Safe, seen, heard, and loved

Thoughts and questions about gentle parenting

I’ve seen a lot of social posts and articles lately about the merits of gentle parenting. I’ve seen people write about abandoning the parenting style, I’ve seen critics describe it as negligent or even unbiblical. I’m not even sure I want to call this a debate, though. From both critics and proponents, I continue to encounter broad statements made about a parenting style that is hard to define. Each group is latching on to specific parenting behaviors—usually things they’ve seen reflected in a brief post on social media—and then going hard after it.

As I watch the debate unfold, I think it’s important to highlight that there is intentionally not a specific definition or a prescriptive set of steps to follow. I would assert that gentle parenting is better qualified as a philosophy of parenting rather than a rigid set of rules. Regardless, implementing this attitude—this new way of engaging your kids—necessitates a cultural shift within a family. And tangibly, that will have to look different for every family. 

I think this is what trips people up the most, even if they don’t acknowledge it: whether they’re critical of gentle parenting or trying to implement the approach, there isn’t a clear set of guidelines. 

I can understand criticism of the lack of a directed approach or set of steps to follow, but in my relatively limited experience, parenting requires an individualized approach. Perhaps the disagreement lies in the degree of individualization required.

I feel like I always need to take a moment to emphasize that I’m not an expert when I write posts like this. I have no academic credentials, but I AM a mom who has spent countless hours researching parenting strategies, neurodivergence, and psychology, as well as learning from more experienced parents. I’ve done this because the most common, conventional (and usually prescriptive) approaches are seldom effective for my family.

Sarah Ockwell-Smith, who is credited with popularizing the term, put it this way:

“Gentle Parenting isn’t really about using specific methods. It’s about an ethos and completely changing the way you think. It’s more a way of being than a way of doing. Approaching any and all parenting situations with empathy for the child and trying to understand the reasonings behind their behaviour, working together to change it positively and accepting what cannot be changed.”

Photo by Susan Holt Simpson on Unsplash

I discovered gentle parenting before I found similar concepts such as conscious, responsive, respectful, and conscientious parenting. That’s primarily why I’ve stuck with the term. At the end of the day, I’d argue that all of these styles are functionally gentle. They’re authoritative (as opposed to authoritarian) styles of parenting focused on fostering empathy, respect, and autonomy in children, without resorting to physical discipline.

Another common thread I’ve found is that we see our children as whole humans and, with respect to their safety, autonomy, and dignity, guide them through this world to become the best adults they can be. Critics of the approach are often shocked to find that this includes setting boundaries and working through consequences in an age appropriate way.

A frequent and arguably the most significant misconception about gentle parenting is that it is permissive. Critics, including a number of influencers and authors, argue that it lacks discipline and structure. But my experience and research suggest otherwise.

Parenting this way isn’t really about letting children do whatever they want. I think it’s also worth noting that discipline doesn’t (and shouldn’t) immediately equal punishment in the parent-child relationship. We have to be careful not to conflate those definitions.

Especially in the context of my children's specific needs, I can understand that this approach can seem permissive to outsiders. You might see me get down to my kids’ level, talk to them about the choices being made and how they might impact downstream choices, and then, depending on the context, see my child choose what isn’t my desired choice. But this exercise in safely giving autonomy is just one drop in the bucket of conversations and choices we’re making together every day.

Something I keep coming back to is that so much of these “gentle” parenting styles are really about us as parents being gentle with ourselves SO THAT we can be gentle, thoughtful, understanding, and safe for our kids. This way of parenting isn’t permissive, but it IS about taking a curiosity-driven approach to parenting where children are given autonomy within clear, predefined boundaries.

I have had conversations about whether my parenting choices will compromise my children’s safety or health. I’ve had people ask if these choices will impact their education. We’re the only people I know writing a homeschool IEP, because we want to maximize options and access to education as our kids older. But I digress. I will have to come back to this particular point at another time. My goal as a mother is to help my children feel, safe, seen, heard, and loved—and to empower them to create that for their relationships in the future, too.

Before we’d become familiar with gentle parenting, we called it a “choose your battles” approach. In hindsight, this aligned closely with low-demand parenting. We practiced a sort of radical acceptance of who our kids are and who we are—and how our developmental and relational needs are evolving—and then we focus on building skills in the areas that matter the most.

One expert I trust refers to this as “high autonomy” parenting - that is, giving our kids the maximum amount of autonomy that is developmentally appropriate. In our house, this typically involves setting boundaries, limits, and working through natural consequences as is appropriate. It also involves an immense amount of play, affection, and intentional reminders that our children are loved and safe—both with our words and through our actions.

Photo by Karl Fredrickson on Unsplash

In the context of my faith, I’ve struggled to find Christian frameworks for parenting that specifically address disability, especially when the disabilities aren’t visible. There are also comparably less resources about taking a non-punitive, non-authoritarian approach to parenting. (If you want more on this, definitely check out the work Marissa Burt and Kelsey McGinnis are doing.) I’ve found a lot of memoirs—largely from individuals parenting or caring for a disabled individual, a handful of books about church practices and children’s ministry, and a growing body of academic work that I hope will make its way to the masses in the next few years. 

We’re fortunate to be loved well by the church community we belong to, but we also still struggle with the looks and the comments from people who don’t know us. We’ve been told things like, “Just leave them with me. I’ll straighten them out.” Or “You just need to show them who’s boss.”

