Let’s be honest: many parents today have lost some of their authority. Not because they don’t love their children, nor because they are less involved than previous generations, but because they often find themselves helpless in the face of the intensity of their little ones’ demands, emotions, and reactions. In our desire to do the right thing and to avoid repeating the harshness of the past, we have sometimes fallen into the opposite extreme: where the child ends up leading the parent by the nose.
Of course, our grandparents were often too strict. They could be unfair, cold, sometimes even brutal in their discipline. This form of parenting has left its mark, and it’s fortunate that our era has developed more listening skills, empathy, and respect for a child’s emotional world. But in this positive movement, something has sometimes gone awry. For fear of being too harsh, we’ve stopped being firm. For fear of hurting, we’ve given up on setting clear boundaries. For fear of losing our children’s love, we’ve started giving in too often.
The result is clear: exhausted, mentally drained, sometimes even overwhelmed, mothers and fathers who give all their time, energy, and patience, to the point of neglecting themselves. And when this fatigue becomes too much, the instinctive reaction isn’t always presence, but avoidance. They escape into work, conflict, screens, sometimes alcohol, or other forms of emotional numbness. Yet, children don’t need a parent who collapses in silence. They need an adult who remains present, stable, gentle, and capable of providing solid structure.
How is it that we are sometimes so exhausted with just one or two children when our ancestors raised many more? The answer lies not only in the pace of modern life. It also lies in our relationship to authority, mental fatigue, guilt, and the fear of being perceived as unfair. We live in an era where positive parenting, listening to emotions, and respecting the child have become essential—and that’s a good thing. But when these principles are misunderstood, they can serve to mask our own insecurities, our lack of confidence in our parental authority, and sometimes our difficulty in setting boundaries without feeling guilty.
Being a parent isn’t just about loving. It’s also about guiding. It’s about knowing how to say no. It’s about knowing when to stop unacceptable behavior. It’s about being able to support a child through their frustration without being overwhelmed by it. And perhaps this is where the greatest challenge of our generation lies: learning to be a strong presence without becoming rigid, and a tender presence without becoming weak.
I observed this very closely recently. A new neighbor came to pick up her children after an afternoon spent at home. She had just arrived from work, had only had a few minutes to relax, had even brought her tea from a thermos to save time, and yet, when she asked her daughters to come inside because it was time, the two girls told her no. Without even turning around. They continued playing as if her injunction meant nothing. Then they negotiated for another ten minutes, then another five, then another two. The mother, clearly uncomfortable, stood there in the home of someone she barely knew, unable to set a clear boundary. Finally, I had to help her gather the girls.
At another point, while I was absentmindedly rolling a toy between my hands as we chatted, one of the little girls climbed onto the sofa and roughly snatched it from me. Her mother vaguely reprimanded her from a distance, but didn’t follow through with the discipline. What would have been helpful in this particular case wasn’t just saying “that’s not good,” but going back to where the child had wandered, calmly taking the toy back, giving it back to me, making her understand that you don’t snatch from someone else without asking, and showing her concretely how to make a request politely. The problem is that the mother herself doesn’t make her own limits respected when the little girl presses balloons or toys on her face? There is never any clear STOP when it is necessary.
These are ordinary scenes. Almost everyday occurrences. And yet, they are the ones that shape character, relationships with others, and the understanding of respect, frustration, and keeping one’s word. At four or six years old, it’s the perfect time to teach a child how to behave with others, how to listen to an adult, how to respect boundaries, how to ask without imposing. Doing so isn’t being harsh; it’s giving them a compass.
If we don’t correct bad behavior as it happens, the child doesn’t understand what is expected of them, doesn’t grasp the rules, and only learns that they can persist, test boundaries, and push the limits. And the more these behaviors are tolerated, the more ingrained they become. Then, parents are surprised when the child stops listening, talks back, shouts, hits, or refuses everything by age 8 or 9. But learning respect doesn’t happen by magic: it’s built, patiently, in everyday life.
I know this because I’ve been in that parent situation too. We don’t always act because we lack self-confidence. Very often, we fear conflict, because it’s easier to give in than to confront. There’s also a deeper, more intimate doubt: the doubt about our right to be firm. We’ve sometimes internalized the idea that firmness is necessarily synonymous with meanness, violence, or a lack of compassion. So, to avoid feeling guilty, we let it go.
But firmness doesn’t have to be harshness; on the contrary, it has to be clarity. It’s the ability to say what is acceptable and what isn’t, without humiliating, without shouting, without crushing. It’s a protective gesture. It’s a way of loving that shapes the child’s world. Because a child needs to feel that there are adults who know, who stand firm and who don’t waver at the slightest pressure.
This is where a subtle process of self-knowledge becomes essential. Because it is not enough to want to do well: one must also learn to know oneself well enough not to react from anger or impatience.The energy and tone with which we react makes all the difference in how they receive instruction.When we lose our temper, our tone becomes hurtful. When our words become emotionally charged, the child no longer receives clear instruction; instead, they receive an emotional blow that strikes where they are most vulnerable. They no longer understand what they need to correct; they only feel that they are at fault, that they are a nuisance, or that they are unloved.
Conversely, when we learn to recognize our feminine essence, to accept our imperfections and weaknesses, to nurture our self-esteem, listen to and understand our emotions, we can instinctively recognize what is right for our child in any circumstance, we can be firm without being aggressive, we can remind them of a rule without turning every correction into a drama.
There is also another essential aspect: respecting our own boundaries. Many mothers set rules for their children but struggle to set them for themselves. They accept constant interruptions, harsh words, tantrums, shouting, and sometimes even rough handling or physical abuse. They let it slide because they lack even the most basic self-esteem. Yet, a child who can hit their mother learns something profoundly confusing about strength, dignity, and respect.
Being firm with your child is therefore not a failure of tenderness, but rather a way to make tenderness effective. Gentleness alone, without structure, quickly turns into confusion. Firmness alone, without warmth, becomes harshness. The art of parenting lies in uniting the two: unconditional presence with a solid framework, a clear boundary followed by calm authority. This can be achieved when our own mind is clear.
Helping our children, in reality, is helping ourselves. It’s developing the clarity of mind that allows us to see the right response, not only for them, but also for ourselves and for everyone who shares our living space. It’s accepting that authority is not power over the child, but a structuring action for them. It’s understanding that being able to say no and stand firm, to fully demonstrate respect, at the right time, with fairness, is one of the greatest proofs of love.