When Our Kids Get it Wrong – Why Criticism Won’t Work, And What to Do Instead

One of the things that makes parenting so tough is that we don’t always see the effects of what we do straight away. Sometimes, getting it right can look the same as getting it wrong, and other times they can masquerade as each other. Are our boundaries too loose? Too tight? Do our words nurture their growth? Make them question their worth? Is this a time for consequences? Connection? How do I have both? 

As we travel beside them from their childhood to adulthood, there will be many short-term goals, overarched by an all-important long-term one – to help them arrive at adulthood safe, happy, well-adjusted, and well on their way to claiming their place in the world. Along the way, we’ll make plenty of mistakes. We’ll speak when we should stay quiet, stay quiet when we should say plenty, get too distracted, too busy, too exhausted. There will be many times that we get it so exquisitely right, and there’ll be many that we get it spectacularly wrong. As long as these mistakes are balanced with enough love, connection, warmth, and presence, the mistakes we make won’t break them. Sometimes though, the things we do as parents can have long-lasting consequences that we don’t see coming – even when we do them with loving intent.

Our words are powerful. They can light our children up from the inside out or they can land on their shoulders like little spears. When criticism happens too often, those little spears will find their way deep into the core of them. They’ll do damage and they’ll leave scars. This is regardless of how that criticism is wrapped up – whether as discipline, frustration, teaching a lesson, or otherwise. New research explains why.

The research, published in The Journal of Clinical Child and Adolescent Psychology has found that children who have critical parents learn to pay less attention to faces that express any type of emotions, both positive and negative. This limits their capacity to ‘read’ people effectively, a skill that is critical for building and maintaining relationships. It is also important for our own wellbeing, as it shapes the meaning we make about the intentions, needs and wants of others and their feelings towards us. The increased tendency to avoid positive emotion (as well as negative emotion) undermines their capacity to receive positive information. Researchers suggest that this could potentially create a vulnerability to anxiety or depression.  

The researchers suggest that the tendency to avoid paying attention to facial expressions is an adaptive measure – and it makes sense. We are wired to turn towards the things that feel safe, and away from the things that might cause us harm – and anything that makes us feel unsafe, or which calls into question who we are and our inherent ‘good’, counts as harm. The researchers suggest that children who are exposed consistently to criticism develop a greater need to avoid facial expression, as a way to avoid the feelings that come with parental criticism. When children are exposed to consistent criticism, they are primed to expect criticism not only from their parents, but from others as well. 

When our children get it wrong. What to do instead.

Let the focus be on their good, not their deficiencies.

For all children, the first messages about how the world sees them comes from their parents, or whoever is in charge of their primary care. When these messages are presented with compassion and warmth, and when they focus on the child’s potential rather than their deficiencies, children will be more likely to approach the world with a sense of belonging, self-respect and importance. We want that. We want them to soar, and they can’t do that if their hearts are heavy with self-doubt.

We might feel as though we have control and influence when we criticise, but the truth is, it’s an illusion. Criticism drives the need to avoid criticism, and this becomes the primary influencer of behaviour. Sometimes this will lead to good behaviour. Other times it will lead to secrecy and lies. Nobody wants to feel stupid, or bad, or less than, or as though they’ve let down (again) the people they care about. The risk with constant criticism is that children will be more likely to redirect their behaviour to avoid that criticism, rather than because of a more intrinsic sense of the ‘right’ thing to do. 

This doesn’t mean that we always lift them over their mistakes, and out of the way of discomfort. It’s important to let them know when their behaviour could do with some tweaking. Sometimes they will need redirecting towards a healthier way of being. What it means is responding to them with compassion and patience, and in such a way that gives them the space to safely explore the lessons they need to learn, without fracturing their sense of self. It means speaking to them in a way that shines the light on their strengths, rather than their deficiencies. This will also help to keep our connection with them strong, and we want this if want influence. When we have influence, we can use it to impart and strengthen the values on which they will base their decisions and their behaviour. 

Example: ‘I know how hard it is to tell the truth sometimes. It’s especially hard, and especially brave when you’re worried about getting into trouble. I know you’re honest and I know you’ll make the right decision. You’re really great like that. Now, can we talk about what happened?’

