top of page

Parenting Differently Than We Were Parented: Why It’s Hard, and Why It’s Worth It

Dr. Deb Zupito


ree

If you grew up in a time when children were expected to be seen, not heard, you know the drill. Tears were met with “I’ll give you something to cry about.” Sadness was brushed off with “Don’t be sad, you have everything you need.” Many of us learned early that big feelings were problems to fix, not languages to understand.


We carry that training into adulthood, then we meet today’s children, wonderfully, inconveniently expressive. And here is the rub, it’s not their fault our nervous systems twitch. Much of what gets triggered in us has little to do with the child in front of us, and everything to do with the child we used to be.


The Moment That Says It All

I saw this play out at a café last week. A preschooler received a blueberry muffin with, scandal of scandals, visible blueberries. He froze, bottom lip quivered, and then came the wail, a tragic opera of pastry preference. His grown-up sighed, shoulders tightening. I could almost hear the old script loading, the one that starts with “This is nothing to cry about” and ends with a side of shame.

To their credit, they paused. They took a breath, crouched down, and said, “You really wanted the plain one. That’s disappointing.” Ten seconds later, the storm passed. No lecture. No power struggle. Just co-regulation and a quick redo at the counter. The child learned that feelings are safe, and the adult quietly unlearned a message many of us were taught, that feelings are a nuisance at best, a punishable offense at worst.


Why This Matters

When our inner alarms go off, we are often reacting to yesterday, not today. Shame and blame taught many of us to doubt our needs, to tuck away anger, and to apologize for sadness. If we do not notice that inheritance, we hand it to our kids with a fresh bow. Breaking the cycle starts with a simple question in heated moments: Is this about the child, or is this about me? That single line creates a gap wide enough for compassion to walk through.


A Funny, Too Real Story You Have Probably Seen

At the park, a little boy was told it was time to go. He calmly replied, “No.” His caregiver tried again. Another “No.” Finally, they pulled out the classic, “Okay, I am leaving,” and took a few steps toward the gate. Without missing a beat, the boy shouted, “Bye!” and went right back to playing.

It was one of those moments that is both hilarious and revealing. The adult’s old “make them follow” script clashed with a child’s perfectly normal wish to stay in their happy place. When the grown-up realized it was not defiance but a request for more time, they walked back, connected, and made a new plan together.


A Quick, Clever Tip for Next Time

When you feel the old script revving, silently name your part, “Ah, I am playing the Role of The Minimizer.” Then switch roles on purpose to “Curious Scientist.” Replace judgment with curiosity: “What is the hardest part about this muffin, these blueberries, this goodbye?” That tiny shift moves you from reactivity to relationship.


What We Are Really Teaching Our Little Ones

We are not just managing moments, we are shaping meaning. When we meet feelings with presence instead of shame, children learn:• Feelings are information, not emergencies.• Needs can be voiced and met with respect.• Repair is normal, not rare.

And we learn something too, that our own feelings were never the enemy, they were signals waiting for a safe listener.

ree

Final Word

Parenting and caregiving differently than we were parented is courageous work. It is slower, kinder, and yes, sometimes messier. But the payoff is enormous. Children who feel seen do not have to shout to be heard, and adults who can pause do not have to pass along the shame and blame they inherited. We can end the story we were given and start the one our little ones deserve.

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page