Stop Telling Them What to Think: Why Your Child Isn’t Opening Up Anymore.

6 May

There’s a silent heartbreak happening in many homes, and it begins with a sentence that seems harmless: “That’s not how it is.”

It happens when our child brings up something personal—about their body, their feelings, their curiosity—and we meet it not with curiosity, but correction.

As parents, we believe we’re guiding them. That we’re protecting them. But in reality, we’re closing a door. Not just to a conversation—but to connection. Every time we tell them what’s right to think, what’s too early to feel, or what’s appropriate to say—we teach them one thing: your inner world is not safe here.

And when their inner world doesn’t feel safe with us, they stop showing it to us.

The Silent Shift in Communication

It starts quietly. A child asks a question about a body part they heard in class. Or they mention someone they find attractive. Or they express confusion, discomfort, or even fascination about what they’re learning during puberty.

And what do we do?

We freeze. We panic. We shift into “instructive” mode.
We say things like:
“You shouldn’t be thinking about that yet.”
“That’s not something nice kids talk about.”
“Don’t say that again.”

And just like that, a bridge begins to collapse. Not dramatically, not loudly—but slowly, with each reaction that says: Your thoughts are not welcome. Your feelings are wrong.

Children don’t respond with confrontation. They respond with silence. They stop asking. They stop telling. And eventually, we stop knowing them.

Why Listening Matters More Than Directing

Children don’t come to us hoping for lectures. They come hoping to be understood. They come to share, to make sense of their experiences, to be mirrored—not molded.

But instead of listening, we often jump in with our beliefs, our discomforts, our fears.
We try to correct their perspective before we’ve even heard it.

When your child says something that scares you or challenges your comfort zone, that’s not a sign to take control. It’s a sign to sit still. To breathe. To listen.

Because the moment you jump in with “how it should be,” you take away their ability to discover who they are. You replace their voice with yours. And they’ll begin to believe that only your version of reality is acceptable.

The Long-Term Impact of Imposed Thinking

Many parents pride themselves on how well they’ve “educated” their kids. But what if all you did was train them to agree with you—on the surface?

What if behind the “well-raised” child is a silent one? One who smiles in front of you but is terrified to bring their real thoughts, feelings, and mistakes into the light?

You don’t just raise a child’s behaviour. You raise their inner voice. And when that inner voice has been constantly corrected, silenced, or reshaped—it stops being theirs. It becomes cautious, anxious, and disconnected. Later in adolescence, you won’t know what’s going on—not because they’re secretive, but because you’ve taught them that being open isn’t safe.

This is how trust erodes. This is how communication dies. And this is how loneliness is born—in the very places meant to feel like home.

The Psychological Impact: When Love Feels Like Silence

When a child opens up—about their body, their feelings, their confusion—and the response they receive is correction instead of curiosity, something deeper happens beneath the surface. It's not just disappointment. It’s identity-shaping.

The developing mind is wired to seek safety, connection, and validation. And when a parent dismisses, redirects, or disapproves of what the child shares, the child doesn't just adjust their behaviour.

Over time, the messages become internalised:

“My thoughts are wrong.”
“My body is shameful.”
“What I feel shouldn't be felt.”
“To be loved, I must hide parts of me.”

And this isn’t just emotional—it’s neurological.
Children begin to associate emotional expression with risk. Their brain learns to suppress natural impulses, disconnect from vulnerability, and choose compliance over authenticity.

The long-term impact?

Emotional suppression that can show up as anxiety, numbness, or explosive outbursts later.
Self-doubt that paralyses their ability to make decisions or trust themselves.
Shame woven into the most human parts of their experience: curiosity, pleasure, fear, and longing.
Distance from parents, where secrets grow because they’ve learned what’s acceptable, and what needs to stay hidden—even at home.

And here’s the heartbreaking paradox:
We do this thinking we’re loving them. Protecting them. Guiding them.

But love without listening becomes control.
Guidance without understanding becomes a wall.
And when children don’t feel free to speak, they slowly stop trying.

What they need isn’t a better version of our thoughts.
They need a safe place to explore their own.
Not to be reshaped—
But to be witnessed, heard, and held in their becoming.

What To Do Instead

Start by doing the thing that seems hardest: ask, don’t assume.

“What do you think about that?”
“How does that make you feel?”
“What have you heard about this?”

Then stop. Be quiet. Let them speak. Even if it shocks you. Even if it challenges everything you believe.
You don’t have to agree with everything they say—but you must honour it. Because the moment they feel dismissed, they’ll never bring it to you again.

You are not there to fix their feelings. You’re there to hold space for them.
That is how trust is built—not in giving the “right” answers, but in giving room to speak freely.

You Don’t Have to Have the Answers

Parenting isn’t about control. It’s about connection.
You’re not raising a clone of your beliefs—you’re raising a human being who is discovering themselves in a world that’s far more complex than the one you grew up in.

If you want to be part of their journey, stop telling them what to think.
Start asking who they are becoming.

The goal is not to have a child who always agrees with you.
The goal is to have a child who can come to you—even when they don’t.

rovena kodra