Managing anxiety during life transitions can be challenging at any age. A psychologist reflects on lessons learned about facing uncertainty, navigating difficulties, and knowing when to ask for help.
Angel and Giovanni are almost a quarter of the way through their junior year. It feels like the new academic year began “a couple weeks ago” and now we are speeding our way to Halloween.
They returned home from the first day of school with anxiety that hadn’t been present when I dropped them off. I asked why and the response was simple.
“Junior year is supposed to be the hardest one.”
“And the other ones haven’t been easy” went unspoken.
I also suspected that their junior year might be “the hardest” because of what made my junior year of high school so challenging many years ago.
Heavy academic courseload.
Balancing academic demands with extracurricular activities.
Preparing for the college entrance exams.
Exploring college options and future career plans.
All while managing the social pressure of being a sixteen-year-old kid who is straddling the fence of childhood and adulthood.
So far, junior year has been challenging. Some of the reasons are similar to what I remember being issues during my junior year. Many are not.
They still don’t have a physics teacher assigned to their section.
They are worrying about big issues without easily identifiable solutions, like climate change, race-related issues, and social media.
They have immediate access to information—scary and good stuff alike—and struggle with how to manage responsibilities and technological temptations.
They are being asked to make decisions about college and their futures when they’re still figuring out who they are and what matters to them.
I don’t know very many adults who wish they had grown up in this era of social media, streaming, and cyberbullying. It is a lot of pressure to put on shoulders that are still growing.
This weekend I found myself reflecting on a blog I published several years ago when Angel and Giovanni were dealing with another challenge—starting middle school—and struggling with uncertainty.
Read on, fellow traveler.
Managing Anxiety During Life Transitions: The Sixth-Grade Edition
“So, tell me. Where did you get this idea that middle school will be so much harder than fifth grade?” My sons and I were driving to school for the first day of middle school and I could feel the anxiety emanate from the backseat.
I heard Giovanni exhale loudly. “From those kids who told us.” Angel remained silent, just nodding along during the conversation.
A few months prior to this conversation, my sons and their fifth-grade comrades had a question-and-answer session with a select group of sixth graders. It was intended to be an opportunity to ask questions and foster excitement about a life transition. In Giovanni’s case, however, it backfired and caused his anxiety to spiral.
“Tell me what they said.”
“They said that it’s a lot harder and it’s a lot more homework. They said that the teachers are really strict and get mad if you forget stuff.” I heard the anxiety and the helplessness woven through his words that I’d missed in our previous conversations when I grappled with my own frustration and disappointment about his attitude.
I heard what he didn’t say, namely that school already felt hard and that even basic homework feels interminable when very little comes academically easy.
I suddenly realized that it had been a long time since I’d seen him light up with excitement when he figured something out or heard his deep, belly laugh.
He’d been carrying a heavy load on his eleven-year-old shoulders, and I’d missed how much it was weighing him down.
“And, hey, Mom, you know Brayden?” I nodded (Brayden is not his friend’s actual name). “Sixth grade was so hard that he started having really bad headaches almost all the time and some days he had to stay in bed with the lights off.”
I took a deep breath as deep compassion for my son, and Brayden too, welled inside me.
“Okay. Let’s take those one at a time.” He nodded.
“Sixth grade is supposed to be harder than fifth grade, just like fifth grade was harder than fourth grade. But your brain is getting smarter and better able to put things together, so it shouldn’t actually feel a lot harder.” I looked in the rearview mirror and saw him nod.
“Is the homework the part that you’re most worried about?” He nodded. “I get that. You know what I think?” He shook his head. “I wonder if the kids who say that the homework is a lot harder are using their advisory time efficiently and asking their teachers for help. Maybe they aren’t choosing successful strategies.”
“I don’t do that. I do my homework during advisory and get help if I don’t understand.”
I nodded. “I know you do and that’s why I’ll be very surprised if homework in sixth grade feels a lot harder than fifth-grade homework.”
“Really?”
We made eye contact and I nodded. “Now let’s talk about the sixth-grade teachers. If you’d forgotten something for Mrs. Bowman or Mr. Rodriguez, how would they have handled it?”
“They would have said ‘Bring it tomorrow.’”
“Your new teachers will likely have the same response.”
“But they’re middle school teachers, Mom.”
“But they’re still teachers and teachers know that sixth graders are learning and make mistakes. They know there will be times when you forget, and they—and I—will expect you to take responsibility when that happens.” I looked in the rearview mirror and saw him nodding along while looking out the window.