And while I appreciate the “get after it” support being offered…it just feels misguided, at best. I would argue that while I’m an incredibly flawed, broken, and imperfect person, the problem isn’t my parenting style, which is ever-evolving within the framework of being respectful, empathetic, and understanding.

The problem, in my opinion, is that there are only certain types of parenting styles that make many people comfortable—especially in church settings. And this problem is further compounded by the fact that these styles of parenting—usually high discipline, high compliance, authoritarian ways of engaging children—are often the very styles of parenting that seem to make children like mine feel viscerally unsafe, activating a fight or flight response and requiring immense time to recover and repair.

As seems to be my tendency, I’m just left with more questions about a way forward, especially in communities of faith:

What would happen if we stopped dismissing gentle parenting styles as too lenient and pushing for a return to more traditional, authoritarian methods? What would happen if we started asking why this is what this family has chosen—and further, asking if there’s a need we could help meet? 

What would happen if we held our knowledge of child development and neuroscience alongside scripture, church history, and our insights into our children’s needs and behavior? Think of the humans doing this work. Consider the children that will benefit from this research and these prayers. Consider our leaders. Imagine the parents and grandparents and caregivers in these families. Aren’t we all created in the image of God? Aren’t we all deserving of dignity and respect, regardless of our behavior or ability? 

What if we stopped criticizing parents for not doing a good job “shepherding” or “stewarding” our kids? What if we instead chose to have a conversation about who our children are? What if we began with reminders that they are image-bearers of a God who loves them? What if we adults reminded ourselves that we are living in a time where we have endless possibilities and far greater resources to offer support than previous generations?

Imagine how families like mine would feel if the conversation moved from forming obedient, compliant children to integrating all our knowledge, data, resources, and support in a way that empowers families and communities to feel safe, seen, heard, and loved.

Even if gentle parenting isn’t deemed the right answer, imagine the fruit of conversations like this. Imagine how well we could guiding our children in making good, virtuous choices and learning to prayerfully problem-solve, especially when the next right thing isn’t clear.

Sometimes I wonder if we forget that parenting is a long game. My husband and I talk a lot about what we want our life to feel like in 20 or 30 or 40 years, God-willing. Who do we want in our home during holidays? What do we want communication and relationships with our kids to look like? Then we work backwards—we think and pray and logistically consider what needs to happen today, or in 2 years, or in 5 years, etc. to facilitate movement in the direction of those goals.

Then we hold it loosely—with open hands—because life is unpredictable, and there’s no guaranteed ROI in human relationships. 

We put in what we can, and the people we invest in still have freedom to do what they want with what we put in. We are parenting this way as one aspect of supporting our children as they make increasingly difficult choices. Blue shirt or pink shirt, putting away laundry before TV, choosing to play a sport or an instrument, choosing which friends to spend time with, choosing which faith community to join, choosing a job, who to marry, where to live…

Even if we tell them what is right and wrong, we’ll serve them best by showing them how we arrived at those conclusions. Even if they disagree someday.

I know this post engages the semantics, but I am trying to remember that it’s not about what we call our approach. It’s about the respect and humanity we offer our children—it’s about treating them with dignity and nurturing them in a way that empowers them to thrive all the way into adulthood.

As terminology continues to be a point of contention, I hope we can all agree that empathy, compassion, understanding, and autonomy are still valuable and valid directions to expend our parenting energy.

The world is complicated and stressful enough. It’s my hope and my prayer that parent-child relationships wouldn’t contribute to that anymore than they already have.

It’s my hope that by extending grace and empathy, we can be a beacon of sorts—a model for what to look for as our kids go out into the world, instead of something to rail against.

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Bits & Bobs

• It’s summer break? | We homeschool, and it’s a pretty relaxed experience. We’re slowing down even more than our usual pace, but learning never stops. We’ve done a lot of science experiments and math this month. Displacement/sink or float experiments are a particular favorite lately.

• Parents need mission statements? | A few years ago, I worked with a parenting coach who encouraged me to define my mission statement as a mother. That’s how I arrived at the phrase, “safe, seen, heard, and loved.” If my children take nothing else away from their childhood, I hope they enter adulthood feeling those things. I hope that from there, they develop a love of learning, a desire to thrive and be successful, a deep shared faith in a God who also makes them feel that way. What would you say your mission statement is? A future post on this exercise is in the works.

• Analysis of Popular Christian Parenting Teaching | I linked Kelsey and Marissa’s substacks in the piece above, but this is their YouTube channel. You can view more of their content and conversations about different parenting styles.

• Journeys with PDA Retreat | Tickets are on sale! I will be speaking about my experience making career transitions in order to be more hands-on as a caregiver. Still working through exactly what I’ll share, but if you have specific thoughts or questions about this downshift, let me know.

• Father’s Day | Father’s Day was a few days ago. Taking a moment to say that I am so grateful for the man I married and the way he so thoughtfully and tenderly parents our kids. I’ve also just been so darn sad lately missing my dad. Grief doesn’t go away, it just changes.

• Future posts | Given the first point here, I’m not sure how much I’ll post the next couple of months. My intention was weekly, but it’s looking like 2x/month is a more sustainable pace. I’m hoping to do more writing and spending time outside with my kids. And I’m definitely hoping to start my days with a little more time basking in the sun like cat, which always helps with the generative process.

Ok, that’s it for now. See y’all next time. 👋