Scrolling past feelings: The hidden cost of constant distraction

When screens replace discomfort, kids lose more than we realize.

We often talk about screen time and its side effects in terms of reduced attention spans, interrupted sleep cycles and increased social media pressure. But there’s a deeper layer, one we don’t talk about nearly enough: what screens – and in particular cell phones – are replacing in our kids’ lives.

Moments of boredom. Awkward pauses. Nervous conversations. Uncertainty. Social discomfort. These aren’t things to be avoided. They're the building blocks of emotional development.

When kids are constantly able to swipe, scroll or text their way out of discomfort, they miss the quiet micro-moments that teach them how to sit with a feeling, hear their own intuition, make a choice or navigate an uncomfortable interaction. Over time, those missed moments can add up to something bigger: rising anxiety, impulsive decision making, difficulty reading social cues and a growing fear of real-life interactions.

What if screen time isn’t just a distraction, but a disruption to how our kids grow emotionally?

Developmental psychologists have found that emotional avoidance – not just what we feel, but what we don’t let ourselves feel – can increase anxiety and reduce resilience. And screens, by design, are the ultimate avoidance tool.

I’m not here to blame screens or blame parents. I’ve handed my own kids devices after long days, or reached for my phone the second a quiet moment hits. This is not about assigning fault, it’s about noticing what screens are replacing in our children’s – and our – lives and what we may be avoiding. Because once we notice these things, we can begin to shift. We can start modeling something different. And we can start teaching our kids how to handle discomfort instead of always handing them something to make it go away.

So how do we begin to reclaim those missed micro-moments?

We don’t need to overhaul our lives or ban every device. We just need to get curious. We can start by noticing the moments when our kids default to a screen, then thoughtfully shift those moments into opportunities for emotional growth.

Here’s what that might look like in real life, when kids are challenged by difficult emotions and instead of dealing with them, reach for their phone or iPad:

Replace the screen with emotional language.
You’d be surprised how many kids know the words “good” and “bad,” but don’t yet have access to feelings like jealous, guilty, disappointed or vulnerable. When your child is uncomfortable, narrate the emotion gently:
“You’re feeling uncomfortable about this, aren’t you? It feels terrible waiting for something we really want.”

Helping them connect their thoughts to their emotions gives the feeling somewhere to go—and gives your child the language to process it.

Redirect the thought into action.
A helpful phrase to remember is: What you focus on is what you feel. So when your child is stuck in a negative loop, ask: “What could you replace that thought with right now that feels a little more manageable?”

Or: “When was the last time you felt like this? What helped you get through it?”

This collaboration builds internal tools—and reinforces that emotions aren’t dangerous, they’re just data.

Create a small goal and celebrate progress.
Learning to tolerate discomfort doesn’t have to be overwhelming. Set tiny goals that encourage action and connection: “If you say hello to one person today, how should we celebrate that?” Or, “If making eye contact during conversations feels hard, how about we try for three seconds today and build from there? That’s a brave step—I can’t wait to hear how it went.”

And don’t forget to name the feeling of success: “Did you notice that little burst of pride in your chest? That’s what it feels like to do something hard and come out stronger.” Helping kids tune into that internal sense of accomplishment turns courage into confidence and makes them more likely to try again.

We can’t bubble-wrap our kids from anxiety, fear or uncertainty. But we can equip them with the tools to face them.

Deborah Winters is a clinical therapist, parent coach and author. Her book, Building Your House of Harmony: A Parent’s Blueprint to Cooperation, Respect, and Lasting Change, is available locally at the Book Whisperer (in Nest on Main) as well as in Northport Books. You can also purchase it on Amazon. Deborah’s free guide, 3 Easy Steps to Screen Time Harmony: A Parent’s Guide to Setting Digital Boundaries for Kids 8+ (Without Yelling or Nagging) is available here. For her online group coaching program, The House of Harmony Club, click here.