Ellie came home from her first week of kindergarten and burst into tears. Not because anything terrible happened. Because her teacher had rearranged the classroom.
That’s when I knew for certain: my daughter is a highly sensitive child.
She notices everything. The tag in her shirt. The fact that I’m stressed even when I try to hide it. When someone’s feelings are hurt across the room. It’s both a gift and a challenge, this deep way she experiences the world.
According to psychologist Elaine Aron, who pioneered research on high sensitivity, roughly 20% of children are highly sensitive. These kids process information and stimuli from their environment more intensely and deeply than others. Their brains literally work differently, registering feelings and experiences more profoundly.
As parents, the words we choose with these children matter even more than usual. What might roll off another child’s back can stick with a highly sensitive child for years.
Here are eight things you should never say to them.
1) “You’re too sensitive”
This is probably the most damaging phrase of all, and it’s the one I heard constantly growing up.
When you tell a highly sensitive child they’re “too sensitive,” you’re essentially telling them that their fundamental way of experiencing the world is wrong. That who they are at their core is a problem that needs fixing.
But sensitivity isn’t a flaw. It’s a temperament, a hardwired trait that comes with both challenges and remarkable strengths.
When we try to shame children out of their sensitivity, we don’t make them less sensitive. We just make them feel ashamed of their emotions. They learn to hide their feelings rather than process them, which leads to anxiety, depression, and difficulty forming healthy relationships later in life.
Instead of “you’re too sensitive,” try validating what they’re feeling: “I can see this really affected you” or “Your feelings make sense.”
2) “Stop crying” or “calm down”
I learned this one the hard way with Ellie.
She was sobbing over a scraped knee (a tiny one), and I said, “Come on, it’s not that bad. Stop crying.” The look on her face, the way she turned inward and shut down, I knew immediately I’d messed up.
When we tell highly sensitive children to stop crying or calm down, we’re asking them to do something they literally can’t do in that moment. Their nervous system is flooded. They’re overwhelmed. Telling them to stop is like telling someone who’s drowning to just start swimming.
What they actually need is for us to be a calm, steady presence while the storm passes. To acknowledge their distress once and then just be there quietly.
Matt is better at this than I am. When Ellie is upset, he just sits near her, maybe rubs her back, and waits. He doesn’t try to fix it or talk her out of it. And she calms down so much faster than when I’m jumping in with solutions or reassurances.
3) “It’s not a big deal”
But it is a big deal. To them.
This is something I have to remind myself constantly. What seems minor to me can feel enormous to Ellie. The seam in her sock. The fact that her toast broke in half instead of staying whole. These things genuinely cause her distress.
Telling a highly sensitive child “it’s not a big deal” invalidates their experience. It teaches them not to trust their own emotional responses. It sends the message that their internal world doesn’t matter or isn’t real.
I’m learning to respond differently. “I can see that really bothers you” or “That feels really important to you right now, doesn’t it?” It doesn’t mean I change the toast or find new socks every time. It just means I acknowledge that her feelings are real before we move forward.
4) “Why can’t you be more like your brother/sister?”
Milo is two and completely unbothered by most things. Loud noises? Fine. New situations? Whatever. Tags in his clothes? Doesn’t even notice.
It would be easy to compare them. To wish Ellie could just be more easygoing like her brother. But that comparison would be incredibly damaging.
Highly sensitive children already feel different from their peers. They’re aware that they react more strongly, need more processing time, have bigger feelings. Comparing them to siblings or other children just reinforces the painful idea that something is wrong with them.
Each child’s temperament is valid. Ellie’s sensitivity means she’s also incredibly empathetic, creative, and insightful. Those gifts come with the same wiring that makes her sensitive to tags and classroom rearrangements.
When I find myself wanting to compare, I try to pause and celebrate what makes each of my kids unique instead.
5) “Toughen up” or “grow a thicker skin”
This advice, though common, fundamentally misunderstands how sensitivity works.
You can’t toughen up a highly sensitive nervous system any more than you can will yourself to be taller. It’s not a choice or a weakness. It’s how their brain processes information.
According to research on highly sensitive children, being harsh or critical to “toughen them up” actually has the opposite effect. It makes them more anxious, more prone to second-guessing themselves, and more sensitive to criticism.
What these children need isn’t a thicker skin. They need support in developing healthy coping strategies while we honor their sensitivity as the strength it can be.
I’m working on teaching Ellie emotional regulation skills, giving her tools to manage her big feelings. But I’m not trying to make her less sensitive. That would be like asking a flower to be less colorful.
6) “You’re overreacting”
No, they’re not.
They’re reacting exactly as their nervous system is wired to react. For a highly sensitive child, what looks like an overreaction from the outside is actually a proportional response to how intensely they’re experiencing something.
When Ellie melted down because I cut her sandwich the wrong way, she wasn’t being dramatic. Her brain really did register that as deeply distressing. Her expectations were violated, her sense of order disrupted, and for a five-year-old with a sensitive nervous system, that felt overwhelming.
Telling her she’s overreacting teaches her to distrust her own emotional responses. It suggests that her internal experience is somehow invalid or wrong.
What helps more: acknowledging the feeling while teaching coping strategies. “I see you’re really upset about the sandwich. Let’s take some deep breaths together and figure out what we can do.”
For highly sensitive kids especially, having simple calming tools makes a huge difference.
Art activities can be particularly powerful for helping them process and regulate intense emotions in the moment. Check out the video below for a few activities that calm childhood anxiety in seconds and bring children back to a place of security and safety:
7) “Nothing bad is going to happen”
Highly sensitive children often have a strong startle response and can be cautious in new situations. Ellie always pauses before trying something new, observing carefully before jumping in.
When I try to rush her with reassurances like “nothing bad is going to happen,” it actually makes her more anxious. Because I’m essentially dismissing her need to assess the situation first.
This “pause to check” behavior is actually protective. It’s part of how highly sensitive people’s brains work, helping them avoid risky situations throughout life.
Instead of pushing them to just jump in, we can honor their need to observe. “Take your time. You can watch for as long as you need to. When you’re ready, you can try it.”
This approach respects their process while still encouraging them to eventually engage.
8) “Don’t be so emotional”
But they are emotional. Deeply emotional. That’s part of what makes them who they are.
My mother said this to me constantly when I was growing up. She meant well, she thought she was helping me prepare for a tough world. But what it actually did was teach me to be ashamed of my feelings.
I stuffed everything down, tried to appear calm and unbothered on the outside while churning on the inside. It took years of therapy to unlearn that pattern and accept that my emotional depth isn’t a flaw.
I’m determined not to pass that shame on to Ellie. When she’s having big feelings, I try to help her name them and work through them rather than shut them down.
“You’re feeling really angry right now” or “It seems like you’re overwhelmed” gives her language for her experience and shows her that emotions are information, not problems to be eliminated.
Conclusion
Every time I catch myself about to say one of these phrases, I pause. I remember what it felt like to be a sensitive child in a world that kept telling me I was too much. I think about the kind of parent I want to be for Ellie.
And then I choose different words. Words that validate instead of dismiss. Words that support instead of shame. Words that say: your sensitivity is not a flaw, it’s part of what makes you beautifully, wonderfully you.
It’s not always easy. Some days I get it wrong and have to repair. But I’m learning alongside her, and that’s okay too.
Our highly sensitive children are watching how we respond to their big feelings. We’re teaching them whether their emotional depth is something to hide or something to honor.
Let’s choose honor.
