In my formative years, I grew up in a household where children were expected to be seen and not heard. Argumentation was off-limits, and we dutifully attended church each Sunday. The only acceptable jeans for school were fresh and unwrinkled. By the age of ten, I was informed that I was a conservative Republican—whatever that meant. Questions were never entertained; we simply nodded in compliance. I vowed to break this cycle. I promised myself I would raise my children with more freedom and less rigidity.
As I entered junior high, my parents’ divorce transformed our home dynamic. Suddenly, the atmosphere felt lighter, and I could finally breathe. It was a liberating change that I desperately needed.
Throughout my childhood, I was the loudest voice in the family, often feeling a bit out of place (and I still do). There were moments in church where I fantasized about standing on the pew and causing a ruckus just to see how people would react. I thrived on pushing boundaries. Yet, when I became a parent, I found myself slipping back into some of those old, rigid patterns I had vowed to avoid.
Don’t get me wrong; I’ve always wanted my children to grow up with the freedom to express themselves and explore their beliefs. However, I often found myself becoming overly uptight in public, setting unrealistic expectations about their diets, and occasionally slipping into overparenting. The tendency to be overprotective and strict came naturally to me, even though it was something I had resented during my own upbringing.
Nobody wants to be the parent of “that kid” who embarrasses others or teaches poor manners. I also didn’t want to be so inflexible that my children missed out on simply being themselves. I caught myself enforcing rules that were impossible to maintain. For instance, on the way to a birthday party, I told my son he couldn’t have cake because he was misbehaving. Wasn’t that unfair to the generous host who had gone through the trouble of organizing everything?
Finding the right balance in parenting is a daunting challenge that many of my friends are still navigating. Our childhood experiences often carry over, influencing how we choose to raise our kids. Sometimes, we emulate the good examples, and other times, we consciously rebel against them. I’ve experienced both sides, and it can be both unsettling and liberating to watch my children engage in activities that were forbidden to me.
This summer, I made a conscious effort to embrace spontaneity. I started saying “yes” to moments that felt freeing. I eased up on my anxiety over trivial matters, such as allowing my kids to enjoy a soda or not insisting on pristine rooms. This shift doesn’t make me a negligent parent; it’s an acknowledgment that I was pushing too hard. My son pointed out that I always seemed to demand perfection, and his observation hit home. I never want my kids to think that chasing perfection is the only way to live. In reality, life is about making mistakes, stumbling, and learning from those experiences. I had become too overbearing in an attempt to control everything.
I was setting rules that, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t matter. Who cares if the beds are unmade or if there’s dust under the sofa? If my kids want to sleep in their clothes to save time in the morning, why should that be a problem? I found myself nagging incessantly, irritated by my own voice: “Go change your clothes.” Seriously, that second outfit is likely to get just as dirty as the first one. “Go clean your fingernails.” Why should I fret over a ten-year-old boy’s dirty nails? That’s a sign he’s been outside, living his adventurous life.
So, I’ve made a conscious effort to back off. My children don’t need me hovering over them all the time, and that doesn’t make me a bad parent. It also doesn’t mean they’re destined to be disrespectful. They are unique individuals and should be allowed to express themselves, even if it involves a little dirt or an accidental belch in public (as long as they say “excuse me,” of course).
Times have changed since my childhood. The old adage that children should be seen and not heard is not just outdated; it’s fundamentally flawed. I understand why my parents were strict—they were raised in a different era. Yet, having moments of strictness while witnessing my kids’ reactions reminded me of how stifling that was for me. I often felt like I wanted to scream out, “Enough is enough!”
I don’t want my children to feel that way constantly. Sure, there will be moments of discipline, but they don’t need to feel burdened by it all the time. I want them to feel empowered to voice their opinions without fearing repercussions. It’s crucial for them to learn about respecting adults while also understanding that not every adult makes the right choices. I want my kids to have the confidence to say no and to seek help when needed, instead of blindly obeying authority figures.
I can still raise respectful, capable adults while giving them the space to grow and explore. I’ve started to care less about the little things. This shift has made our family dynamic much happier—especially for me.
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In summary, I’ve learned that parenting doesn’t have to be about strict rules and perfection. By allowing my children the freedom to be themselves, we’ve all found a happier balance.
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