I've raised my 3 kids across Switzerland, Australia, and the US — each culture has taught me valuable parenting lessons

When I first moved to Switzerland from Australia, I was stunned to see 5-year-olds in high-visibility vests walking to school alone, without adult supervision.

When I asked my Swiss neighbor about this, she shrugged and said, "Children can do amazing things when you let them."

I started to give my children more responsibility and even let them walk to the local park and bakery without me. I realized they were ready, and they loved the freedom.

I remember dropping my kids off at a school playground early one rainy morning in Switzerland. The teacher stood outside, wearing her raincoat, calmly watching the children play in the rain.

In Australia, rainy days were usually spent indoors, but in Switzerland, life continues outdoors in almost any weather.

At first, my son looked up at me, unsure whether to join in. His teacher encouraged him to play, and before long, he was running around like everyone else.

That was when I really understood that common saying: "There's no such thing as bad weather, only ill-prepared people." Swiss parents approach tough situations not by avoiding discomfort, but by preparing children to handle it.

In Australia, helicopter parenting is widely frowned upon. When I worked as a teacher, I quickly learned that parents who hovered over their children didn't just limit independence, they undermined confidence.

One of the hardest parts of parenting has been learning to step back and let my children take age-appropriate risks, trusting that they can handle them.

That parenting lesson was cemented when my 3-year-old daughter identified a venomous redback spider in our bathroom. She closed the door and informed me right away.

Her preschool had taught her how to recognize dangerous Australian spiders and what to do when they encountered them. It wasn't fear-mongering, but survival training — a reminder that we can't control the road ahead, but we can prepare our children to navigate it.

Australians are laid-back by nature, but that doesn't translate to apathy when it comes to parenting.

We care deeply for our children, but we're also aware that even subtle parental anxiety can be picked up by them.

When my son was 2 years old, he started swimming lessons. His teacher gently asked me not to sit too close to the pool as she noticed that he kept looking at my face before trying anything new.

She was right. I seemed nervous, and he was even hesitant to put his head underwater.

I realized that I had to control my reactions when my children faced new challenges, otherwise my anxiety would become theirs, turning curiosity into fear instead of confidence.

For many years, I avoided entering my children in competitions because I didn't want them to feel pressured to be the best at something.

However, after moving to the United States, my perspective shifted. Doing well in a competitive environment built my kids' confidence, and losing helped build resilience.

My two older children first learned to play ice hockey in Switzerland, but it wasn't until we moved to the US that they were exposed to higher-level competition. I'm grateful for their hockey coaches who mentored them and challenged my own assumptions about competition along the way.

Later, my daughter was able to represent our country at an international level. What surprised me the most wasn't the achievement itself, but how much confidence she gained simply from being comfortable with competition.

In 2023, after two years of living in the United States, my husband and I decided to have another child, and I am so grateful that we had her here.

The town we live in embraced us as a family, and instead of feeling isolated as a new parent in a foreign country, I felt anchored in a warm and loving community.

I hadn't fully appreciated how important it was to have a network of mothers navigating similar anxieties. Unlike elsewhere, town pride and social parenting are strong here, and that shared identity matters more than I expected.

As the saying goes, "No man is an island." However, in a small-town American community, you quickly learn that even if you try to be an island as a parent, someone will always swim out, ready to help you. And I learned that it's OK to accept that help.