Why I Often Peed My Pants as a Kid (and Why It Wasn’t My Fault)
Lindsey Peterson 
Understanding Interoceptive Awareness, Shame, and a More Compassionate Way to Support Our Kids + Ourselves
For years, I carried quiet shame about something I didn’t really talk about: how often I peed my pants as a child.
It’s not exactly the kind of thing you bring up in conversation. It was embarrassing then, and for a long time, it remained a source of private confusion and self-blame. I wondered: What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just go to the bathroom like everyone else?
I didn’t just have the occasional accident — it happened regularly.
I peed my pants in the car on long road trips.
I peed my pants in my second grade classroom.
And each time, it felt like the signal to go came all at once, out of nowhere. One minute I felt fine, and the next it was urgent — go now — and often, it was already too late.
I wasn’t lazy. I wasn’t distracted. I wasn’t doing it for attention. And I definitely wasn’t doing it on purpose.
What I’ve come to understand now — especially with a deeper knowledge of the nervous system and neurodivergence — is that what I was experiencing had a name: interoceptive awareness (or more accurately, lack of it).
What Is Interoceptive Awareness?
Interoceptive Awareness is our brain’s ability to sense what’s happening inside our body. It helps us recognize cues like hunger, thirst, fatigue, anxiety — and yes, the need to use the bathroom.
For many kids, especially those who are neurodivergent (like those with ADHD, sensory processing challenges, or autism), interoceptive signals can be delayed, dulled, or hard to interpret. That means the signal to “go now” may come too late — or not at all — until it’s already happening.
As a kid, I didn’t have words for this. I just knew my body didn’t seem to work like other kids’ did. And when adults responded with frustration or punishment, it only made things worse. I started to believe it was my fault.
What Happens When Adults Get It Wrong
So many parenting strategies around bathroom accidents are based in the assumption that the child can control it — and simply isn’t. So we see punishments, sticker charts, shaming language, and ultimatums.
But what if we saw it differently?
What if, instead of assuming kids were being difficult, we got curious about what might be happening in their bodies and brains?
What if we paused and asked:
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Could this child be missing internal cues?
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Is their nervous system dysregulated?
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Are they feeling overwhelmed, distracted, or disconnected from their body?
Instead of piling on shame or control, we could offer support — helping them build awareness and regulation without fear or blame.
How I Show Up for My Kids Now
Because I’ve lived it, I show up differently for my kids.
When we’re in the car and one of them says they need to pee — I believe them. I don’t say, “Just wait a few more minutes” or “Can you hold it until the next stop?”
If I can pull over, I pull over right now.
Because I know what it’s like for that signal to feel sudden and urgent — for it to go from nothing to emergency in a split second. I don’t assume they’re exaggerating or trying to be difficult. I trust that they know their body in that moment, even if it doesn’t follow a perfect schedule.
It’s a small shift, but it matters. It’s a way I can help them feel safe in their own body — and seen in moments that could otherwise be filled with shame.
This Doesn’t Just Affect Kids
Let’s be honest: as adults, we do this to ourselves too.
We try to squeeze so much into our days — push through discomfort, ignore internal signals, and tell ourselves “I’ll just finish this one thing first…”
But our bodies don’t work like that.
When you need to pee, the signal won’t just quietly go away. It starts as a whisper and builds to a shout — often interrupting the very task we were so focused on completing. And for those of us with ADHD or executive functioning challenges, that interruption means task-switching — which can throw off the whole rhythm and make it harder to return to what we were doing.
So here’s my gentle reminder:
Just go when you have time.
Or better yet, make time for it.
Your body matters. The signals matter. Ignoring them doesn’t make you more productive — just more disconnected.
Rewriting the Story
Naming this now as an adult has helped me let go of the shame I didn’t even realize I was still carrying. I wasn’t careless. I wasn’t doing it for attention. I was a kid whose body and brain weren’t fully in sync — and I needed support, not scolding.
No kid wants to pee their pants. I know I didn’t.
And no kid should have to carry shame for something they don’t understand — especially when the adults around them don’t understand it either.
A Note to Parents (and Adults, Too)
If you’re walking through this with your own child, take a breath. It’s okay. You’re not failing, and neither are they.
Instead of focusing on consequences, try focusing on connection. Instead of asking, “Why did they do this again?” ask, “What might they need help noticing in their body?”
And if you’re the one pushing through, holding it in, or overriding your own cues — maybe this is your invitation too.
You don’t have to be perfect. Just curious. Just open. That small shift in perspective can change everything — for your child, and for you.
✉️ Stay Connected
If this resonated with you — whether you’re a provider, a seeker, or someone still sorting through the questions — I’d love to stay in touch.
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