Everything I went through as a child feeds into my adult life today – who I am as a person, as a mum, as an employee, as a friend. The list goes on. Our childhood doesn’t stay in childhood. It comes with us, quietly shaping how we respond to stress, how we handle conflict, how we love, and how we parent. And if I’m honest, I wish children’s mental health had been taken more seriously back then.
There was a time when big emotions were brushed off. When sensitive children were told they were dramatic. When needing reassurance was seen as being clingy. When a child struggling to adjust was labelled “spoiled” or “naughty” instead of a little overwhelmed or tired.
Now, as a parent, I see it so differently.
Today, if my child is struggling with a change, I don’t see it as bad behaviour. I see it as a little nervous system trying to find its footing. If my child needs a minute to come around instead of being shouted at, that isn’t weakness. That’s growth. That’s emotional safety. That’s learning how to regulate instead of repress.
Don’t get me wrong – I am not a perfect parent. There are days when I lose my patience. Days when everything boils over at once. The noise, the mess, the endless questions, the mental load – it builds. And sometimes my tone isn’t what it should be.
But here’s something I’ve learned – repair matters more than perfection. If I snap, I apologise.
“I’m sorry” is only two words. It isn’t difficult to say. But to a child, it’s powerful. It shows them that adults make mistakes too. It shows them that love isn’t withdrawn when things go wrong. It teaches them accountability. That’s something many of us didn’t grow up with.
Twice this week, someone has told me, “Your son is a credit to you.” And they’re right – but not for the reasons people might assume.
I get so lost in the tougher moments that I forget to zoom out. I focus on the meltdowns, the resistance, the tiredness, the days that feel long. But when someone reflects back the bigger picture, it brings me back to what I know deep down. And that’s about my eldest boy in particularly right now, who makes progress every day. His politeness shines. He is kind. He is thoughtful. He is a happy, friendly person. It’s okay that he can be a little sensitive too – I am too.
A sensitive little soul – just like me.
For a long time, I thought sensitivity was something to grow out of. Something to toughen up against. But now I see it as a strength. Sensitivity is empathy. It’s emotional intelligence. It’s noticing when someone else is hurting. It’s caring deeply but as I’ve gotten older I question if I care too much for things I don’t have the mental capacity for.
When we take children’s mental health seriously, we aren’t “raising soft kids.” We are raising emotionally aware little humans. We are breaking cycles of silence, especially that it can’t be talked about. We are teaching our children that feelings aren’t flaws – they are signals.
The world will eventually teach our children resilience. It will test them, stretch them, challenge them. Home doesn’t need to be another battleground. Home can be the safe place where feelings are named, validated, and worked through.
Everything I went through as a child shaped me. And everything I choose to do differently now is shaping them.
If you are the parent who apologises… If you are the parent who pauses instead of shouts (even if not every time)… If you are the parent who worries about doing better… You are already changing the narrative. And that matters more than you know.




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