Don’t take their behaviour personally. It’s a marathon not a sprint, and they’re doing exactly what they’re meant to be doing – even their mistakes.

It’s so easy to take the behaviour of our children personally. We been beside them, gently steering and influencing them since the beginning of them. What does it mean then, when they’re rude, moody, or when they lash out or push against our boundaries with warrior force and daring? It means they’re normal. It means we’re raising small humans into big ones, and giving them the space to do it their way, to make the mistakes they need to make, to learn the lessons they need to learn. It means they aren’t perfect, which is a relief – perfection comes with way too many problems of its own.

There are precious opportunities for learning in the mistakes our children make, but some of those lessons will take time. Sometimes a long time. We squander those opportunities when we try to direct them through fear. Fear might be a short-term motivator, but it’s quite useless in imparting values and strengthening our influence in the long-term. Our children have a long time to learn the lessons they need to learn. In the meantime, their most valuable compass is us. If we want them to listen to be open to our influence and our guidance, we need to give it in a way that is easy for them to receive, not in a way that makes them want to shut down. 

When we try too hard to control them through criticism or through any other means that fractures their spirit, we lose them. We might force compliance in the moment, but any behaviour that is driven by the need to stay out of trouble will always be more fragile than behaviour that is driven by the need to do the right thing. The more we can let go of the need to be perfect parents, the more we can respond to our children with compassion and wisdom, and in a way that opens up our influence. When we treat them as though they already are the people we want them to be, we give them a powerful lift towards getting there. This doesn’t look like harsh discipline or criticism. It looks like a gentle, affirming conversation which lights the way forward and widens the lens on the good inside them and what they are capable of. And it’s okay if this takes time.

And finally …

When we’re dealing out compassion, we need to serve a healthy dose to ourselves too. We’re human, and being parents doesn’t make us infallible. We’re going to get exhausted, distracted, and frustrated, and sometimes we’ll say the wrong thing. Our children won’t break if we get it wrong sometimes. We’re their heroes, and if they can see us getting it wrong sometimes, it gives them permission to get it wrong sometimes too. We want that. We want them to be brave, and to stretch. We want them to test their limits and ours. And when they stretch too far, which they will, we want them to know that it’s okay, that we’re there, and that none of that takes away from the fact that they’re our heroes too. 

What’s important is that when we make a mistake, we name it, own it and apologise. Then we reconnect. It’s equally important that when they make a mistake, we respond with compassion and warmth and make it about their behaviour, not about who they are. There will be times we need to call their behaviour into question, and give them what they need to learn and grow, but it’s important that this is done in a way that doesn’t cause them to question their inherent worth, and their inherent goodness. Criticism might work better in the short-term, but building strong, healthy, happy humans takes time and there are no shortcuts. By speaking to their strengths, even when they get it wrong, and by doing this with warmth and compassion, we make it safe for them to open up to our influence, explore their behaviour, and discover better ways of being. 

23 Comments

BusyMom

I love your articles; they’re brief, to the point, yet so useful. Whenever I’d have a moment, I’d read them and it’s like healing my inner child. It makes me feel both sad and regret; sad that I could have been a better a parent and regret that I never received any of compassion from both my parents. However, my goal has always been to be the best parent I can be, and I’m able to readjust myself onto that path after reading your articles. It’s a challenge to heal yourself AND heal your child at the same time. But I’m trying.

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Karen Young

I love your insight and your obvious drive to be the very best parent you can be. That is all any of us can do. The rest will come. We are all learning and growing, but the important part is being open to this, and to the information that will nurture each of us in the direction of being the parents we want to be. You are doing this. Keep going. You’re more than ‘trying’, you’re doing it.

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Busymom

Thank you for your encouraging words. You’re right; I’m doing it-on certain days…while other days..? I can only say…I’m doing my best. I love my children very much, but there are times I feel disconnected. With my evolution, I’ve discovered it’s simply a disconnect w my inner child. That’s why reading articles like yours, as well as parenting book(whenever I’m able) is so helpful in reminding me to be present. When I’m present, I’m able to feel love and connect with my children.

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Madhvi V

Karen, I have started using these principles with my son and already seeing his self-esteem grow. I really enjoy reading articles from your site.

