Holding Space for your Highly Sensitive Child: Learning to See Without Rescuing

As a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) raising a highly sensitive child, one of the most painful yet powerful parts of parenting is learning to see without rescuing. Watching your child struggle while resisting the urge to intervene can feel almost unbearable. But over time, I’ve come to understand the quiet strength in simply holding space for your highly sensitive child, being present, grounded, and non-reactive as my daughter navigates her own challenges.

Recently, I watched her let several children push in front of her during a group activity. I bit my lip to stop myself from shouting out, “Stand up for yourself!” or from saying something at the end like, “Why did you let them do that?” echoes of how my own parents responded when I was her age. But I stayed silent. I chose instead to observe and validate her experience inwardly, knowing that my silence wasn’t neglect, it was protection from harm. Sometimes, doing nothing is doing everything.

I remember what it felt like as a child to be in her shoes. Letting others go first wasn’t passivity, it was strategy. It was easier, less pressurising, to go last. There was no one rushing you, no performance anxiety. These coping strategies often go unseen and misunderstood, especially by adults who value assertiveness and “standing up for yourself.” But for sensitive children, the priority is safety and emotional comfort, not dominance or approval.

That’s why it’s vital that my daughter knows I see her. That I understand why she does what she does and that her reasons are valid. Over time, with support and self-awareness, she will grow more confident and learn to take her place in the world in her own way.

The other day during a Monkeynastix class, I saw this all play out again. At the beginning, when it was just her and her sister with a few other children, she was radiant, confident, engaged, happy. But as more children filtered in, I could see her shoulders tense, her gaze become guarded, her body less fluid. And then, she got separated from her younger sister, who is far more outgoing and it was as if her compass disappeared.

The noise and movement overwhelmed her. Her coordination faltered, she struggled to follow instructions, and while the instructors offered minimal support (perhaps assuming her age meant she should cope), I could see the storm inside her.

And still, she stayed. She didn’t run. She didn’t scream. She stayed in the room and, in her own time, completed every single activity. It was a quiet triumph. One that most people wouldn’t even notice. But I saw it, and I celebrated it deeply.

After the class, we chose rest. We gave her free play, unstructured time to unwind and re-regulate. And the more we travel this path, the clearer it becomes: for our HSP household, the magic balance is about 70% free play and 30% structured activities. This is what brings out the best in her, freedom with a gentle framework.

This is also why we chose homeschooling. Not out of fear, but out of alignment. Homeschooling gives us the gift of choice, the ability to select environments, activities, and schedules that honour her unique rhythm. It allows us to be responsive, not reactive.

Raising a highly sensitive child as a highly sensitive mother is not the easiest path. But it is one of deep insight, mutual healing, and profound connection. Our children don’t need fixing. They need understanding, patience, and a safe space to unfold.

So to the other HSP mothers out there walking this gentle road, I see you. I know the ache of watching your child freeze or falter. But I also know the joy of seeing them bloom at their own pace, in their own way. That is where our real work lies: not in pushing them to be tougher, but in proving to them, again and again, that they are enough, exactly as they are.