has gone wrong.

Over time, these experiences become part of how children develop important internal skills. They begin to understand their boundaries and notice when something does not feel right. They learn discernment as they pay attention to who feels steady and kind and who does not. They build resilience by moving through disappointment and discovering that they can recover. They deepen their empathy as they come to understand what exclusion feels like and how they want to show up for others in response.

What ultimately lasts is not whether they always had someone at their lunch table. What lasts is whether they felt safe coming to you when something hurt, whether they learned that difficult social moments can be handled without collapsing into shame, and whether they understood that even when something feels lonely, they do not have to face it alone.

You cannot control every social outcome in your child’s world. What you can offer is steadiness, perspective, and a place to land, and over time that becomes part of their inner voice.

On The Podcast

If mealtimes feel heavier than they should, this episode is going to make a lot click. I sit down with dietitians Diana and Dani to unpack how diet culture quietly slips into everyday parenting and shapes how kids see food, their bodies, and themselves. Their new book offers a roadmap for raising kids who trust their bodies and feel safe at the table, and our conversation goes far beyond picky eating. We talk about the language we use, the pressure we don’t realize we’re applying, and how small daily moments build a child’s long-term relationship with food.

Sleep training is one of the most emotionally charged parenting topics online, and this conversation pulls it back to what actually matters, evidence. We talk about how social media amplifies fear and confusion, why parents are told to “trust” personalities instead of data, and how looking directly at research helps cut through the noise. While opinions are loud, the body of evidence around behavioral sleep interventions is far less controversial than the internet suggests.

On YouTube

In this video, I break down why kids struggle to listen through a developmental lens and explain what’s actually happening in their brains during those moments. I share practical, real-life language shifts that help your words land without escalating, repeating, or turning into power struggles. My goal is to give you tools that make communication feel calmer, clearer, and more connected for both you and your child.

Ask Dr. Mona

An opportunity for YOU to ask Dr. Mona your parenting questions!

Dr. Mona will answer these questions in a future Sunday Morning Q&A email. Chances are if you have a parenting concern or question, another parent can relate. So let's figure this out together!