Helping children develop a kinder, more encouraging inner voice.
Have you ever heard your child say something about themselves that makes your heart sink?
"I'm stupid." "Everyone else is better than me." "I always get things wrong."
Sometimes these words come tumbling out in a moment of frustration, perhaps when homework feels impossible, something hasn't gone to plan or they've compared themselves to a friend. At other times, we begin to notice that the same negative messages keep appearing, almost as though our child has started to believe them.
As parents, our natural instinct is to jump straight in with reassurance. We remind them of everything they're good at, tell them how wonderful they are or try to convince them that what they're saying simply isn't true. We can see their strengths, their abilities and all those lovely qualities that make them who they are, so it can be difficult to understand why they can't see those things for themselves.
Yet sometimes, despite our best efforts, the reassurance doesn't seem to reach them. They dismiss our words, argue with us or simply repeat what they were saying in the first place.
So, what's going on?
Where does that inner voice come from?
Children don't arrive in the world knowing how to talk to themselves about mistakes, disappointment or things they find difficult. Their inner voice develops over time, shaped by their experiences, the relationships around them and the messages they hear and absorb as they grow.
As parents, the language we use is part of that picture, although certainly not the whole story. Teachers, friendships, siblings, experiences at school and a child's own temperament all influence how they come to see themselves. For some children, particularly those who experience anxiety, learning differences or neurodivergence, the gap between what they want to achieve and what feels manageable can be especially difficult to navigate.
Imagine a child who regularly finds something harder than their peers. They might be putting in an enormous amount of effort, yet still feel as though they're falling behind. Over time, those experiences can begin to shape the story they tell themselves about who they are and what they're capable of.
What begins as "I'm finding this difficult" can gradually become "I'm no good at anything."
There's a significant difference between those two statements, and it's one worth paying attention to.
Why reassurance isn't always enough
When our children are upset, frustrated or disappointed, they aren't necessarily in a place where they can take on our well-intentioned reassurance. If a child genuinely believes they've failed, being told they're wonderful at something may feel completely at odds with what they've just experienced.
Think about how you feel when something has gone badly for you. If you're disappointed, embarrassed or frustrated, having someone immediately tell you that everything is fine doesn't always help. Sometimes you simply want somebody to recognise that things feel difficult.
Our children are no different.
Rather than rushing to correct what they're saying, we can begin by acknowledging what might be sitting underneath those words. Something as simple as, "You sound really disappointed. I know how much you wanted that to go differently," can help a child feel heard without us having to agree with their negative beliefs about themselves.
This is where connection becomes so important. When children feel listened to and understood, there may be more room for a conversation about what happened and how they might see things differently. That conversation doesn't always need to happen immediately, either. Sometimes the most helpful thing we can do is give them a little time and space, knowing that we're there when they're ready.
The conversations that happen around mistakes
One of the ways we can influence our children's inner voice is through the ordinary, everyday conversations we have when things don't go to plan.
Think about the moments when your child spills something, forgets their PE kit, loses a game or struggles with their schoolwork. These might seem like relatively small incidents in the bigger picture of family life, but they also provide opportunities for children to learn how to respond to themselves when things go wrong.
If our response focuses entirely on the mistake, the frustration or what they should have done differently, that can become part of the message they take away. When we acknowledge the difficulty while helping them think about what might happen next, we're offering another way of looking at the situation.
It's also worth noticing how we speak about ourselves, because our children are listening and learning from us, even when we don't realise it.
How often do we say things like "I'm so stupid" when we've forgotten something, or "I always get things wrong" when we've made a mistake? These are expressions many of us use without giving them much thought, yet they can also become familiar ways of talking about ourselves.
We don't need to get this right all the time, and I certainly wouldn't want parents to feel they have to monitor every word that comes out of their mouths. In fact, showing children how we recover from mistakes can be far more useful than trying to model perfection.
"I'm really frustrated that I've got that wrong. I'll have another look and see what I can do differently."
It's a small shift in language, but one that shows our children that mistakes are something we experience, rather than something that defines us.
Helping children find their own words
Building confidence isn't about convincing children that they're brilliant at everything or protecting them from every difficult experience. It's about helping them develop a sense that they can face challenges, ask for help, make mistakes and still feel secure in who they are.
When a child tells us they can't do something, we don't always need to rush in with a solution or a positive statement. We can become curious about what they're experiencing and what has led them to that conclusion.
"What feels particularly difficult about it?"
"Has something happened that's made you feel this way?"
"What do you think might help?"
These conversations give children opportunities to explore their own thinking, rather than simply being given a different way to think by somebody else. Of course, there will be times when they're not ready to talk, and that's fine too. Our job isn't to turn every difficult moment into a learning opportunity.
Sometimes, sitting alongside them, acknowledging their feelings and reminding them through our actions that they're loved and accepted, regardless of how things have gone, is exactly what they need.
Over time, those repeated experiences of being listened to, understood and supported can contribute to the way children begin to speak to themselves. They start to learn that finding something difficult doesn't mean they're incapable, that mistakes don't make them a failure and that their worth isn't dependent on how well they've performed.
I think that's an important distinction for us to hold on to as parents.
The goal isn't for our children to feel confident all the time. It's for them to know that even when their confidence disappears, their worth hasn't changed.
That's something we can help them learn through the many ordinary conversations and moments of connection that make up family life.
