You Think You Love Your Child So Much

"Everything I do, I do for your own good!"

So many parents have said this.

But one day, a child answers with red eyes:

"But I don't feel it at all."

In that moment, parents often feel both hurt and confused.

We work hard for our children. We give up our own needs for our children. We remind them to study because we're afraid they'll struggle later. We control their phones because we're afraid they'll go down the wrong road. Even when we criticize them, it's because we care about them so much.

So why is it that what parents give out is love, but what children receive may be pressure?

This may be one of the most heartbreaking things in parenting, and one of the things most worth understanding:

The love hasn't disappeared. Something just got lost along the way. There's a "perception gap."

1. In the same family, parents and children may be living in two different "versions"

In recent years, research on teenagers and families has paid more and more attention to one question: how parents rate their own parenting doesn't always match what their children actually experience.

That doesn't mean anyone is lying.

Mom says, "I care about him so much."

The child may say, "Mom is always controlling me."

Dad says, "I'm just reminding her."

But his daughter says, "Dad always thinks I'm not good enough."

What parents remember is: "I drive you to school and pick you up every day, I cook for you, I pay for your education."

What the child may remember is: "I got 95 on a test, and the first thing Dad asked was how I lost the other 5 points."

Both sides may be telling the truth.

And that's exactly the problem:

Love is the parent's motive, but what the child experiences is the way the parent expresses that love.

When it comes to the quality of family relationships, we can't only ask, "Do I love my child?"

We also need to ask one more question:

"How does my child experience my love?"

2. The easiest mistake for parents: using our "motives" to explain away our child's "feelings"

A fifteen-year-old does badly on an exam.

Mom says, "I told you a long time ago to spend less time on your phone, but you just wouldn't listen!"

What's Mom's motive? Worry.

But what the child may receive is:

"When I fail, the first thing Mom sees isn't how sad I am. It's my mistake."

A child says, "Lately it feels like nobody at school likes me."

Dad answers right away, "You need to take a look at yourself too. Why don't people like you?"

Dad may want to build a sense of responsibility in his child.

But what the child may receive is:

"Even Dad is on their side."

So the parent says, "You've misunderstood me. I'm clearly doing this for your own good!"

But that sentence usually doesn't solve anything.

Because we're explaining our motives, while our child is describing their experience.

In counseling, I often remind parents:

Good motives don't automatically produce good results.

Mature love doesn't only ask, "Are my intentions right?"

It's also willing to ask, "Does the way I express it let my child really receive my love?"

3. Why does this gap become so obvious after the teenage years begin?

When children are little, their parents are almost their whole world.

But once they enter adolescence, an important developmental task begins: a child needs to gradually become an independent person.

They start to have their own taste, their own friends, their own values and interests. They even start to rethink their parents' faith and values.

This is when parents get anxious very easily.

When he was little, he said, "Okay."

Now he says, "Why?"

When he was little, we made decisions for him.

Now he says, "That's my business."

Parents may feel, "Why is this child getting less and less obedient?"

But from the point of view of developmental psychology, a child beginning to form their own views is itself part of growing up.

The real question isn't whether our child has a different opinion. It's this:

Is there room in our home for different opinions, while we still keep both love and boundaries?

If every time a child expresses a different opinion, the parents call it "disrespectful," "rebellious" or "unspiritual," what the child may finally learn isn't obedience. It's silence.

4. What children need most isn't parents who are always right

Many parents ask me, "So does that mean we have to agree with whatever our child says?"

Of course not.

Understanding isn't the same as agreeing. Accepting your child doesn't mean throwing out your principles.

Parents still need to say "no," still need to set boundaries, and still need to correct what's wrong.

But the order really matters:

Connect first, then correct. Understand first, then guide.

A child says, "I don't ever want to go to church again."

A parent's first reaction may be, "How can you say that?"

We could also say instead:

"It sounds like something happened lately that's left you really disappointed with church. Would you be willing to tell me about it?"

After we've listened, we can still talk about faith.

But now the child knows:

Mom and Dad want to understand my heart, not just correct my answer.

James 1:19 reminds us:

"Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath."

A lot of the time, parents aren't short on truth. We just speak the truth too fast, so fast that we haven't yet heard our child's real question.

5. The most powerful parents aren't the ones who never make mistakes, but the ones who are willing to repair the relationship

I often tell parents: don't be afraid to apologize to your child.

Some parents worry, "If I admit I was wrong, won't my child listen to me even less?"

Actually, it's just the opposite.

A father can say to his son:

"Dad spoke too harshly yesterday. I really am worried about your schoolwork, but I said it in anger, and that made you feel like you're no good. Dad was wrong in that part. I'm sorry."

Those words don't cancel the father's principles. He can still go on talking about schoolwork.

But he has done something very important:

He has repaired the relationship.

And what his son learns from it isn't just "Dad apologized."

He learns even more: when people make mistakes, they can take responsibility; love isn't about saving face; when a relationship breaks, it can be reconnected.

That in itself is a very deep kind of character education.

6. Christian parents especially need to remember: grace comes before change

Christian families put great weight on truth, and that's precious.

But we also need to remember: Jesus didn't come among us and wait to love us until after we had completely changed.

Romans 5:8 says:

"But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."

This is very deep parenting wisdom inside the gospel:

Love isn't a prize for a child's good behavior.

When our child does well on a test, we love them. When they fail it, we love them too.

When our child's faith is strong, we love them. When they go through doubt, we still walk alongside them.

When our child walks the road we hoped for, we love them. If one day they wander off, we still let them know where the door home is.

This doesn't mean there's no truth.

It's precisely because there is truth that we know:

Grace isn't indulgence. Grace is refusing to give up on a person, while standing in the truth.

7. A very brave question for parents

This week, I invite you moms and dads to find a relaxed moment and ask your child one question:

"Is there something I've done that I thought was loving you, but it made you feel pressured or not understood?"

Then please do something very hard:

Don't explain.

If your child says, "Every time you ask about my grades, I feel like grades are all you care about."

Don't say right away, "When have I ever only cared about grades? I do so much for you every day!"

All you need to say is:

"So that's how you feel. Thank you for telling me."

Then ask:

"What would you like me to do next time?"

Maybe your child's answer won't be completely fair. That's okay.

Our goal right now isn't to decide who's right and who's wrong. It's to step into our child's world.

Because when a child feels "Mom and Dad really do want to listen to me," many doors that were shut can finally open again.

Conclusion: Don't only ask "How much do I love my child?" Also ask "Has my child received it?"

One day, our children will grow up.

They may not remember how many things we bought them, or how many classes we signed them up for. They may not even remember how anxious we once were about their future.

But they may very well remember:

When I failed, did Mom sit down beside me?

When I was afraid, did Dad listen until I'd finished?

After I did wrong, was the door at home still open for me?

When I began to question life, question myself, even question my faith, did my parents tell me:

"You can ask. We'll search for answers together with you."

Of course a parent's love matters.

But the deeper layer of parenting is making sure that love can really be received by our children.

So maybe today we can ask one question less:

"How much have I given for my child?"

And ask one question more:

"How does my child experience my love?"

May our children one day look back on how they grew up and not only say, "My mom and dad loved me very much."

But be able to say:

"With them, I knew I was seen, understood and accepted. Even when I needed to be corrected, I never once doubted it: I was loved."

That may be the deepest and most lasting sense of security parents can leave their children.

——罗斌老师

What parents give out is love, but what children receive isn't always love. Mature parenting doesn't only ask, "Do I love my child?" It's also willing to ask, "How does my child experience my love?"