Are young people actually worse at handling stress - or does it just seem like it?
We hear this question constantly: is it us or is it them?
Was I like this?
It sure seems like they have less capacity to handle stress…
We hear it so often that we have to talk about it.
Here’s the truth: young people today don’t have an inborn deficit in stress capacity.
The villain isn’t stress - it’s the story young people are writing about stress. And right now, that story too often paints stress as a threat instead of an exciting challenge.
Allow me to explain…
First things first: why does it seem like they have less capacity?
Adolescence is a stage where being judged by others lands harder. Social evaluation is loud. So context and meaning matter more than we think.
In any moment that could be perceived as ‘stressful’, the brain does a fast check: is this a threat or a challenge?
If the brain reads the situation as a threat, the young person reads the demand in front of them as bigger than their capacity to handle it. Their system moves to protect, not perform. That’s when you see the classic moves: freezing, avoidance, humour to deflect, perfectionism that turns into procrastination.
Within the young person, it sounds like: “I’m exposed. I’ll look dumb. Get me out of here.”
Attention narrows, memory slips, and the thinking parts of the brain go a bit quiet. It’s not laziness; it’s the nervous system doing its job - keep me safe.
Contrastingly, if the brain reads the situation as a challenge, the young person reads the demand as within reach of their resources (or at least reachable with support). The same nerves feel more like fuel. You’ll notice leaning in, short attempts, recovery after a stumble, and questions like, “Can I try again?”
Within the young person, the story shifts to: “This is hard… and I can do hard things.”
Their attention steadies, planning stays online, and effort starts to stick.
Here’s the kicker: the task didn’t change - the story did.
Threat says “I don’t have what it takes.” Challenge says “I can do hard things.”
So undoubtedly the question becomes: How do we curate environments where stress is seen as a challenge, not a threat?
Adults set the climate…
Young people don’t appraise stress in a vacuum. Meaning, they’re not just reading their bodies, they’re influenced by us, and the climate we set. Our tone, first instructions, pacing, what we correct publicly vs privately, and how we frame mistakes - all of it becomes data for the brain’s fast check: threat or challenge?
If the room signals “my standing feels shaky” (public gotchas, sarcasm, shifting rules), the story tilts to threat: protect yourself, don’t risk it.
If the room signals “you belong here and we believe in you” (clear expectations, steady tone, dignity-protecting feedback, visible pathways), the story tilts to challenge: lean in, have a go.
Think of yourself as a co-author. You can’t write their story for them, but your cues shape the opening paragraph.
How to tilt the climate toward challenge
If we want stress to land as a challenge, our climate has to say: you can handle this — and here’s how.
1) Set the meaning early.
Name the nerves before they name the moment. Try, “If you’re feeling jittery, that’s fuel arriving — we’ll use it.” A simple reframe labels arousal as useful and stops the “uh-oh” story from taking over.
2) Pair belief with a path.
“You’ve got this” only works when there’s a map. Give a tiny structure - start with your hook, make one point, then finish - so resources feel within reach and the first step is obvious.
3) Keep standards high and respect higher.
Hold the bar, protect the person. Coach privately where you can and lead with next steps: “I’m asking a lot because I believe a lot in you. I’ll walk it with you.” Dignity intact means the nervous system doesn’t have to defend itself.
4) Offer bounded choice.
Freedom within form turns “I’m trapped” into “I’ve got a handle.” Let them choose topic A or B, go first or third, 45 or 60 seconds, partner or solo - small choices that signal agency without losing structure.
5) Make belonging visible.
Treat effort as community business, not solo risk. Use a warm, consistent routine - “two things we liked; one next step” - and keep a story bank of local progress: “Last week you froze; this week you started. That’s movement.”
6) Close the loop.
Lock in the new story by noticing progress. End with a quick check - “What felt hard? What helped? What’s your next tiny step?” - and open the next lesson by naming specific wins so improvement becomes part of the room’s identity.
So back to the original question: Are young people actually worse at handling stress?
Or, are our environments so overstimulated that stress is constantly being read as a threat?
A little of column A, and a little of column B.
The good news? We can influence the read. With a steady tone, clear steps, real choice, and dignity-safe guidance, we can help the same nerves register as fuel. When we stack perceived resources, more moments land as challenge rather than threat.
Small shifts, repeated - change the story. And when the story changes, stress stops being a stop sign - and starts looking like a green light.
Want to explore this further?
