1 week Ago By Guest Author
Representational PhotoBy Malik Daniyal ShabirWhat if everything a child becomes begins in the quiet corners of a home? Not in the big decisions, but in how a parent looks up when a child enters the room. In the pauses between words. In how arguments end, or don’t.
We like to think children grow up by themselves. That they figure things out as they go. But the truth is, they watch us.
Closely. And they remember more than we think.Some things are passed down on purpose: bedtime routines, family recipes, the right way to say thank you.
But most things come through without notice. A raised voice. A distracted nod.
A silence that lasts too long. Parents often raise children the only way they know: by repeating what they saw, what they heard, what once shaped them. They don’t always stop to ask if those ways still make sense.
In many homes, emotions are things to manage, not understand. A child says they’re sad, and someone tells them to be strong. A teenager admits to feeling anxious, and the reply comes quickly: don’t overthink.
Somewhere between generations, a language is lost. The one where feelings are allowed to be spoken without being fixed. Where listening matters more than reacting.
This isn’t a fault, exactly. Most parents don’t mean harm. They do what they can with what they’ve known.
But intention is not always enough. A child can be loved deeply and still feel alone. They can be praised and still feel like they are not enough.
Children learn early how to read a room, how to keep the peace, how to shrink their needs so that no one gets upset.They grow up and carry those habits into other places. Into relationships, into work, into friendships.
They become adults who say sorry too quickly. Who smile when they want to scream. Who feel guilty for asking for help.
Not because they were treated badly, but because they were taught to disappear quietly in the name of being good.It doesn’t have to be this way. Children who are allowed to speak without being shushed grow into people who speak clearly.
Children who are believed learn to trust themselves. They know what safety feels like. Not just physical safety, but the kind that comes from knowing that their thoughts won’t be laughed at or brushed aside.
Parenting, when it works, is not about control. It’s not about creating a miniature version of yourself. It’s about being still enough to see the person your child is becoming, and brave enough to let them become it.
But it’s hard. It happens in the middle of life, between school drop-offs and dinner, between bills and bad days. Most parents are tired.
Most are trying. Still, the small moments matter more than anyone admits. Sitting beside a child who’s had a rough day.
Asking questions without rushing the answers. Letting them fail without shame. These moments are quiet, but they are the ones that stay.
And sometimes the hardest part is changing your own story. Noticing how you were raised, and deciding to do something different. Saying, “I was wrong.
” Saying, “I didn’t know better, but I want to now.” These are not easy things. But they are the beginning of something better.
We don’t need perfect parents. We need honest ones. We need people willing to pause, to listen, to try again when they get it wrong.
Because parenting is not about getting it right the first time. It’s about building trust that can survive the hard days. It’s about raising children who won’t spend their adulthood unlearning what childhood taught them.
The past is always present, in some form. But it doesn’t have to be a trap. It can be a place to begin.
To notice. To change. To ask quietly, What am I passing on? And is it something worth carrying?A child doesn’t need a flawless home.
They need a place where they are allowed to be themselves without fear. They need to feel like their presence is not a burden. That their voice has weight.
That their heart is safe.Maybe that’s where better futures begin. Not in rules, but in rooms where children are seen.
In homes where love is not just felt, but shown. In lives where we raise them with open eyes and open hands. Not to repeat us.
But to become themselves, fully and without apology.Malik Daniyal Shabir is an Undergraduate Student, University Of Delhi..
