Last week I wrote about why teaching kids to “be strong” might be doing more harm than good.

The response surprised me.

Not because people disagreed but because of what they said next:

“I agree with everything you wrote. But how do I actually do this? I don’t know where to start.”

“I catch myself saying ‘stop crying’ before I even realize it. It just comes out.”

“I know I’m passing on my own baggage. But what’s the alternative?”

These messages hit me. Because I’ve been there.

Knowing something is wrong is easy. Doing it differently, when you’re exhausted, triggered, and running on autopilot, it is hard.

So this is the follow-up piece. Not theory. Not more “why.” Just the practical, messy, real-world “how.”

First, let’s be honest about why this is hard

You can’t give your child something you never received.

If no one sat with you when you cried as a child, if your feelings were dismissed, minimized, or punished, then sitting with your child’s big emotions will feel uncomfortable. Maybe even unbearable.

Their tears might trigger something in you. Their anger might feel like a personal attack. Their neediness might overwhelm you.

This isn’t a flaw. This is your nervous system doing what it learned to do decades ago.

So before we talk about what to say to your child, I want you to know this:

You will mess up. You will lose your patience. You will say “stop crying” even after reading this.

That’s okay. This isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being aware. And slowly, imperfectly, doing it a little differently.

The shift: From fixing to witnessing

When a child is upset, our instinct is to fix it.

Stop the tears. Solve the problem. Make it better.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

Children don’t need us to fix their feelings. They need us to witness them.

Witnessing means being present without rushing to change anything.

It means letting them feel what they feel, fully, while you stay calm and close.

This is hard because their distress triggers our distress. We want to make it stop for them, yes, but also for us.

But when we rush to fix, we accidentally send a message, “Your feelings are a problem that needs to be solved.”

When we witness, we send a different message, “Your feelings are welcome here. You are not too much. I can handle all of you.”

That’s what builds emotional resilience. Not the absence of hard feelings but the experience of being held through them.

What to say instead: Real scripts for real moments

This is the part everyone asks for. So here it is, few simple phrases you can use when your child is upset.

These aren’t magic words. They’re just alternatives to the automatic responses most of us default to.

Instead of: “Don’t cry.”

Try: “It’s okay to cry. I’m right here.”

Or: “You’re really sad right now. That’s okay.”

Or simply: Say nothing. Just sit close. Let them cry.

Instead of: “You’re fine.”

Try: “I can see this feels really big for you right now.”

Or: “Something upset you. Do you want to tell me about it, or just sit together?”

Why this matters: “You’re fine” dismisses what they’re feeling. Even if the problem seems small to you, it’s not small to them. Acknowledging their reality builds trust.

Instead of: “Be brave.”

Try: “It’s okay to feel scared. Being scared doesn’t mean you can’t do it.”

Or: “I get scared sometimes too. We can do scary things even when we’re afraid.”

Why this matters: Bravery isn’t the absence of fear. Teaching kids they can feel scared AND move forward is more useful than teaching them to pretend the fear doesn’t exist.

Instead of: “Stop overreacting.”

Try: “This is really hard for you right now.”

Or: “I hear you. I’m here.”

Why this matters: What looks like overreacting to an adult is often a child feeling something deeply without the skills to regulate it yet. They’re not being dramatic, they’re just overwhelmed.

Instead of: “Big kids don’t do that.”

Try: “It’s okay to feel upset, no matter how old you are.”

Or: Just skip the commentary entirely. You don’t have to say anything about their age.

Why this matters: Tying emotional expression to age or maturity teaches kids that growing up means suppressing. That’s how we end up with adults who can’t access their feelings.

Instead of: “What’s wrong with you?”

Try: “Something’s going on for you. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

Or: Take a breath and say nothing until you’re calm enough to respond without frustration.

Why this matters: “What’s wrong with you?” shames. Even when we don’t mean it that way, that’s how it lands.

The hardest part: Staying calm when they’re not

Here’s the truth no one talks about:

The words don’t matter as much as your energy.

You can say all the “right” things, but if you’re tense, frustrated, or trying to rush through the moment, your child will feel it.

Kids don’t just hear us. They feel us.

So the most important thing you can do when your child is upset is regulate yourself first.

This is not easy. Especially when you’re tired, stressed, or triggered.

But here’s a simple thing that helps:

Before you respond, take one slow breath.

Just one.

That breath creates a tiny gap between their emotion and your reaction. In that gap, you get to choose how to respond instead of running on autopilot.

You won’t always remember to do this. That’s okay. But when you do remember, it changes everything.

What to do when you mess up

You will lose your patience.

You will snap.

You will say “stop crying” or “you’re fine” or something worse.

This doesn’t make you a bad parent. It makes you a human who is also tired and carrying your own unprocessed stuff.

What matters is what happens next.

When you mess up, repair.

Repair can sound like:

“Hey, I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was frustrated, and I didn’t handle it well. Your feelings matter, and it’s okay that you were upset.”

That’s it. Simple. Honest.

Repair does two powerful things:

1. It shows your child that relationships can recover from ruptures. That people can make mistakes and still be trustworthy.

2. It models what accountability looks like. They learn that even adults get it wrong sometimes, and that apologizing is strength, not weakness.

You don’t have to be a perfect parent. You have to be a repairing parent. A parent your child needs.

A word about your own healing

I said this earlier, but it bears repeating,

You can’t give your child what you never received.

If sitting with emotions is hard for you, if you feel overwhelmed, shut down, or triggered by your child’s big feelings then that’s the information.

It might mean there’s some of your own stuff to look at.

Not to blame yourself. Not to add more guilt to the pile.

But because the more you understand your own patterns, the less you’ll unconsciously pass them on.

This is the real work of parenting. Not managing your child’s behavior. But understanding yourself well enough that you can stay present when things get hard.

Some parents do this work in therapy. Some through journaling, or meditation, or honest conversations with friends who get it. Some through programs designed specifically for this.

However you do it, it matters. For you, and for them.

Start small

You don’t have to overhaul everything overnight.

Pick one phrase from this post. Just one.

Maybe it’s “It’s okay to cry. I’m right here.”

Practice it. Not perfectly but just intentionally.

Notice what happens when you say it. Notice what happens in your body. Notice how your child responds.

That’s enough for now.

Parenting differently than we were parented is not a one-time decision. It’s a daily practice. Some days you’ll do well. Some days you’ll fall back into old patterns.

Both are okay.

What matters is that you keep showing up. Keep trying. Keep repairing when you mess up.

That’s what breaks the cycle. Not perfection but presence.

One last thing

If this resonated with you, I want you to know, you’re not doing this alone.

This is what I think about every day. How do we give children the emotional education we never got? How do we become the parents we needed?

It’s why I created Young SoulTales to help children build emotional awareness from an early age, so they don’t have to spend their adulthood unlearning like we did.

And it’s why I write these posts. Because I believe the work starts with us — the parents, the adults, the ones who are willing to do it differently.

And if you have questions, or just want to share what’s hard for you right now, I’d genuinely love to hear. Reply to this, or send me a message. Real conversations are how this work begins.

#parenting #emtionalintelligence #mentalhealth #children #motherhood

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom — Viktor E. Frankl