Ever catch yourself hovering over your kids at the playground, then suddenly remembering how you roamed the neighborhood until the streetlights came on?
Last week, I watched Ellie climb our backyard tree while every fiber in my body wanted to yell “Be careful!”
Instead, I bit my tongue and remembered scaling trees twice that height when I was her age, with nobody watching at all.
My parents? They were inside, probably assuming I’d figure it out or come crying if I didn’t.
That moment got me thinking about how different parenting looked when I was growing up.
My childhood in the 60s and 70s was marked by a particular brand of benign neglect that somehow produced kids who could handle themselves but adults who sometimes struggle with anxiety and emotional connection.
I’ve been unpacking this contradiction a lot lately, especially as I navigate raising my own little ones with a completely different approach.
The more I reflect on those old-school parenting habits, the clearer it becomes: They created independence through necessity, not intention, and left some pretty deep marks along the way.
1) The “children should be seen and not heard” rule
Remember sitting at the dinner table while adults talked over your head about “grown-up things”?
In my house, kids weren’t part of conversations unless directly addressed.
We ate together every night, but meaningful dialogue? That was for adults only.
This taught us to be self-sufficient with our thoughts and problems.
We learned to figure things out alone because bringing up concerns at dinner would earn a look that said “not now.”
But here’s what it also did: It made us believe our voices didn’t matter.
Now, when I watch my daughter share her elaborate stories about kindergarten drama at our dinner table, part of me still feels like she’s breaking some unspoken rule.
I listen anyway, because I know what happens when kids grow up feeling unheard.
They become adults who struggle to speak up in relationships, at work, everywhere.
2) Physical affection was rare and earned
Quick question: How often did your parents hug you growing up?
In my family, physical affection was doled out sparingly, usually for special achievements or when you were genuinely hurt.
My father, especially, showed love through providing, not through cuddles.
This distance taught us not to be “needy” or “clingy.”
We became independent because seeking comfort wasn’t really an option.
But now? So many of us struggle with intimacy and vulnerability.
We learned to self-soothe so well that we forgot how to let others in.
These days, my two-year-old practically lives in my arms, and I’m okay with that.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m creating a “mama’s boy,” then I remember feeling touch-starved as a kid and think: Better too much love than not enough.
3) Mistakes meant shame
Spill your milk? Break a dish? Fail a test? The response was usually shame-based.
“What’s wrong with you?” or “You should know better by now” were common refrains.
There wasn’t much room for “everyone makes mistakes” or “what can we learn from this?”
This approach definitely made us careful and conscientious.
We learned to be hyper-aware of our actions because mistakes came with emotional consequences.
However, it also made us anxious perfectionists who beat ourselves up over the smallest errors.
When my son knocked over an entire pitcher of freshly-made lemonade last week, my first instinct was frustration.
Then I caught myself and said, “Oops! Let’s clean it up together.”
The relief on his little face reminded me how heavy shame feels when you’re small.
4) Emotional expression was weakness
“Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
Sound familiar? In my childhood home, big emotions were inconvenient at best, unacceptable at worst.
We learned to stuff feelings down and “toughen up.”
Sure, this created kids who could handle themselves without melting down in public but it also created adults who struggle to identify and express emotions in healthy ways.
How many of us still apologize for crying or feel uncomfortable with our own feelings?
5) Independence through isolation
“Go play outside and don’t come back until dinner.”
This wasn’t a suggestion in the 60s; it was standard operating procedure.
We had hours of unsupervised time to figure out our own entertainment and solve our own problems.
Did this create resourceful, independent kids? Absolutely.
Did it also mean we dealt with bullying, injuries, and scary situations alone? Also yes.
We learned to be self-reliant because we had to be, not because someone thoughtfully taught us those skills.
6) Discipline without explanation
“Because I said so” was a complete explanation in 1960s parenting.
Rules existed, punishments were swift, and nobody owed you a reason.
We learned to comply without understanding why.
This created obedient kids who didn’t question authority, but it also created adults who sometimes struggle to think critically or stand up for themselves when something doesn’t feel right.
We followed rules without understanding their purpose, which isn’t exactly a recipe for confident decision-making.
7) Academic pressure without emotional support
Good grades were expected, almost always.
If you struggled, you weren’t trying hard enough; if you excelled, well, that’s what you were supposed to do.
There wasn’t much celebration for success or support for struggles.
We became self-motivated and driven, sure, but we also became adults who tie their worth to achievements and struggle to feel “good enough” no matter what we accomplish.
8) Gender roles carved in stone
Boys didn’t cry, play with dolls, or help in the kitchen.
Girls didn’t get dirty, play rough, or dream of careers over families.
These rigid roles created kids who knew exactly what was expected of them.
Moreover, they also created adults who struggle with identity, expression, and relationships.
How many of us are still unlearning these limiting beliefs about what we’re “supposed” to be?
9) Problems stayed in the family
“We don’t air our dirty laundry” was the motto.
Family problems were family secrets.
Therapy was for “crazy people,” and asking for help showed weakness.
This taught us to be private and self-contained.
However, it also meant we carried burdens alone and never learned that seeking support is actually a sign of strength.
Finding the balance
Here’s what I’ve realized after years of processing my own upbringing while raising my kids: Those 1960s parents weren’t wrong about everything, and we’re not right about everything now.
Yes, kids need independence and resilience but they also need emotional support and validation.
They need to solve problems themselves, but also know they can come to us when they’re truly stuck; they need boundaries, but also explanations that help them understand the why behind the rules.
I watch my five-year-old navigate friendships with more emotional intelligence than I had at fifteen, and I’m grateful.
Sometimes, I also wonder if she’d benefit from a little more benign neglect and a little less hovering from me.
The truth is, every generation thinks they’re fixing the mistakes of the last one while probably creating new ones.
Those 60s parenting habits created a generation of independent, capable adults.
They also created a generation in therapy, working through anxiety and struggling with vulnerability.
As I tuck my kids in tonight with the hundredth hug and “I love you” of the day, I’m choosing to believe we can take the best of both worlds.
We can raise independent kids without the emotional neglect, resilient kids without the shame, capable kids without the isolation.
Maybe, just maybe, we can create kids who are both independent and emotionally secure.
Now, wouldn’t that be something?
