Strong Enough to Soften: Rethinking Independence in Parenting
Why do I dislike weak people so much?
That question came out of nowhere the other day. And instead of brushing it off, I let it sit. I didn’t like the answer, but I kept digging anyway.
Can I get real here?
I get frustrated with people who seem passive. People who wait around for someone else to fix things. People who collapse too easily, or never seem to stand up at all. It’s not a good look, and I carry a real edge when I see it.
Something in me recoils. Like, come on. Life’s hard. No one’s coming. Figure it out.
And honestly, I felt like I was born that way. I always had a fighting streak in me. Anti-authority, defiant, stubborn. I didn’t like listening to my parents growing up. I wanted to do things my own way. And while that independence helped me grow into someone who could push through and make things happen, it came at a cost.
As I moved into adolescence, that streak made it harder to stay close to my parents. There was more tension than connection. More friction than harmony. I pulled away because I didn’t want to be told what to do, and in doing so, I missed out on something else. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that distance became part of the blueprint I carried into adulthood.
My wife is more generous than I am, which I read as weak oftentimes. She comforts when I challenge. She allows them more grace than discipline. She gives them a softer place to land. And I’ve caught myself thinking, is that too much? Is she making them soft?
But then I remember, her strength just looks different than mine. She offers our kids the kind of emotional support I didn’t grow up with. And maybe, just maybe, they need both.
That’s the line we’re walking. Between strength and softness. Between teaching independence and creating connection.
And the question I keep coming back to is this:
How do we make sure generosity doesn’t turn into rescuing? And how do we teach grit without starving out connection?
I don’t have the full answer. But I’m trying to live in that question. Because maybe parenting isn’t about choosing a side. Maybe it’s about learning to hold both.
One of my personality traits is that I love to wonder. It’s just how I’m wired. I like turning things over, looking underneath, asking where they came from and what they’re really about.
It reminds me of a show I loved growing up called The Wonder Years. It followed a kid named Kevin Arnold as he navigated childhood and family and the awkward in-between of growing up. What made it powerful wasn’t the drama. It was the reflection. The way the adult version of Kevin looked back and tried to make sense of it all. Ordinary moments suddenly felt meaningful because someone took the time to wonder about them.
That’s what I’m trying to do here. Take a feeling I don’t fully understand and sit with it. Turn it over. Ask where it comes from and what it’s trying to teach me.
Because maybe strength isn’t just about being tough or independent or figuring it all out alone. Maybe real strength is found in the wondering. And maybe the wondering is what keeps us alive.
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