A few days ago, my six-year-old came home from a playdate with shoulders sagging and tears in his eyes. “Nobody wanted to play with me today,” he said. In that moment, I was catapulted back to my own grown-up version of the same sting, learning about a meeting I wasn’t invited to.
Brains of every age register that exclusion as actual pain; functional MRI studies show the anterior cingulate cortex lighting up during social rejection just as it does when we stub a toe.
We like to think adulthood vaccinates us against playground politics, yet a meta analysis of 120 Cyberball experiments (a virtual ball tossing game researchers use to simulate ostracism) finds that even brief exclusion tanks self-esteem and mood in participants well past puberty.
The long-running Harvard Study of Adult Development echoes the cost: people who nurture warm relationships live longer, are happier, and stay mentally sharper—decades of data distilled to one sentence, “Good relationships keep us healthier and happier, period.”
So what helps? First, call the feeling by its name. Neuroscientists argue that labeling an emotion recruits the thinking parts of the brain and lowers its intensity; it’s like dimming a harsh light.
Next, treat yourself with the same gentleness you’d offer a friend; a 2025 systematic review shows self-compassion cushions the blow of social media comparisons and other modern snubs.
Then take a small risk: send the “Miss you! Coffee soon?” text. People with about five dependable friends report the highest well-being, while those averaging barely three lag behind, according to a recent Australian survey on friendship and mental health. Building (or rebuilding) those five can start with one invite.
When our kids feel iced out, the script shifts from fixing to listening. Researchers tracking online peer rejection found that children bounced back fastest when they felt supported by parents or teachers. So I sit on the kitchen floor, eye level with my son, and say, “That sounds rough. Tell me everything.” Only after he exhales do we practice what he might say tomorrow: “Can I have a turn after Jason?” or, if need be, “That hurts. Please stop.”
Remember, modeling is powerful; when children see or hear their parents experience rejection or feeling left out, and they see a healthy, action-oriented response, they learn that resilience is an action verb.
It can be tempting to try and hide our own “negative” or “hurtful” feelings from our children. But being open with them about what’s going on in our world and how we’re dealing with certain issues can build our connection with them and boost their confidence. Of course, it’s important these conversations remain age-appropriate.
Sometimes exclusion crosses the line into bullying. If your child’s stomachaches multiply or their spark dims, loop in the teacher early and document patterns. Often, though, the remedy is simpler: genuine connection. Last night, while my toddler built block towers, my son and I drew a “friend web” on scrap paper: classmates, cousins, and neighbors. These circles and lines reminded him (and me) how many doors can swing open when one seems shut.
Feeling left out is universal, but it doesn’t have to be terminal. Name it, tend to it with kindness, and reach out, whether you’re six or thirty-five.
Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

