What school anxiety in children really looks like—and how to spot it early

"I don’t want to go to school."
It sounds familiar. Maybe you said it as a kid. Maybe you’ve heard it from your own. It can feel like just another part of the morning routine—brushed teeth, packed bag, protest. But for some children, it’s more than reluctance. It’s anxiety.

School anxiety doesn’t always announce itself with trembling or tears. Sometimes, it hides in headaches, tummy aches, clingy moments, or silence. And while it's easy to assume these emotions start in primary school, the truth is: they often show up earlier—and louder.

Let’s walk through how school anxiety looks across the early childhood timeline: daycare, preschool, and primary school. Because the signs are there, even if kids don’t have the words for them yet.

Picture this: You’re rushing out the door, baby bag in one hand, a wriggling toddler in the other. You hand them off to the daycare teacher and—cue the meltdown. Screaming, clinging, crocodile tears. You tell yourself it’s normal. And it often is. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Around 8 to 10 months old, babies start to understand object permanence—the idea that people and things still exist, even when they’re out of sight. And with that realization comes a new worry: If you’re not visible, are you coming back? Add to that a toddler’s fuzzy sense of time and zero understanding of routine, and every daycare drop-off can feel like abandonment—even if it’s just for a few hours.

Crying is the most obvious cue. But other signs of anxiety include refusing to eat at daycare, latching onto one adult and avoiding others, or becoming unusually quiet. Some toddlers become overly energetic or aggressive as a way to mask fear. Here’s what’s important: Most toddlers calm down after you leave. It’s not that they’re pretending. It’s that their brains settle once they feel safe again. Still, that doesn’t mean the goodbye should be treated as a non-event.

Start with rituals. Peek-a-boo isn’t just a cute game—it teaches return. If your child is old enough, narrate the routine: “I’ll drop you off, go to work, then come back and pick you up after snack.” Repetition is safety.

At drop-off, keep your goodbye short but warm. No sneaking out, no long explanations. A hug, a clear “I’ll be back after playtime,” and a confident exit. Children are sensitive to hesitation. If you waver, they will too. Some parents rotate drop-offs between caregivers. Others send a familiar item—a blanket, a small toy—that acts like a piece of home. Do what builds continuity, not confusion.

By the time your child reaches preschool, you might think the tough goodbyes are over. But for some kids, anxiety doesn’t fade—it just changes shape.

Preschool introduces a new kind of unknown: routine. There are circle times, snack schedules, social expectations, and strange adults giving instructions. For a three-year-old who’s never followed group rules, this can feel overwhelming. It’s also the first time many children confront performance expectations—sitting still, sharing, using the toilet alone. Even small transitions (from play to cleanup) can feel like emotional mountains.

Anxious preschoolers might beg not to go, refuse to put on shoes, or suddenly develop stomachaches or headaches. Others become emotionally sticky—asking over and over, “Will you stay?” “What if I get lost?” “Can you come with me?” Sometimes, the anxiety appears after school rather than before. Meltdowns in the afternoon can signal that your child has been masking all day and is now crashing emotionally.

Normalize school by making it familiar. Take your child for a classroom tour. Meet the teacher. Let them see the toys and books ahead of time. If your child is socially hesitant, arrange a playdate with a future classmate. One familiar face can change the entire classroom dynamic.

At home, role-play situations like saying hello to a new friend or asking a teacher for help. Use dolls, puppets, or even snack time setups to practice. You're not rehearsing for perfection—you’re building muscle memory for confidence. During drop-offs, stick to the same script. Say goodbye. Leave. Trust the teacher to take over. And if things don’t improve after several weeks, speak to the school privately. They may have insights you haven’t seen—or offer gentle support during the transition period.

By age six or seven, most children are expected to “know the routine.” So when school resistance reappears, it can be confusing. Why now? Why again?

The answer: because the demands have changed—and so have the pressures.

Primary school introduces structure in a new way. Kids are evaluated, compared, and expected to self-regulate. For some, this activates academic stress. For others, the fear is social: being laughed at for the wrong answer, picked last in PE, or teased at recess.

Underlying conditions—like generalized anxiety disorder or social anxiety—can also intensify during these years. And many children won’t have the language to articulate that stress. They’ll just know school doesn’t feel safe.

School anxiety in older kids can be sneaky. You might see frequent complaints of not feeling well, disrupted sleep, or sudden moodiness. Some kids become perfectionists, erasing homework until it’s “just right.” Others become avoidant—slow to get ready, late to class, distracted. Some kids will fight to stay home. Others will go to school, but cry, freeze up, or refuse to participate once there. The key pattern? Consistency. If your child is miserable every weekday morning but recovers by Saturday, it’s time to dig deeper.

First, rule out the obvious: physical illness, vision problems, bullying. Then, give your child space to talk without pressure. Start open-ended: “What’s been the hardest part of school lately?” or “When do you feel the most worried during the day?” Validate the feeling, even if the cause seems small. Remember, a big emotion about a small thing is still a big emotion. And telling a child to “just get over it” rarely makes them feel safe enough to try.

If the anxiety lingers or worsens, reach out to the school counselor or a child psychologist. Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) is a gold standard treatment for anxiety and is often very effective in school-aged children. In some cases, especially when anxiety is severe or linked to another condition, medication may be considered. But intervention isn’t about removing the stressor—it’s about helping the child build tools to handle it.

It’s tempting to assume that school anxiety is something kids outgrow. And for many, it is. But brushing off emotional distress as “just nerves” risks missing something deeper.

Repeated avoidance can set a pattern that extends into adolescence—social withdrawal, low academic confidence, or more severe anxiety disorders. Early intervention isn’t just about reducing today’s tears. It’s about strengthening tomorrow’s resilience. An anxious child doesn’t need a tougher skin. They need a safer space to feel what they’re feeling, and a scaffolding to help them move through it.

School is often the first major system children are asked to navigate on their own. It’s where they start learning how to follow others, advocate for themselves, form social bonds, and manage time. That’s a lot for a small human. When anxiety shows up, it’s not a failure of character. It’s a signal that something in that system doesn’t feel navigable—yet. And that’s where the adult role shifts from pushing to partnering.

You don’t need to have all the answers. You just need to notice, ask, and stay close enough that your child doesn’t have to figure it out alone.

We talk a lot about school readiness. But we often forget that emotional readiness isn’t a checklist. It’s a relationship. Between you and your child. Between your child and their teacher. Between fear and trust. Anxiety doesn’t mean your child isn’t ready for school. It just means they’re still learning how to do hard things with a little bit of support. And that learning doesn’t come from being forced. It comes from feeling safe enough to try.

So if your mornings are messy, take heart. The tears won’t last forever. But the safety you build now—the one that says, “You’re not alone”—that’s what sticks. Even long after the lunchboxes are packed.