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Lisa

I was heavily criticised as a child, what you have written about is quite true. I have two precious boys of my own and desperately trying not to give them the same experiences I had. I’m struggling so much with this, we have had some very stressful circumstances over the past few years with little respite in sight. And now I find myself talking to my kids the same way I was spoken to, and the fruits of that starting to show. I’m failing in this area in so many ways….

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BusyMom

I’ve found myself in the same situation and often felt helpless; however, there is healing in sight. What helped me is to heal that little girl within first, and then you’re able to be more empathetic with others. My children are growing up and it’s what motivated me to search within instead of being weighed down with guilt. One day at a time…and every little improvement is a huge milestone! You can do it!

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Ranelle K

Thank you! Excellent article. I have a 14 year old son, need more articles like this one please!

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Alisha S

Just about every time you write Karen it is amazing. Articles like this one inspire. As a school social worker I often send your articles out to particular parents, this one will also be incredibly helpful.
Thank you again.
Alisha

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Nim

Great article – tahnk you. I’m going to print it out and show it to my father. Fear and control were his parenting go-tos, and he finds it hard to accept that I want to work WITH my child to teach him about good, kind behaviour rather than intimidate him into compliance.

My son is a brave, kind, sociable little person. He doesn’t always do the right thing, of course – who does? – but I’m extremely proud of who he is and the way he chooses to express himself, and I’m proud of myself for not criticising him into good behaviour.

When you’ve only been on the planet for a few years, it’s normal that mistakes are made. Plenty of people who’ve been around a lot longer are still making them!

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When things feel hard or the world feels big, children will be looking to their important adults for signs of safety. They will be asking, ‘Do you think I'm safe?' 'Do you think I can do this?' With everything in us, we have to send the message, ‘Yes! Yes love, this is hard and you are safe. You can do hard things.'

Even if we believe they are up to the challenge, it can be difficult to communicate this with absolute confidence. We love them, and when they're distressed, we're going to feel it. Inadvertently, we can align with their fear and send signals of danger, especially through nonverbals. 

What they need is for us to align with their 'brave' - that part of them that wants to do hard things and has the courage to do them. It might be small but it will be there. Like a muscle, courage strengthens with use - little by little, but the potential is always there.

First, let them feel you inside their world, not outside of it. This lets their anxious brain know that support is here - that you see what they see and you get it. This happens through validation. It doesn't mean you agree. It means that you see what they see, and feel what they feel. Meet the intensity of their emotion, so they can feel you with them. It can come off as insincere if your nonverbals are overly calm in the face of their distress. (Think a zen-like low, monotone voice and neutral face - both can be read as threat by an anxious brain). Try:

'This is big for you isn't it!' 
'It's awful having to do things you haven't done before. What you are feeling makes so much sense. I'd feel the same!

Once they really feel you there with them, then they can trust what comes next, which is your felt belief that they will be safe, and that they can do hard things. 

Even if things don't go to plan, you know they will cope. This can be hard, especially because it is so easy to 'catch' their anxiety. When it feels like anxiety is drawing you both in, take a moment, breathe, and ask, 'Do I believe in them, or their anxiety?' Let your answer guide you, because you know your young one was built for big, beautiful things. It's in them. Anxiety is part of their move towards brave, not the end of it.
Sometimes we all just need space to talk to someone who will listen without giving advice, or problem solving, or lecturing. Someone who will let us talk, and who can handle our experiences and words and feelings without having to smooth out the wrinkles or tidy the frayed edges. 

Our kids need this too, but as their important adults, it can be hard to hush without needing to fix things, or gather up their experience and bundle it into a learning that will grow them. We do this because we love them, but it can also mean that they choose not to let us in for the wrong reasons. 

We can’t help them if we don’t know what’s happening in their world, and entry will be on their terms - even more as they get older. As they grow, they won’t trust us with the big things if we don’t give them the opportunity to learn that we can handle the little things (which might feel seismic to them). They won’t let us in to their world unless we make it safe for them to.

When my own kids were small, we had a rule that when I picked them up from school they could tell me anything, and when we drove into the driveway, the conversation would be finished if they wanted it to be. They only put this rule into play a few times, but it was enough for them to learn that it was safe to talk about anything, and for me to hear what was happening in that part of their world that happened without me. My gosh though, there were times that the end of the conversation would be jarring and breathtaking and so unfinished for me, but every time they would come back when they were ready and we would finish the chat. As it turned out, I had to trust them as much as I wanted them to trust me. But that’s how parenting is really isn’t it.

