If you’ve felt like your kids are more anxious than we were at their age, you aren't imagining it. There’s a massive cultural conversation happening right now—sparked largely by Jonathan Haidt’s research on the "Anxious Generation"—about how we’ve essentially overprotected our kids in the real world while leaving them completely underprotected in the digital world.

We don't let them walk to the park alone because of "stranger danger" (which is statistically lower than ever), but we hand them a smartphone that gives every stranger in the world access to their pocket.

The result? A generation that is digitally fluent but "experientially starved." They know how to navigate a Roblox menu with surgical precision, but the idea of being bored in the backyard or—heaven forbid—getting a minor scrape from a tree branch feels like a crisis.

"Rewilding" isn't about becoming a hardcore survivalist or throwing the Nintendo Switch into a lake. It’s about restoring the balance. It’s about realizing that the resilience required to handle a toxic comment on Discord is actually built by the confidence gained from climbing a "dangerous" tree or building a fort that actually stays up.

Ask our chatbot for a personalized rewilding plan for your specific zip code

Resilience isn't a setting you toggle on in the iPhone Parental Controls. It’s a muscle. When kids engage in "risky play"—the kind where they might fall, get lost for a second, or have to solve a physical problem—they are doing "exposure therapy" for life.

When we eliminate all physical risk, kids don't learn how to assess any risk. This is why they fall for scams in Adopt Me! or don't know how to log off when a "friend" starts acting weird. They haven't built the internal "spidey sense" that comes from navigating the unpredictable physical world.

Sometimes you have to use the screen to beat the screen. If your kid is currently stuck in a loop of "Skibidi Toilet" memes or low-effort YouTube Shorts, you need to pivot their content toward things that make the real world look more interesting than the digital one.

Ages 7-12 This is the gold standard for modern "nature meets tech" storytelling. It’s about a robot named Roz who gets stranded on a wild island and has to learn to survive by observing animals. It’s a perfect bridge for tech-obsessed kids to start thinking about the complexity of the natural world. Note: The The Wild Robot movie is also spectacular, but the book allows for more internal reflection on what "wildness" actually means.

Ages 5+ If your kid is going to watch YouTube, make it this. Luke Nichols takes his sons on insane camping trips—building snow shelters in Alaska, foraging for berries, and catching massive fish. It’s wholesome, deeply educational, and lacks the "hyper-edited" screaming found in most MrBeast clones. It makes "hard things" look fun.

Ages 10+ (with parents) This is the ultimate study in grit. People are dropped in the wilderness with 10 items and have to survive as long as they can. Watching people fail, pivot, and succeed builds a deep respect for the elements. It’s a great show to watch together to talk about mental toughness versus physical strength.

Ages 9-13 The classic "boy vs. nature" story. If your kid thinks they can't survive without Wi-Fi, Brian’s journey after a plane crash in the Canadian wilderness is a reality check. It’s visceral, honest about the fear of the wild, and incredibly empowering.

Ages 10+ Yes, it’s a video game. But unlike Fortnite, which is designed to keep you in a dopamine loop of combat, Zelda is a "chemistry engine" that rewards curiosity and experimentation. You have to manage your stamina, cook food to stay warm, and navigate by the stars. It’s the closest a digital experience gets to the feeling of real-world exploration.

Check out our full list of 'Grit-Building' games for kids

"Risky play" doesn't mean "negligent parenting." It means matching the challenge to the child’s stage of development.

We often think we are being "good parents" by removing obstacles. But when we remove the obstacle, we remove the opportunity for the child to learn they can overcome it.

In the digital space, this looks like hovering over every Minecraft session. In the physical space, it looks like shouting "Be careful!" the second their foot leaves the ground.

Pro-tip: Instead of saying "Be careful," try saying:

This shifts the cognitive load from you to them. It builds the executive function they need to eventually navigate the "wilds" of the internet without you.

Read our guide on how to stop "helicoptering" your child's digital life

You don't need to make "the wild" a punishment for "the digital." If you say, "You’ve been on TikTok for two hours, now go outside," nature feels like a chore.

Instead, frame it as a pursuit of competence. "I noticed you're getting really good at building complex redstone circuits in Minecraft. I bet you could figure out how to build a real-world water filtration system with what we have in the garage."

Kids want to feel powerful. The digital world gives them a simulation of power (leveling up, gaining followers, winning a "Victory Royale"). The physical world gives them actual power (lighting a fire, navigating a forest, carving a spoon).

The "Anxious Generation" isn't a lost cause; they are just out of practice. By reintroducing adventure, grit, and a healthy dose of dirt into their lives, we aren't just giving them a break from screens—we are giving them the internal hardware they need to survive the digital world.

A kid who knows how to handle a literal storm in the woods is much less likely to be knocked over by a metaphorical storm on social media.

See how your family's digital habits stack up with our community survey