My daughter is a lot.
She is loud, funny, confident, and absolutely full of personality. She loves to banter, has opinions, and isn't particularly afraid to share them. And I love that about her!
Of course, she is still learning how to use all of it.
When to joke and when to listen. How confidence can sometimes sound like disrespect. How to recognize when something she said landed differently than she intended. How to read a room. How to apologize. How to be fully herself while still understanding the people around her.
And I’ve been thinking a lot lately on how best to parent her. Encourage her. Guide her.
Some of my favorite moments are when a teacher, coach, or other adult pulls her aside and simply talks to her. Honestly and directly. When they say things like, “I know you didn't mean it that way, but here's how it came across.”
There is something powerful about that approach. They aren't trying to change who she is. They aren't embarrassed or offended by her personality or trying to quiet everything that makes her her. They're simply helping her understand how to use it.
They don't punish the personality. They train it.
I love that phrase because I think it applies to so many kids.
Sometimes the very thing that makes a child difficult at 12 might become one of their greatest strengths at 25.
The loud kid may be learning how to use his voice.
The class clown may be learning how to bring joy to a room.
The strong-willed kid may be learning how to lead.
The kid who questions everything may be learning how to advocate.
The emotional kid may someday be the adult who notices what everyone else misses.
The goal isn't to excuse poor behavior. Kids still need boundaries. They need correction. They need adults willing to tell them the truth.
But correction doesn't have to mean rejection. Frustration. Sometimes our job is to look beneath the behavior and ask a different question . . . What is in this kid that is worth developing?
Because they aren't finished yet. And, if I’m honest, neither am I!!!
That's one of the great privileges of being an adult in the life of a kid. We get to help them take all those raw, awkward, sometimes frustrating pieces of who they are and learn what to do with them.
Not squash them. Not shame them.
Train them.
And I just love that.