When care turns into weakness

Sometimes love takes a form that quietly weakens the very person we want to protect.

I've been thinking a lot about what happens when care turns into indulgence, when the wish to make life easy for a child slowly takes away the struggles that help them grow.

Many parents, teachers and educators say they see two opposite patterns in children today.

Some are easily irritated, quick to anger, impatient.

Others seem tired, unmotivated, somehow empty inside.

I notice the same. And I believe one reason lies in how easily children in our culture are overindulged.

By indulgence, I don't mean love or closeness.

I mean when adults try to grant every wish, remove every effort, and protect children from any frustration.

It usually comes from love, but it can quietly take away something vital.

A child who never faces difficulty doesn't learn to handle frustration.

They miss the experience of trying, failing, learning, recovering.

They may grow up feeling like the center of attention but not really part of a community.

Alfred Adler already wrote about this connection. He saw that overindulged children don't form genuine self-confidence but insecurity, which later shows as withdrawal or defiance.

Rudolf Dreikurs and Erik Blumenthal expanded on this, describing how indulgent upbringing often leads to a sense of emptiness or the constant need for external approval.

Research confirms it.

A long-term study from the University of Munich found that children who were too often relieved of responsibility later struggled more with low motivation, social anxiety and depressive moods.

A study from Oslo in 2015 showed that indulgent, boundaryless parenting goes along with higher aggression, emotional instability and weaker self-regulation in adolescence.

Jean Twenge and her team pointed out years ago how, in many Western societies, patterns of over-admiration and constant wish-fulfilment can feed narcissistic tendencies.

When I travel in parts of Africa, I often see a very different kind of upbringing.

Children there are part of everyday life from early on.

They help, they take responsibility, they feel needed.

They don't get everything they want, but they know they matter.

And that seems to make them quietly strong.

What helps instead?

Let children take part. Give them real tasks and trust.

Allow frustration. Sadness, anger and disappointment are part of growing up.

Set boundaries with warmth. Sometimes a gentle no is the deepest yes to growth.

Focus on relationship, not reward. Children need connection more than praise.

And remember that how we deal with stress and setbacks teaches them more than any parenting advice ever could.

This isn't a judgment. It's an invitation to reflect.

To raise children with both love and courage.

With trust in their strength and with faith that even frustration can become part of their growing heart.

Sometimes love protects too much.

When we take away every struggle, every frustration, every little pain, we also take away the moments where strength grows.

A child who never has to try, never learns they can.

True care isn't about comfort. It's about helping a young heart discover its own courage.

Fari Khabirpour