Of course there will always be lessons in their experiences we will want to hear straight up, but we also need them to learn that we are safe to come to.  We need them to know that there isn’t anything about them or their life we can’t handle, and when the world feels hard or uncertain, it’s safe here. By building safety, we build our connection and influence. It’s just how it seems to work.♥️
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#parenting #parenthood #mindfulparenting
Words can be hard sometimes. The right words can be orbital and unconquerable and hard to grab hold of. Feelings though - they’ll always make themselves known, with or without the ‘why’. 

Kids and teens are no different to the rest of us. Their feelings can feel bigger than words - unfathomable and messy and too much to be lassoed into language. If we tap into our own experience, we can sometimes (not all the time) get an idea of what they might need. 

It’s completely understandable that new things or hard things (such as going back to school) might drive thoughts of falls and fails and missteps. When this happens, it’s not so much the hard thing or the new thing that drives avoidance, but thoughts of failing or not being good enough. The more meaningful the ‘thing’ is, the more this is likely to happen. If you can look behind the words, and through to the intention - to avoid failure more than the new or difficult experience, it can be easier to give them what they need. 

Often, ‘I can’t’ means, ‘What if I can’t?’ or, ‘Do you think I can?’, or, ‘Will you still think I’m brave, strong, and capable of I fail?’ They need to know that the outcome won’t make any difference at all to how much you adore them, and how capable and exceptional you think they are. By focusing on process, (the courage to give it a go), we clear the runway so they can feel safer to crawl, then walk, then run, then fly. 

It takes time to reach full flight in anything, but in the meantime the stumbling can make even the strongest of hearts feel vulnerable. The more we focus on process over outcome (their courage to try over the result), and who they are over what they do (their courage, tenacity, curiosity over the outcome), the safer they will feel to try new things or hard things. We know they can do hard things, and the beauty and expansion comes first in the willingness to try. 
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#parenting #mindfulparenting #positiveparenting #mindfulparent
Never in the history of forever has there been such a  lavish opportunity for a year to be better than the last. Not to be grabby, but you know what I’d love this year? Less opportunities that come in the name of ‘resilience’. I’m ready for joy, or adventure, or connection, or gratitude, or courage - anything else but resilience really. Opportunities for resilience have a place, but 2020 has been relentless with its servings, and it’s time for an out breath. Here’s hoping 2021 will be a year that wraps its loving arms around us. I’m ready for that. x
The holidays are a wonderland of everything that can lead to hyped up, exhausted, cranky, excited, happy kids (and adults). Sometimes they’ll cycle through all of these within ten minutes. Sugar will constantly pry their little mouths wide open and jump inside, routines will laugh at you from a distance, there will be gatherings and parties, and everything will feel a little bit different to usual. And a bit like magic. 

Know that whatever happens, it’s all part of what the holidays are meant to look like. They aren’t meant to be pristine and orderly and exactly as planned. They were never meant to be that. Christmas is about people, your favourite ones, not tasks. If focusing on the people means some of the tasks fall down, let that be okay, because that’s what Christmas is. It’s about you and your people. It’s not about proving your parenting stamina, or that you’ve raised perfectly well-behaved humans, or that your family can polish up like the catalog ones any day of the week, or that you can create restaurant quality meals and decorate the table like you were born doing it. Christmas is messy and ridiculous and exhausting and there will be plenty of frayed edges. And plenty of magic. The magic will happen the way it always happens. Not with the decorations or the trimmings or the food or the polish, but by being with the ones you love, and the ones who love you right back.

When it all starts to feel too important, too necessary and too ‘un-let-go-able’, be guided by the bigger truth, which is that more than anything, you will all remember how you all felt – as in how happy they felt, how loved they felt were, how noticed they felt. They won’t care about the instagram-worthy meals on the table, the cleanliness of the floors, how many relatives they visited, or how impressed other grown-ups were with their clean faces and darling smiles. It’s easy to forget sometimes, that what matters most at Christmas isn’t the tasks, but the people – the ones who would give up pretty much anything just to have the day with you.

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