Let’s Talk About the Hidden Side of Kids’ Health

Yesterday, we found ourselves sitting across from a consultant paediatrician specialising in gastroenterology. It’s been a long journey, investigating what’s behind our nearly 15-year-old daughter’s ongoing stomach cramps and nausea—symptoms so intense they’ve kept her from school at times. As someone who has dedicated my career to stress illness, I had a pretty good hunch that anxiety might be involved but it is always essential to have any structural abnormalities ruled out.

After a thorough physical exam, the doctor looked at us kindly and asked, “What do you think might be going on?”

And just like that, everything shifted.

You see, our daughter had bravely voiced some time ago that she thought it might be linked to anxiety—the pressure of school, exams and the melting pot of pressures they find themselves under. All the things so many teenagers are quietly carrying. And to our surprise, the doctor didn’t dismiss it. He nodded with understanding and said:

Forty. Percent.
Let that land.

That’s nearly half of the young people he sees—struggling with very real physical pain rooted in emotional stress. And when I told him about my work in mind-body coaching, his eyes lit up. We connected immediately. Here was someone within the medical system openly recognising the intricate dance between our minds and our bodies.

So… what do we do for that 40%?

We talk about it.

We listen—really listen—to our kids.

We open up conversations around anxiety, overwhelm, and pressure.

 We treat emotional pain with the same seriousness we give to physical symptoms.

We’re now putting support in place for our daughter—things that resonate with her, as a teen navigating a fast, noisy, often pressured world. This isn’t about “fixing” her. It’s about helping her understand her mind, her body, and the incredible connection between the two.

And then came the part I really wasn’t expecting…

The doctor gave us a prescription, not for pills, but for empowerment.

He gently encouraged my daughter to accept the diagnosis of IBS, not as something broken or wrong, but as her body’s way of responding to stress. That this pain, while very real, isn’t causing damage—and she holds the power to influence it.

He looked her in the eye and told her she was in control. That she could decide if the pain escalated or softened. Then he did something so human, so powerful—he shared his own experience with OCD as a young adult. How he had therapy. How he overcame the hardest parts. He normalised diagnosis, therapy, struggle. There was no stigma. Just honesty.

At this point, I was ready to propose marriage on the spot (don’t worry—I’m happily taken!). I just wanted to hug him for giving my daughter not just answers, but hope.

He encouraged physical activity to help burn off the nervous energy anxiety creates (yes!). He spoke about mindfulness—something my daughter might not resonate with right now, but we’ll explore creative, teen-friendly ways to introduce it. He talked about mindset, about reframing negatives into positives.

And then came the cherry on the cake.
He said:

I could have cried. This man, in his position of medical authority, gently melted away my daughter’s fears. He validated her pain, reframed her experience, and gave her tools to take back her power.

This is the kind of medicine our children need more of:
Rooted in empathy.
Grounded in science.
Embracing the full mind-body connection.

So yes, I will talk about this. Time and time again.

Because our emotional worlds shape our physical ones. Because our bodies don’t just “malfunction”—they speak. And with the right support, the right mindset, and the right conversations, we can begin to understand what they’re saying.

We can change chronic symptoms without surgery or pills.
We can teach our children that healing isn’t just possible—it’s powerful.

And most of all, we are not alone.

Let’s keep this conversation going. For our kids. For that 40%. For a future where emotional wellbeing is woven into every health journey.