They’re sprawled out on the living room floor, constructing towers from bright yellow blocks, transforming them into imaginary lightsabers. Moments later, they grab colorful markers and a notebook, crafting treasure maps that lead to the hidden corners of their closet. Next, they shift to the kitchen, dive into dress-up, or retreat into their fort, their imaginations conjuring up adventures meant only for them.
I observe them for a while, feeling awe at their creativity and the skills they possess. It astounds me that they can engage in play for minutes without squabbling or succumbing to tears, even though just seconds earlier, they were pleading, “Mommy, pleeeaaaase, I’m starving!”
I pick up their notebook, filled with drawings of our family, the playground, and even whimsical polka dots. As I flip through the pages, I spot our names, each one written in the wobbly, oversized letters characteristic of a child learning to write.
When did this occur? When did the little one who once grew inside me learn to form letters, color within the lines, show kindness, and leap from three steps up?
I find myself in a state of wonder, completely overwhelmed with love for my child. So, I say to her, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you! You’re so strong, brave, and you’ve worked hard to learn your letters.”
But then I pause. Should I really be saying this? Doesn’t research suggest that today’s kids are often overvalued, overprotected, and sheltered from disappointment? That they shouldn’t receive trophies just for showing up? Do I have the right to tell my daughter I’m proud of her even when she hasn’t done anything to earn it? That I love her simply for who she is?
And it doesn’t stop there. I go on to tell her she is beautiful, that her body is perfect as it is. I express how much I adore the art she’s created. I tell her she’s important, brave, and capable of achieving anything she desires—never forget that.
Of course, we balance this with lessons on effort, celebrating the achievements of others, and sharing how hard her dad and I have worked. We encourage her to keep trying, practicing, and persevering. There are consequences in our home, and yes, meltdowns do happen. My children are perfectly average in the most wonderful ways.
But our time together is limited. There are only so many years when my voice will hold more weight than their friends, social media, or the world at large. I cling to this precious time, seizing every chance to affirm their worth, remind them their bodies are just right, and that they are beautiful, creative, and strong.
I tell them what I know to be true, so they won’t question their value when confronted with outside voices. The truth is, the world will try to convince them otherwise. Media will suggest they need to conform to a certain size; peers will dictate how they should dress, and others will pressure them to behave in specific ways. So many voices will attempt to undermine their self-worth.
I want my children to be absolutely certain of their value and significance, to believe in their beauty without hesitation. I want them to dismiss the negativity that surrounds them and to feel confident in their own skin.
There’s a clear distinction between fostering a belief that they are superior to others and simply ensuring they know they are loved unconditionally. These formative years are our chance to provide them with a strong foundation—celebrating them, nurturing them, and preparing them to navigate the world.
And when they eventually achieve what we always believed they could, I’ll be there to say, “See, kiddo, I knew you had it in you!”
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In summary, as a parent, I strive to instill a profound sense of self-worth and affirmation in my children. These early years are vital for building their confidence and anchoring them in love, preparing them to face a world that may challenge their self-esteem.