My Kid Says Life Feels Boring—And Honestly, Same

Parent Letter

Lately my 10-year-old has been saying that life feels boring. Same routine, same food, same everything. I tried reassuring him it’s just a phase, but truthfully, I feel it too. We’re both just going through the motions. I want to help him—but also help myself—feel more alive again. How do I do that without blowing everything up?

— Flat and Frustrated Mom

Dear webe Response

Dear Flat and Frustrated Mom,

First, thank you for your honesty. It takes courage to name what so many of us feel but often ignore: that quiet numbness of going through the motions, even when nothing’s “wrong” on the surface.

What you and your child are experiencing isn’t laziness or lack of gratitude—it’s the natural result of living in what we call default mode. This is the state where routine takes over presence, predictability replaces wonder, and days start to blur. It’s not a failure. It’s a nervous system strategy designed to keep us safe through sameness. But over time, that safety can start to feel like a cage.

And here’s the powerful thing: your child noticed it. They named it. That’s not a problem—it’s a gift. Kids often mirror back the truths we haven’t quite faced yet. When your child says life feels boring, it’s not a complaint—it’s a bid for connection. For novelty. For aliveness.

You don’t need to flip your life upside down. You just need to invite in a small shift.

Try this: sit down with your child and ask, “What’s one small new thing we could try this week—just to shake things up a little?” Maybe it’s having breakfast for dinner. Maybe it’s dancing while brushing teeth. Maybe it’s walking a different path to school. These 5% shifts signal to the nervous system: “We’re safe, and we’re allowed to play.”

Also, share your own truth. Let them know you sometimes feel this way too. Show them what it looks like to notice, to name, and to try something new. Your presence in that shared vulnerability is more powerful than any advice.

For your own restoration, begin with somatic check-ins: take 30 seconds to pause during the day and ask, “What do I feel in my body right now?” These tiny moments of awareness can begin to loosen the grip of autopilot.

Aliveness doesn’t require a dramatic overhaul. It begins with permission—to feel, to try, to color outside the lines, even just a little.

From one parent doing the best they can to another, webe in this together!
Best wishes,
webe

P.S. If this topic resonated with you and you’re curious how it shows up in your own life—not just as a parent, but as a person—we wrote about this same theme from a more personal angle in our Substack. It’s a gentle reflection on how we carry numbness, push through monotony, and learn to soften back into presence.