I wish that children were born with a how-to-manual. As a first-time parent, I was full of hope, and I strove to do my best to raise my precious child. I tried to control everything in her environment; she only ate healthy, homemade foods, she had structure and routine, everything was sterilized, and nothing was short of pure perfection.
I was hopeful, but my efforts went down the drain as my precautions didn’t protect her from catching a cold or falling and cutting her eyelid open. I exhausted all my resources parenting my child, and I thought I could never do it all over again.
Then, my second child was born a totally different breed. Where is that manual? Can I even parent this one? Nothing is working with her. She is parenting me instead.
She ate junk food and rejected all efforts to maintain structure and routine. She was untamable, and we let her be. I thought it best to let her be parented in a way that “works” with her. At the time, this method already had a name: “Gentle Parenting.”
While guilt, shame, and self-blame have no place in my relationship with my firstborn, my relationship with my secondborn is full of them. Gentle Parenting is to blame. I allowed more freedom, misbehavior, and meltdowns to take their course. I gave excuses and explanations for such behavior and acknowledged and validated her feelings.
I intervened and jumped in to fix all her problems. I gave without limits or regard for how I felt. I showered her with praise and rewards for every little perceived achievement, and she got used to instant gratification. I thought I was being a loving and supportive mom. Indeed, I shouldn’t feel any guilt or shame, right? On the contrary, I felt only guilt and shame. Parenting that way was a grave mistake.
My secondborn developed an excessive dependency on me, and she has a hard time regulating her emotions. She is defiant, argumentative, and less respectful than her siblings.
More recently, she became indifferent towards her education and extracurricular activities. She had no issue failing multiple classes. “I don’t like this subject, so I won’t even bother,” were her exact words about one subject. She had never faced serious, consistent discipline or consequences, so why would she face them now?
We had to draw the line, and failing was not an option. I had to reevaluate my parenting style, and through much reflection, I realized that Gentle Parenting was not working. My daughter needed some Tough Love.
The other day, I sat her down for what I thought would be a difficult conversation. I had to set an ultimatum regarding her numerous missing assignments and ignored chores. I gave her two options, and she made the obvious choice.
If she fails, she will face a more severe form of the option she avoided. To my dismay, she smiled and admired my elaborate plan. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?” she said with a wide smile. “Yup, I sure did. You don’t like it, of course,” I said.
She replied, “I love it!” I was confused, to say the least. But days later, it proved to be a good plan, and she made sure to follow through and not blow it for herself. I realized I was beginning to find the manual for that unruly child.
Sometimes, Tough Love is needed, especially with challenging behaviors. Sometimes, children crave boundaries and authority; I will not feel guilty about that.
Like the concept of Toxic Charity, there are five downward steps to dependency. First, you create appreciation, then anticipation, expectation, entitlement, and finally dependency. Giving your child unconditional emotional support, love, or materialistic gifts creates dependency. Children must earn those gifts, or they will be meaningless and taken for granted.
Of course, every child and parent is different, and you have to find what works for you. But what I have found after almost thirteen years of failed Gentle Parenting is that it was taxing on me and damaging to my child’s mental health, social skills, and even academic performance.
It’s never too late to change course and add some Tough Love.
