The most powerful parenting change often doesn’t come from changing our children, but from changing ourselves.
A few months ago, I experienced something that caught me completely off guard. My son Hitarth, who had always been responsive to my guidance, suddenly seemed to be ignoring my words, rejecting my instructions, and resisting what I said.
At first, I didn’t notice it—or perhaps I didn’t want to. Maybe because I was too caught up in my daily whirlwind—managing household chores, writing for my blog, and staying connected with friends. Or maybe I thought, kids have moods and it’s just a phase!
But then, a fellow mom, someone who had always admired my parenting approach, pointed it out: “I’ve noticed he’s stopped listening to you.” Those words hit me like a wake-up call. It wasn’t criticism. It was an observation. A mirror. And it made me pause and reflect deeply.
Instead of pointing fingers at Hitarth or letting frustration take over, I paused and turned the lens on myself.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept asking myself, ”What had changed? Why wasn’t he responding to me the way he used to?”
I played back recent weeks in my mind… and then it struck me. In the quiet moments of self-reflection that followed, I realized something uncomfortable but necessary: I had been too busy.
There was a time when I would say, “Hitarth, wait for 2 minutes, I’ll come,” and he would wait patiently—because he knew I meant it. I did go back to him after those two minutes.
But recently?
I had stopped being present. I wasn’t giving him the attention he deserved.
There were many moments when Hitarth called out to me:
- “Mumma, come see what I made!”
- “Mumma, I climbed this all by myself!”
And my usual response? “Coming, beta… in two minutes.”
But I didn’t go.
I’d get distracted by a conversation with friends or some other task that seemed important in the moment. And unknowingly, I started ignoring him—the one who always waited for me.
And I didn’t even realize that those tiny missed moments were building a wall between us.
I didn’t break his trust in one big blow.
I did it slowly… silently… by being physically present but emotionally absent.
He waited the first few times.
Then he stopped calling me.
And finally, he stopped listening to me.
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He noticed.
-
He felt it.
-
And slowly, he stopped trusting my words.
To Hitarth, my “wait” had become an empty promise. Why should he listen to me when I wasn’t listening to him?
Also read: Discover the Power of Parenting Affirmations: Nurturing My Bond with Hitarth
This realization came into sharper focus after a heartfelt exchange with that friend. I messaged her that night, pouring out my thoughts:
“Hey, unknowingly, you made me realize something big today. Remember when you said Hitarth used to wait when I said ‘wait’? Now I’ve realized that it happened because I used to listen to him and go to him after the said timing. But nowadays, I’ve stopped going to him; I’ve stopped seeing him because I keep myself so busy talking with friends. So maybe he’s started realizing that Mumma is just saying ‘wait’ for the sake of saying it, and she won’t come. That’s why he insists I go to him immediately, without waiting. And maybe my lack of presence nowadays (which was not the case earlier) could have contributed to his overall changed behaviour. Anyways, thank you very much for this ❤️ now I know what needs to change 😊.”
Her response was both reassuring and insightful:
“It was just an observation. My daughter does this too. I feel they’ve reached 5, they’re in the threshold of independence but also want their mummas’ attention, but on their terms, not ours… Also, be kind on yourself. You’re one of the most hands-on mums I know. Kids act out, that’s unavoidable. But always know you’re doing your best.”
Her words gave me the grace to forgive myself and the motivation to do better. And despite her kindness, I knew what I needed to do. I made a conscious decision: instead of focusing on changing Hitarth, I would work on changing myself.
I began by being more mindful of my presence with him. When I said I would come, I actually came. When he spoke, I truly listened. I started carving out dedicated time each day where he received my full, undivided attention—no phone, no chores, no distractions.
The transformation wasn’t immediate, but it was remarkable. Within a month, we were back on track. His resistance melted away, and the beautiful dynamic we once shared returned, perhaps even stronger than before.
It was a humbling reminder that parenting isn’t a one-and-done job. It’s a continuous process of learning, reflecting, and growing—together with our children.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
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Children don’t always need perfect parents.
They need present parents. -
When kids “act out,” they’re not being bad.
They’re often just missing us. -
A child’s behavior is often a mirror of what’s happening inside our home—and our hearts.
When they seem to be drifting away or acting out, sometimes the most powerful question isn’t “What’s wrong with them?” but rather “What can I change about myself?”
Ask yourself:
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Am I truly listening to them?
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Am I present, or just physically around?
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Do I keep the little promises I make?
You may realize, like I did, that small changes in us can bring big changes in them.
Also read: How childhood trauma in parents affects their parenting style
There’s a saying that rings true in my experience: “There is always a reason for someone’s changed behavior.” As parents, having the humility to look inward rather than simply trying to correct outward behaviors can lead to the most meaningful transformations in our relationships with our children.
Have you ever experienced a similar moment of parenting realization? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments below.
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