“And sixth grade doesn’t cause headaches. Brayden probably struggled for reasons that had nothing to do with sixth grade.” I caught his eye in the mirror and found myself smiling in response to his grin.
“So, you think if I keep doing my work during advisory that the homework won’t be so bad?”
I nodded. “And if the homework is bad, what could you do?”
“Go ask for help.”
And, with that, sixth grade began.
Managing Anxiety During Life Transitions: Five Years Later
Sixth grade wasn’t easy and it wasn’t as bad as Giovanni had feared that morning in the car. Some parts were better than he expected, some parts harder. I was correct that his—their—middle school teachers wanted to help and understood that middle schoolers are still figuring things out.
The boys quickly learned that high school isn’t middle school. Sometimes things go according to plan. Other times they don’t and you may find yourself muddling through online learning of physics because the school is still scrambling to find a teacher.
Turns out that sixteen-year-old shoulders can feel overburdened, too.
As I revisited this blog, I reread the words I had written five years ago about what I wished I’d said to Giovanni—and to Angel, who had remained silent but nodded along throughout our conversation. They were words about making space for anxiety and uncertainty during challenging times and about turning to teachers for guidance and support when help was needed.
They’re five years older now, and so am I. We all know some truths that we didn’t know then.
Not all teachers are tolerant of mistake-making. Some—very few—may respond to an honest mistake with shaming that diminishes motivation and resilience.
Some teachers are not open to requests for assistance or guidance during times of uncertainty and confusion.
High school does feel harder than middle school, even when the brain is stronger and more capable.
School may not cause headaches, but stress certainly can. Truth: I did know that in the car, but diverting into a lecture about the mind-body connection seemed off-topic to what was needed.
All things considered, most of the teachers Angel and Giovanni have encountered at their school of more than 2,000 students have been willing to help once they understood that a struggle existed. Even the poor teacher who is covering their physics class in addition to all his other responsibilities.
So, what I would say to them today has been upgraded a bit in the last five years.
Oh, Giovanni and Angel, here is the truth, dear hearts. Sometimes life is really scary, and we find ourselves trapped in our worries that we aren’t enough to handle whatever challenge awaits us.
We have all been there and know that place doesn’t feel good, whether you are in sixth grade, sixteen, or sixty-six.
When we find ourselves in that place, we sometimes tell ourselves things that feel absolutely true. Sometimes they aren’t true at all. Sometimes they contain a bit of truth. And sometimes they’re more accurate than we’d like to admit.
I can’t do this.
I’m not smart enough to figure this out.
I can’t tell anyone that I’m struggling.
I have to figure this out myself.
Everyone else has this figured out.
Take a deep breath, loves. Then take more until you feel your heart rate slow down.
Then return to what you know is true, not what may feel true in the moment when your anxious thoughts are spiraling and your heart is racing.
I can’t do this yet. Yet is one of the most powerful words ever. Yet brings hope and a reminder that we’re supposed to be learning, growing, making mistakes, finding new strategies, and gaining more resources.
I’m smart enough to figure out how to move forward. First, you may need to find some new strategies or assistance.
I can tell people I’m struggling and ask for help. It might be really hard and feel uncomfortable, but it is possible and might be helpful.
I do not have to figure whatever it is out by myself. You have people who want to help you, like me and your teachers. Loop us in before the struggle feels overwhelming, and maybe together we can help you move forward.
Nobody has everything figured out. Everyone has things that are challenging them. Some of those things that come very easily to you may feel impossible to someone else. Offer them support and help if they ask.
Turns out those words, with a bit of tweaking, work for sixteen-year-old shoulders too.
Ubuntu, fellow traveler.
Jennifer
Check Out Previous Reflections
If this reflection resonated with you, you may also enjoy exploring other posts from Still River Reflections related to managing anxiety during life transitions.
Fear and Anxiety Are Welcome to Visit
How to Find Courage When Your Life Falls Apart
This blog was originally published on our Substack page and has been revisited and expanded for this reflection.
© 2026 Jennifer Ayres, PhD | Still River Counseling, PLLC
Written with care for fellow travelers navigating life’s changing currents.
StillRiverCounseling.com | Austin, TX
Gentle Reminder: The reflections shared here are intended to offer insight and support. They are not a substitute for therapy or professional mental-health care, and reading this blog does not create a therapeutic or doctor–patient relationship.
