I still remember the knot in my stomach when my mother’s voice would rise. The immediate need to make myself smaller, quieter, less.
Growing up in a household where children were meant to be seen but not heard left marks I’m still discovering as I navigate parenting Ellie and Milo.
When Ellie turned five last year and asked me why I let her use paint without asking first, I realized how different my approach is from the way I was raised. She couldn’t imagine needing permission for creative expression. And that difference? It’s entirely intentional.
Research shows that children raised by authoritarian parents often struggle with low self-esteem and difficulty making their own decisions. Many of us who grew up under strict rules make conscious choices to parent differently, not out of rebellion, but from a deep understanding of what we needed and didn’t receive.
Here are eight ways people raised in strict households approach parenting their own children differently.
1) They prioritize emotional expression over obedience
In strict households, the message is clear: comply or face consequences. Questions aren’t welcomed, and emotions that don’t align with parental expectations are quickly shut down.
I grew up believing that any display of frustration or sadness was unacceptable. My parents weren’t cruel, just products of their own upbringing where emotional restraint was valued above all else.
Now with my own kids, I find myself doing something radical: I let them feel their feelings. When Milo melts down because his tower collapsed, I don’t rush him to “fine.” I sit with him. I name what he’s experiencing.
Emotional regulation starts with emotional acceptance. Children need to know their feelings are valid before they can learn to manage them.
Instead of “stop crying” or “you’re fine,” I hear myself saying “tell me more” and “I’m listening.” These simple phrases create space for my kids to develop emotional intelligence rather than emotional suppression.
2) They explain the “why” behind rules
“Because I said so” was the anthem of my childhood. Rules existed without context, and questioning them was seen as defiance rather than curiosity.
Those of us raised this way often become parents who explain our reasoning. Not because we need our children’s approval, but because we understand that comprehension leads to cooperation.
When I tell Ellie she needs to wear her coat, I don’t just issue the command. I talk about how our bodies work, how cold affects us, why protection matters. She still might resist, but she understands the reasoning beyond my authority.
This approach aligns with what researchers call authoritative parenting, which combines warmth with clear expectations. Studies indicate that authoritative parents guide behavior by reasoning with their kids, creating an environment where children learn to think critically rather than simply comply.
The difference is subtle but significant: we’re raising kids who understand cause and effect, not just commands and consequences.
3) They view mistakes as learning opportunities
In strict households, mistakes often equal punishment. The focus is on what went wrong and who’s to blame, not on what can be learned.
I remember being terrified of making errors as a child. That fear didn’t make me more careful; it made me more anxious and less willing to try new things.
Now when Ellie spills her water or Milo accidentally breaks something, my first response isn’t anger. It’s curiosity. What happened? What can we do differently next time? How can we fix this together?
Children’s brains are literally developing their capacity for judgment, planning, and impulse control. Harsh punishment for mistakes doesn’t accelerate that development; it just adds shame to the learning process.
4) They create space for autonomy and choice
Research on intergenerational parenting patterns shows that parenting practices have evolved across generations with an increased tendency toward parental warmth, reflecting a shift toward more responsive, child-centered approaches.
That’s a far cry from the old days, when strict parenting often meant children have little say in their own lives. Clothing, activities, friendships, even food preferences might be dictated rather than discussed.
Many of us raised this way become parents who intentionally create opportunities for our children to make age-appropriate choices. Not because we’re permissive, but because we understand that decision-making is a skill that requires practice.
In our home, Ellie chooses her clothes each morning. Sometimes her choices are…let’s call them creative. But she’s learning to assess weather, consider comfort, and develop her own sense of style. These are small decisions with small consequences, perfect for practicing.
5) They model vulnerability and apologize when wrong
In my childhood home, parents were infallible. They didn’t apologize, didn’t admit mistakes, didn’t show uncertainty. This created a hierarchy where authority was preserved at the cost of authenticity.
I’m determined to do this differently.
