Gentle parenting has taken over our feeds, our bookshelves, and our playground conversations. And honestly? I love that we’re moving toward more connection-based approaches with our kids. The shift away from punitive discipline feels like progress.
But here’s what I’ve noticed, both in my own home and in conversations with other parents: we’re often getting gentle parenting wrong. Not because we’re bad parents or because the approach is flawed, but because the nuance gets lost somewhere between the Instagram infographic and the 5 p.m. meltdown in the kitchen.
We absorb the aesthetic of gentle parenting without fully understanding the framework. And that gap? It leaves us feeling like failures when we’re actually just missing a few key pieces.
1) Confusing gentle with permissive
This is the big one, and it trips up so many of us. Gentle parenting has somehow become synonymous with letting kids do whatever they want, and that’s simply not accurate. The approach was never meant to eliminate boundaries. It was meant to change how we hold them.
Dr. Becky Kennedy, clinical psychologist and author of Good Inside, puts it clearly: “Boundaries are what we tell our kids we will do, and they require zero cooperation from our child.” A boundary isn’t a request. It’s a statement about what you, the parent, will allow or not allow. And holding that boundary firmly, without yelling or shaming, is the whole point.
When Milo throws his cup across the room at dinner, I don’t negotiate or explain endlessly. I calmly remove the cup. “I won’t let you throw your cup. You can have it back when you’re ready to keep it on the table.” That’s gentle and firm at the same time. Kids actually feel safer when they know where the edges are.
2) Thinking every moment requires a teaching moment
I’ve been guilty of this one more times than I can count. Your child hits their sibling, and suddenly you’re launching into a five-minute explanation about feelings, body autonomy, and conflict resolution while everyone is still crying and dysregulated.
The truth is, mid-meltdown is the worst time for a lesson. When emotions are running high, the logical brain isn’t online. All that beautiful explaining you’re doing? It’s not landing. It’s actually just adding more noise to an already overwhelming moment.
Sometimes gentle parenting looks like saying very little. It looks like separating the kids, sitting quietly with the one who’s upset, and saving the conversation for later when everyone has calmed down. Connection first, correction second. And sometimes the correction can wait until bedtime or even the next day.
3) Believing you can never show frustration
There’s this unspoken pressure in gentle parenting circles to be endlessly patient, perpetually calm, a sort of emotional robot who never raises their voice or feels irritated. But that’s not realistic, and honestly, it’s not even healthy modeling for our kids.
Children need to see that adults have feelings too. They need to witness us getting frustrated and then managing that frustration in healthy ways. As noted by researchers at the Harvard Center on the Developing Child, what matters most for healthy development is the repair, not the rupture. Relationships can handle conflict. What builds resilience is coming back together afterward.
When I snap at Ellie because I’m touched out and exhausted, I don’t pretend it didn’t happen. Later, I come back to her. “I spoke to you in a way that wasn’t kind earlier. I was feeling really frustrated, and I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry.” That’s the work. That’s what we’re actually teaching them.
4) Over-explaining to very young children
I see this constantly, and I’ve done it myself. We crouch down to our toddler’s level and deliver a paragraph-long explanation about why we can’t buy the toy at Target, complete with lessons about money, delayed gratification, and consumer culture.
Meanwhile, our two-year-old has already moved on to trying to climb out of the cart.
Young children don’t need lengthy explanations. Their brains aren’t developmentally ready to process all that information in the moment. A simple, clear statement is often more effective and less overwhelming. “We’re not buying a toy today. I know that’s disappointing.” Done. You’ve acknowledged the feeling, held the boundary, and kept it digestible.
As kids get older, explanations can grow with them. But matching our communication to their developmental stage is part of being responsive parents.
5) Validating feelings but never moving forward
Validation is a cornerstone of gentle parenting, and for good reason. When children feel heard, they’re more likely to cooperate and less likely to escalate. But sometimes we get stuck in the validation loop.
“You’re really upset that we have to leave the park. It’s so hard to stop playing when you’re having fun. You wish we could stay forever. You’re feeling so sad and angry right now.” And we just… keep going. Naming feelings on repeat while our child continues to spiral and we miss our window to actually help them move through it.
Validation is the starting point, not the destination. After acknowledging the feeling, we can gently guide them toward what comes next. “You’re so upset. And it’s time to go. Do you want to walk to the car or should I carry you?” We’re holding space for the emotion while still moving forward. Both things can be true.
6) Forgetting that your needs matter too
This one hits close to home. In our effort to be attuned, responsive, and gentle, we sometimes erase ourselves entirely from the equation. We meet every need, absorb every emotion, and run ourselves completely dry.
But gentle parenting was never supposed to mean parental martyrdom. You cannot pour from an empty cup, and a depleted parent is not a regulated parent. When we ignore our own needs for too long, we end up snapping, resenting, or checking out entirely.
Your needs are part of the family ecosystem. It’s okay to say, “Mama needs five minutes of quiet right now.” It’s okay to let your partner handle bedtime while you take a walk. It’s okay to not be endlessly available. In fact, modeling self-care teaches your children that everyone’s needs have value, including their own when they’re grown.
I’ve learned to be more honest with my kids about this. “I’m feeling really tired and I need a few minutes before I can play.” They’re learning that I’m a person too, with limits and needs. That’s a valuable lesson.
7) Expecting immediate results
We live in a culture of quick fixes. We want the strategy that will stop the tantrums by Tuesday. And when gentle parenting doesn’t produce instant compliance, we assume it’s not working.
But this approach is playing the long game. As Dr. Laura Markham, author of Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids, has noted: “The goal of discipline is to raise a child who is self-disciplined.” We’re not trying to control behavior in the moment. We’re trying to build humans who can eventually regulate themselves, make good choices, and maintain healthy relationships.
That takes years. It takes repetition. It takes holding the same boundary four hundred times before it finally clicks. And it takes trusting the process even when your child is screaming in the grocery store and you’re questioning every parenting choice you’ve ever made.
The seeds you’re planting now will bloom later. I remind myself of this constantly, especially on the hard days.
Closing thoughts
Gentle parenting isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being intentional. It’s about choosing connection over control, even when that’s harder. And it’s about giving yourself the same grace you’re trying to extend to your children.
If you’ve been getting some of these things wrong, welcome to the club. We’re all figuring this out as we go, adjusting and learning and trying again tomorrow. The fact that you’re even thinking about how you show up for your kids means you’re doing something right.
What I’ve found is that gentle parenting works best when we hold it loosely. When we take the principles that resonate and adapt them to our actual families, our actual children, our actual lives. Not the Instagram version. The real, messy, beautiful version that happens in your kitchen at 5 p.m. when everyone is hungry and tired and you’re just doing your best.
That’s enough. You’re enough.
