15 August 2025
We’ve all said it — maybe in a rush, or maybe trying to be hopeful:
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“When I was your age, we just dealt with it.”
While those words might roll off the tongue with loving intention, they can land like a thud in a child’s heart. Especially when they’re hurting.
Parenting is a wild ride — messy, magical, and filled with moments where we just do what we can and hope it's enough. But one thing that can quietly unravel the fabric of connection between a parent and child is brushing off those struggles. Big or small, emotional or academic, physical or social — they matter. And ignoring them? Yeah, that carries weight.
Let’s unpack why downplaying your child’s pain might be doing more damage than good, and how tuning in—really listening—can change everything.
It’s a defense mechanism — not to hurt them, but to protect them. And frankly, to protect ourselves from the weight of it all. I mean, if we admit they’re struggling, then that means something’s wrong, right?
But here’s the thing: downplaying isn’t just failing to validate — it's unintentionally silencing.
Imagine being in the middle of a thunderstorm and someone says, “It’s just a little rain.” You’d still be soaking wet, cold, and scared — and now no one believes you're shivering.
That’s how a child feels when their struggles are dismissed.
When we dismiss their feelings, they start to wonder:
“Is something wrong with me for feeling this way?”
“Maybe I just need to hide it better.”
“I guess no one really gets me.”
And let me tell you — that self-doubt? It sticks like gum to a shoe.
Children are sponges, absorbing the obvious and the subtle. If we repeatedly tell them their struggles aren’t that serious, they’ll begin to believe their feelings don’t matter. And once they believe that, they stop expressing them.
That internalized silence becomes anxiety’s playground.
Depression’s welcome mat.
And loneliness’s best friend.
Now imagine calling them in crisis, and they say, “You’re overreacting.” Ouch, right?
When we downplay our kids’ struggles, we chip away at trust.
And trust? That’s the glue of the parent-child bond.
It’s what makes your child feel safe coming to you when the stakes get higher — when the heartbreaks are deeper, when the mistakes are bigger, when the consequences are scarier.
If they can’t count on you to care about the little things, why would they bring the big ones?
Nah, they show it through meltdowns. Or zoning out in class. Or acting out at home. Or withdrawing into screens.
That’s why a kid “acting difficult” is often a kid “feeling overwhelmed.”
We have to tune in to the behavior beneath the behavior. Like decoding a mystery novel where the plot is written in sighs, slamming doors, and overused headphones.
Sound familiar?
Academic struggles are often dismissed because we equate intelligence with performance. But what about dyslexia? ADHD? Executive function issues? Test anxiety?
When we wave away their pain with a casual “you’ll figure it out,” we tell them that struggling is a flaw, not a signal.
And that’s dangerous — because the fear of failing turns into a fear of trying.
Not guilt. Guilt says, “I did something bad.”
Shame says, “I am something bad.”
When a child struggles, and their struggle is minimized or ignored, they don’t stop feeling — they internalize it.
Every time we say, “It’s not that serious,” they hear, “Something must be wrong with me for feeling like it is.”
And shame doesn’t just affect emotional health — it impacts identity, confidence, resilience... everything.
How do we hold space for our child’s struggle without falling into a pit of panic or overreaction?
Here’s the good news: You don’t need to have all the answers. You just need to show up — fully present, emotionally available, judgment-free.
Try this:
- “That sounds really hard. Do you want to talk about it?”
- “I’m here for you, no matter what.”
- “You’re not alone. We’re in this together.”
Simple. Grounded. Healing.
That’s not how emotions work.
Validation is like turning on the light in a dark room. You don’t remove the darkness — you guide them through it.
It’s not about indulging every whim or coddling them into fragility. It’s about recognizing that their emotions are real, important, and worthy of space.
And once they feel heard? That’s when they start to heal.
They may struggle with:
- Self-expression
- Setting boundaries
- Trusting others
- Emotional regulation
- Seeking help when needed
They become adults who minimize their own pain, who say “I’m fine” when they’re anything but, and who silently carry burdens they never learned to share.
And isn’t our ultimate goal as parents to raise emotionally healthy, connected, and resilient humans?
That starts with listening. Not just with ears — with hearts.
So if validating your child’s emotions feels foreign or awkward, it’s okay. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just breaking cycles — and that takes guts.
The truth is, building emotional resilience isn’t about shielding our children from pain — it’s teaching them how to move through it.
And healing doesn’t look like pretending the wound isn’t there. It looks like sitting with them while they cry, showing them how to breathe through big feelings, and reminding them — over and over — that they're never alone.
Exactly as they are. Messy, struggling, growing, figuring-it-out.
So next time you’re tempted to say, “It’s not that big of a deal,” take a breath.
Look them in the eyes.
Hear the story behind their tears.
Then say:
“I believe you.”
Because the risks of downplaying your child’s struggles?
They’re real. But so is the power of being present.
And that’s something they’ll carry with them forever.
all images in this post were generated using AI tools
Category:
Parenting MistakesAuthor:
Austin Wilcox