When I lose my patience and snap at Ellie, I apologize. I offer a genuine “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way. You didn’t deserve that. I was frustrated, but that wasn’t okay.”
I won’t lie, this felt deeply uncomfortable at first. My programming said that apologizing to a child would undermine my authority.
But I’ve found the opposite is true. When I model taking responsibility, my kids learn accountability. When I show them I’m human, they feel safer being imperfect themselves.
Matt does this too. Last weekend he promised to build a fort with Milo but got caught up finishing a project. Later, he acknowledged breaking that promise and they built the fort together. Milo learned that words matter and that repair is possible.
6) They balance structure with flexibility
Strict households often operate with rigid rules that don’t bend for context or individual circumstances. The rule is the rule, regardless of extenuating factors.
Those of us breaking that cycle tend to maintain structure while building in flexibility. We have routines because they provide security, but we also recognize when those routines need to adapt.
Our bedtime routine is consistent: bath, stories, songs, back rubs. But on summer evenings when fireflies appear, we sometimes shift it later. When someone’s had a hard day, we extend story time.
The structure provides predictability, but the flexibility shows our kids that rules serve people, not the other way around.
This approach requires more mental energy than rigid adherence to rules. It means constantly evaluating whether a boundary is truly important or just habitual. But it creates an environment where kids learn to think contextually rather than following rules blindly.
7) They prioritize connection over correction
In authoritarian parenting, the focus is often on controlling behavior through consequences. The parent-child relationship becomes transactional: behave well, receive approval; misbehave, face punishment.
Many of us raised strictly now understand that behavior is communication. When Milo gets clingy and whiny, my first question isn’t “how do I stop this behavior?” It’s “what is he trying to tell me?”
Usually, he needs connection. Maybe we’ve been busy and he’s felt overlooked. Maybe he’s processing something and needs extra security. Addressing the underlying need almost always resolves the behavior more effectively than punishment would.
This doesn’t mean I ignore misbehavior. But I’ve learned that children who feel deeply connected to their parents are more likely to cooperate. The relationship is the foundation; everything else builds from there.
8) They do their own healing work
This might be the most important difference. Those of us parenting differently than we were raised recognize that we can’t give our children what we haven’t developed in ourselves.
I’ve done therapy. I’ve read extensively about attachment, emotional regulation, and childhood development. I’ve sat with uncomfortable truths about my own upbringing, not to blame my parents, but to understand the patterns I might unconsciously perpetuate.
Recently, I read Rudá Iandê’s Laughing in the Face of Chaos: A Politically Incorrect Shamanic Guide for Modern Life, and one passage stopped me in my tracks: “We live immersed in an ocean of stories, from the collective narratives that shape our societies to the personal tales that define our sense of self.”
That hit home. The story I inherited was that children should be quiet, that emotions are inconvenient, that obedience trumps understanding. But it doesn’t have to be the story I pass on. We get to choose which narratives we carry forward and which ones we set down.
This work is ongoing. Just last week I caught myself using the same impatient tone my mother used. The difference is that now I notice it, pause, and choose something different.
We can’t expect to automatically parent in new ways just because we intend to. The neural pathways built in our own childhoods are strong. Changing them requires conscious effort, self-awareness, and often professional support.
Matt and I check in with each other about this regularly. We ask: “How was your day really?” We notice when stress is making us less patient. We remind each other of the parents we want to be, especially on the hard days when reverting to what we know feels easier.
Conclusion
Breaking generational patterns isn’t about perfection. I still make mistakes. I still sometimes hear my mother’s voice coming out of my mouth and cringe. But the difference is in the intention and the repair.
Children raised in strict households often grow into adults who parent with more warmth, more flexibility, and more emotional attunement than they received. We experienced firsthand what was missing and we’re determined to fill that gap for our own children.
That’s what breaking cycles really means: becoming conscious enough to choose differently, brave enough to do the work, and patient enough with ourselves and our children as we all figure it out together.
