You know what breaks my heart? Watching my five-year-old struggle with something and wanting desperately to fix it for her.
Every fiber of my being wants to swoop in and make everything better, but here’s the thing: Sometimes the most loving thing I can do is step back and let her figure it out herself.
We talk a lot about gentle parenting these days, about connection and empathy and meeting our kids where they are.
Yes, absolutely, those things matter.
However, there’s this misconception that being a loving parent means always being soft, always saying yes, always cushioning every fall.
After years of trying to be the “perfect” gentle parent (spoiler: that doesn’t exist), I’ve learned that tough love isn’t the opposite of gentle parenting.
Sometimes, it’s exactly what our kids need from us.
Let me share eight specific situations where I’ve had to embrace tough love, even when every instinct told me to do otherwise.
1) When they’re capable but claiming they can’t
Last week, my daughter insisted she couldn’t put on her shoes.
“I need help!” she wailed, but here’s the kicker: She’d been putting on those exact shoes for months.
She was tired, she wanted attention, and she knew I’d probably cave.
Did I want to help her? Of course.
Would it have been faster? Absolutely, but I sat on my hands and said, “I know you can do this. I’ll wait right here while you try.”
She protested, she flopped dramatically on the floor, and then, when she realized I wasn’t budging, she put on her shoes.
The proud smile on her face afterward? That was worth the temporary discomfort for both of us.
2) When natural consequences are the best teacher
Remember when your parents would say “You’ll learn the hard way”?
Turns out they were onto something as my two-year-old recently discovered what happens when you refuse to wear a coat on a chilly morning.
I brought the coat along (I’m not heartless), but I let him experience being cold first.
Within five minutes of being outside, guess who was asking for his jacket? Natural consequences teach lessons that no amount of nagging ever could.
The trick is knowing when the consequence is safe and appropriate versus when it’s genuinely harmful.
3) When they need to work through conflict with peers
Have you ever watched your child struggle with a friend and wanted to march over and fix everything? I have to physically hold myself back at the playground sometimes.
But when kids always have adults mediating their conflicts, they never develop those crucial problem-solving skills.
Unless someone’s being hurt or truly bullied, I’ve learned to give them space to work it out.
Sometimes that means my daughter comes home upset about a disagreement.
We talk about it, we process feelings, but I don’t call the other parent to smooth things over.
4) When they’re avoiding something hard but necessary
My daughter went through a phase where she was terrified of swimming lessons.
Every week brought tears and bargaining. Everything in me wanted to say, “Okay, sweetie, we can skip it.”
However, learning to swim is a safety issue where we live, surrounded by lakes and pools.
So we kept going. I validated her feelings, I stayed where she could see me, but I didn’t let her quit.
Six months later? She’s like a little fish, and she often tells me how brave she was to keep trying even when she was scared.
5) When they need to experience disappointment
Nobody wants to see their kid disappointed, but disappointment is part of life, and learning to handle it young, when the stakes are low, builds resilience for when the stakes get higher.
When my daughter doesn’t get picked for something at preschool, or when we can’t go somewhere because of weather, I don’t rush to create an elaborate alternative to make up for it.
We sit with the disappointment together; we name it, we feel it, and then we move through it.
“That’s really disappointing, isn’t it? It’s okay to feel sad about that.”
No fixing, no distracting, just presence and acknowledgment.
6) When boundaries need to be firm despite the meltdown
Screen time battles, anyone? In our house, we have pretty firm limits on screens, and when time’s up, it’s up.
The tablet goes away even if there are tears.
Does it feel awful to be the “mean mom” while my two-year-old melts down because Daniel Tiger is over? Absolutely, but consistency matters more than avoiding temporary upset.
Kids need to know that boundaries are real, that no means no, and that they can trust us to hold the line even when they push against it.
The beautiful thing? Once they realize the boundary isn’t moving, the meltdowns get shorter and less intense.
7) When they need to contribute to the family
Even little ones can help out around the house, and they should.
My five-year-old is responsible for feeding our chickens every morning.
Some days she doesn’t want to, while some days it’s cold or she’s tired or she’d rather play.
Yet, those chickens need food regardless of how she feels.
This is about teaching that we all contribute, that other living things depend on us, and that sometimes we do things because they need doing.
8) When they need to own their mistakes
Recently, my daughter accidentally broke something at a friend’s house while being silly after I’d asked her to calm down.
My first instinct was to smooth it over, minimize it, tell the other mom it was no big deal.
Instead, I had my daughter apologize herself.
She had to look the other mom in the eye and say sorry, and she helped clean up.
Moreover, she was uncomfortable, and I let her be uncomfortable because learning to take responsibility for our actions—even when they’re accidents—is how we become people others can trust.
The balance we’re all seeking
Here’s what I’ve learned: Tough love is about loving our kids enough to let them struggle, fail, and grow.
It’s about preparing them for a world that won’t always be gentle, while still being their safe place to land.
My parents initially thought I was too soft with all my “hippie parenting,” as they call it.
Now, they’re starting to see that setting these boundaries, allowing natural consequences, and refusing to rescue my kids from every discomfort is actually preparing them for life in ways that constant intervention never could.
Some days I nail this balance, and some days I definitely don’t but I keep reminding myself that the goal is to raise capable, resilient, kind humans who can handle whatever life throws at them.
Sometimes, that means choosing the harder path of tough love, even when the easier path is right there, tempting us to take it.
At the end of the day, our job is to give them strong shoes and teach them how to walk.
