When a child plays alone at preschool, most adults assume something’s wrong. Shyness, isolation, neglect — we rush to diagnose instead of understand. But what if some children are simply wired for independence? What if our obsession with fitting in is the real problem?
Last night, I sat in a preschool meeting that reminded me exactly why I stopped trying to live the “right” way — and why I’ll never push my kids to either.
The Preschool “Dilemma” That Said Too Much
Last night we had a parent meeting at our children’s preschool. During the meeting, the parents were presented with a ‘dilemma’ we were supposed to find solutions to together around our tables.
Here was the pretend scenario:
A little girl started at the preschool 4 weeks prior but you (as a parent) notice she is always playing by herself when you drop off our kids. When asked if the girl wants to play with the other kids, she says no. You mention something to the girl’s mother, who responds that “she’s just an independent child.” You see on a few separate occasions when picking up your children at the end of the day that the little girl is crying. What do you do?
And I gotta tell you, I was kind of flabbergasted by the answers.
The other parents at my table were appalled. A child playing by herself?! A tragedy! The audacity of that mother to assume her poor child is “just independent” and not do something!
They would approach the mom again and ask if something were wrong at home. They would invite the child home for a playdate. They would ask the staff if they were doing enough to integrate the child.
Now, I’m not saying these answers weren’t potentially good solutions. The parents obviously cared about this fake child’s wellbeing.
But what really irked me was this assumption that the child not playing with the other kids was a sign that something was wrong with her.
When “Normal” Becomes the Standard for Everyone
There was absolutely no discussion about whether this child could have been neurodivergent. Or that maybe she truly is a kid who enjoys independent play. Or that she could be crying at the end of the day because she is completely overstimulated by being around the constant activity of the day.
Nope. It was a complete scandal that this child didn’t fit in — that she didn’t act like the rest of the kids.
Of course, connection and belonging matter. But belonging doesn’t have to mean constant participation, does it? Maybe sometimes the most connected children are the quiet ones, watching from the edge, fully content in their own company.
The Invisible Pressure to Blend In
And the poor fake mother… it was assumed that she didn’t care about her child at all. It was assumed that she was lazy or even negligent.
There was not even the slightest consideration that perhaps the mother understood her child’s nature and wasn’t going to push her into activities that didn’t feel comfortable for her. Maybe the mother trusted that her daughter needed a little space in the mornings to acclimate, and trusted the preschool teachers to integrate her in ways that worked for her throughout the day. Maybe that mother was crying every day in her car racing to the preschool from work to pick up her daughter who she knew would be distressed by the end of the day.
This wasn’t a thing. The only concern the other parents at the table had was that the girl wasn’t playing together with the other kids. She wasn’t being social enough. She wasn’t behaving “normally.”
Parenting in Denmark (and the Problem with Perfection)
And now that I’m already on a roll with my rant — let’s take it to the next level. This is what parenting in Denmark is like all the time.
The Danes love their tribe. Everything is about working together and making the community thrive. Harmony and social trust. Which, on paper, sounds like a great thing, right?
But in practice it means there is a constant and suffocating pressure to do what everyone else does. To fit in. To follow the rules and traditions.
There’s very little room for individuality. If something works for the whole, it must work for every person who makes up that whole. Differences are a defect to be fixed, not something to understand and embrace.
This little “dilemma” exercise — meant to spark ideas between parents and teachers — actually reflected how this mentality plays out in real life. And I’m sure that I was the only one who picked up on any of it.
Maybe I Was the Little Girl
Because that’s maybe where the heart of this whole story lies. Maybe I was the little girl in the scenario. Maybe in her I saw a bit of myself — the girl who enjoyed solitude and got easily overstimulated and was so damn tired of the pressure to do it another way when it didn’t feel right.
And I grew up to be a woman who felt like life was a performance. I had to do things the way I was supposed to do them — the “right” way — even when I knew that it wasn’t right for me.
I burned out. I lost myself.
Eventually, I decided I didn’t want to live that way anymore.
The Real Dilemma
And now I’m the cooky mom sitting around the table with the other Danish parents, biting my tongue while inside I’m screaming, can we please just let this girl be who she is?
I guess that’s the real dilemma — how to stay true to yourself (and raise your kids to do the same) in a world that keeps telling you to blend in.
Maybe you were that little girl once too. The one who just needed space. The one who wasn’t lonely, just different.
And maybe if the people around you had understood that and supported you for who you were instead of trying to make you fit in, your story might have unfolded a little differently too.
That’s the gift we get now. To notice the differences, honor them, and make room for every little girl (even the imaginary ones) to just be herself.
If you want to save this letter for later, pin it with one of the images below!
