I’ll be honest with you—it took me years to recognize what my parents got right.
Growing up in a small Midwest town with traditional, fairly strict parents, I spent most of my twenties convinced I’d do everything differently. My childhood felt so… ordinary. We ate dinner together every night, but conversations rarely went beyond “how was school?” and weather updates. My dad worked long hours, my mom ran the household, and emotions weren’t exactly our family’s forte.
But here’s what shifted everything: when I started teaching kindergarten, I began noticing patterns. Some kids could name their feelings at five years old. Others melted down at the slightest frustration. Some asked for help naturally, while others shut down completely.
And slowly, I realized my parents had given me tools I didn’t even know I had.
Now, as a mom myself—still processing those childhood patterns of perfectionism and people-pleasing—I’m learning to appreciate the quieter forms of emotional intelligence. The kind that doesn’t announce itself. The kind you only recognize when you’re trying to raise your own kids with more emotional openness.
So if you’re wondering whether your parents equipped you with emotional skills, even if they never talked about feelings or read parenting books, here are some signs to look for.
1) They let you fail without rescuing you immediately
Remember that time you forgot your homework and your mom didn’t race to school with it? Or when you had a conflict with a friend and your dad asked questions instead of calling the other parent?
That wasn’t neglect. That was trust.
Parents with emotional intelligence understand that discomfort is where growth happens. They don’t swoop in to fix every problem because they know you need to develop your own coping mechanisms.
This doesn’t mean they left you to drown. It means they threw you a life preserver instead of pulling you into the boat every single time.
Looking back, those moments taught me resourcefulness. I learned to advocate for myself, to problem-solve under pressure, to tolerate uncomfortable feelings without falling apart.
Now when Ellie forgets her water bottle or Milo can’t reach a toy on the shelf, my first instinct is to fix it. But I pause. I count to three. And usually, they figure something out.
2) They modeled repair after conflict
Did your parents ever apologize to you? Not in a performative “I’m sorry you feel that way” kind of way, but genuinely owning their mistakes?
This one’s huge.
Experts at The Gottman Institute note that repair—the process of reconnecting after conflict—is one of the most important predictors of relationship health. And kids who see their parents model this learn that ruptures aren’t the end of the world.
My mom wasn’t perfect. She’d sometimes snap when stressed or be short with us. But later—maybe after dinner, maybe before bed—she’d find us and say something like, “I was grumpy earlier and that wasn’t fair to you.”
She didn’t make excuses. She didn’t justify her behavior. She just acknowledged it.
That taught me more about emotional maturity than any parenting book ever could. It showed me that adults aren’t infallible, and that relationships can withstand honesty.
3) They asked curious questions instead of giving immediate advice
Think about how your parents responded when you came to them with a problem. Did they immediately launch into fix-it mode, or did they ask what you thought first?
Emotionally intelligent parents resist the urge to solve everything. Instead, they get curious.
“What do you think you should do?” “How did that make you feel?” “What would help right now?”
These questions do something powerful—they signal that your thoughts and feelings matter. They communicate trust in your ability to navigate your own life. They build self-awareness.
During my years teaching kindergarten, I saw the difference this made. Kids whose parents asked questions were better at identifying their own needs and advocating for themselves.
Now I try to use this approach with my own kids. When Ellie comes to me upset about something, my default response is “tell me more”—a phrase I’m still learning to embrace instead of jumping straight to solutions.
4) They set boundaries without shame or guilt
Boundaries and emotional intelligence might seem contradictory, but they’re actually deeply connected.
Parents who set clear, consistent boundaries without making you feel like a bad person for testing them? That’s emotional intelligence in action.
The key difference is in the delivery. Emotionally intelligent parents say things like “I understand you’re frustrated, but we don’t hit” instead of “you’re being bad.” They address the behavior, not your character.
This creates kids who grow into adults who can hear “no” without spiraling. Who can disagree with someone without questioning their own worth. Who understand that limits are about safety and respect, not rejection.
5) They treated your emotions as valid, even when they seemed small
How did your parents react when you were upset about something they considered trivial?
If they said things like “you’re fine” or “that’s nothing to cry about,” they were teaching you to distrust your own emotional responses. But if they acknowledged your feelings—even while maintaining perspective—they were validating your inner experience.
There’s a massive difference between “I know you’re disappointed, even though it seems small to me” and “you’re being ridiculous.”
One teaches you that your emotional landscape is real and worthy of attention. The other teaches you to minimize, suppress, and question your own reactions.
I remember being devastated when a friend excluded me from a birthday party in third grade. My mom didn’t say “you have other friends” or “just get over it.” She said, “that really hurts, doesn’t it?” And then she let me be sad.
She didn’t fix it. She didn’t minimize it. She just sat with me in it.
That’s powerful.
6) They had conversations about hard topics without freaking out
Sex, death, money, divorce, illness—every family has to navigate difficult subjects eventually. The question is how.
Emotionally intelligent parents approach these conversations with honesty appropriate to your age. They don’t lie to protect you from reality, but they also don’t dump adult anxiety onto a child’s shoulders.
They say things like “yes, people die, and that’s sad and scary sometimes” instead of “don’t worry about that.” They acknowledge that the world contains pain without making it feel overwhelming.
This teaches kids that difficult emotions and topics aren’t dangerous. That you can talk about hard things and survive the conversation. That honesty builds trust more than false reassurance.
When Matt and I eventually have to talk with Ellie and Milo about tougher subjects, I think about those kitchen table conversations from my childhood—not perfect, sometimes awkward, but fundamentally grounded in respect for my ability to handle truth.
7) They demonstrated that emotions don’t control behavior
Here’s maybe the most important sign: your parents showed you that feeling something doesn’t mean you have to act on it.
They felt angry but didn’t scream. They felt disappointed but didn’t guilt trip you. They felt frustrated but didn’t take it out on you.
This is the foundation of emotional regulation—understanding that emotions are information, not instructions.
Feelings are meant to be felt and processed, not immediately discharged onto others or suppressed entirely.
Parents who model this teach their kids that emotions come and go like weather. You can feel furious and still choose not to lash out. You can feel anxious and still take action. You can feel sad and still show up for your responsibilities.
This doesn’t mean suppressing feelings—it means creating space between feeling and action. It’s the difference between “I’m angry” and “I am my anger.”
Final thoughts
If you’re reading this and recognizing some of these patterns, take a moment to appreciate what you received.
Your parents may not have used therapeutic language or attended parenting workshops. They might not have been perfect, or even close to perfect. But if they gave you these tools—even imperfectly, even inconsistently—they gave you something invaluable.
And if you’re realizing you didn’t receive these things? That’s information too. You can build these skills now. You can learn emotional intelligence at any age. You can choose to parent differently while still honoring what was good about your own childhood.
For me, the journey is ongoing. I’m still untangling the traditional, surface-level communication patterns from my upbringing while trying to create something different—more open, more emotionally honest—with Ellie and Milo.
But I’m also learning to give my parents credit for the quieter lessons. The ones that took me two decades to recognize. The ones that showed up in how I handled my kindergarten classroom, how I approach conflict with Matt, how I’m learning to let my kids struggle without rescuing them.
Emotional intelligence isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s in the questions that weren’t asked, the lectures that were skipped, the repairs that happened quietly before bed.
Sometimes it’s in realizing that your parents’ greatest gift wasn’t perfection—it was showing you that imperfect people can still raise emotionally healthy kids.
And that might be the most emotionally intelligent lesson of all.
