ed their truth to be acknowledged.

I also believe that admitting and apologizing for the ways, both large and small, in which we fail them is valuable. By doing so we validate their feelings, take responsibility for our own actions and expose our own vulnerability to them, which conveys love and trust.

In doing so, we provide our children with some of the resources they need if they are to become truly resilient.

Our children don’t need us to be perfect. Yes, they need us to be good enough, but they are generally prepared to set the bar far lower than we might do for ourselves. They are more likely to judge us by our intentions than our results, provided we are honest and respectful with them.

Maybe your own experience of childhoo

One of the questions I often get asked is this: “I am doing my best to stay in an abusive relationship for the sake of the children. My husband says that our children are not affected by our fights. I worry that they are. Who is right?” Sadly, the wife is.

Children may be resilient. They are not insensitive.

You may try to hide what goes on in an abusive relationship from your children, or you may try to minimize it. Not only will they register what they see or sense, they will also feel isolated by the dishonesty that is being practiced in the hope of ‘protecting’ them.

Denial, which is slightly different from minimization doesn’t work either. “He may have said a lot of horrible things, but he doesn’t mean them” will not convince a child; although it will undermine a child’s sense of reality.

Nor does explanation make it any better. “He had a difficult childhood’ is neither emotionally convincing nor useful. Especially if you want your children to grow up taking responsibility for their own behaviour.

Children do have extraordinary powers of resilience. All of us do. But it is much easier for children to access those powers if they meet with honesty and respect for their feelings.

Children learn what they live. When they live in a situation in which their feelings are denied, even for the best of reasons, they learn that their feelings are unimportant. That belief which beds down in their belief system and becomes a given or fact may leave them vulnerable to abusers for the rest of their life. At the very least it leaves them vulnerable, until they learn to uproot it.

Years ago when my daughter was quite small she came to me one day and said: “I’ll never have children.” She sounded terribly upset but her 6 year old mind was definitely made up. I felt pretty uncomfortable. Our home life was strained. I tried to present a fa?ade of normality to her, but maybe this was a reaction.

Sometimes I can be like a dog with a bone. I started asking her why she had made her decision. Eventually it came out that she’d been told, in the playground, that in order to have a baby your whole tummy had to be unzipped and she was scared.

Had I dismissed her fear and her decision, she might have got over it. Equally, she might not have. Over the years she might have forgotten how that fear came about, but known that, for her, having children was too terrifying an option to contemplate. That’s what happens. We pick up a ragbag of diverse notions over the years that take root in our unconscious as powerful limiting beliefs.

Beliefs that children see acted out most days in their home, without any credible explanation other than the sense they can make for themselves, become incredibly damaging and deep-rooted.

When they live in a situation that is less than ideal but their feelings are honoured at least by one parent, they stand a far better chance. They can cope with parental fallibility, provided that fallibility is acknowledged.

Children need their truth to be acknowledged.

I also believe that admitting and apologizing for the ways, both large and small, in which we fail them is valuable. By doing so we validate their feelings, take responsibility for our own actions and expose our own vulnerability to them, which conveys love and trust.

In doing so, we provide our children with some of the resources they need if they are to become truly resilient.

Our children don’t need us to be perfect. Yes, they need us to be good enough, but they are generally prepared to set the bar far lower than we might do for ourselves. They are more likely to judge us by our intentions than our results, provided we are honest and respectful with them.

Maybe your own experience of childhood

child; although it will undermine a child’s sense of reality.

Nor does explanation make it any better. “He had a difficult childhood’ is neither emotionally convincing nor useful. Especially if you want your children to grow up taking responsibility for their own behaviour.

Children do have extraordinary powers of resilience. All of us do. But it is much easier for children to access those powers if they meet with honesty and respect for their feelings.

Children learn what they live. When they live in a situation in which their feelings are denied, even for the best of reasons, they learn that their feelings are unimportant. That belief which beds down in their belief system and becomes a given or fact may leave them vulnerable to abusers for the rest of their life. At the very least it leaves them vulnerable, until they learn to uproot it.

Years ago when my daughter was quite small she came to me one day and said: “I’ll never have children.” She sounded terribly upset but her 6 year old mind was definitely made up. I felt pretty uncomfortable. Our home life was strained. I tried to present a fa?ade of normality to her, but maybe this was a reaction.

Sometimes I can be like a dog with a bone. I started asking her why she had made her decision. Eventually it came out that she’d been told, in the playground, that in order to have a baby your whole tummy had to be unzipped and she was scared.

Had I dismissed her fear and her decision, she might have got over it. Equally, she might not have. Over the years she might have forgotten how that fear came about, but known that, for her, having children was too terrifying an option to contemplate. That’s what happens. We pick up a ragbag of diverse notions over the years that take root in our unconscious as powerful limiting beliefs.

Beliefs that children see acted out most days in their home, without any credible explanation other than the sense they can make for themselves, become incredibly damaging and deep-rooted.

When they live in a situation that is less than ideal but their feelings are honoured at least by one parent, they stand a far better chance. They can cope with parental fallibility, provided that fallibility is acknowledged.

Children need their truth to be acknowledged.

I also believe that admitting and apologizing for the ways, both large and small, in which we fail them is valuable. By doing so we validate their feelings, take responsibility for our own actions and expose our own vulnerability to them, which conveys love and trust.

In doing so, we provide our children with some of the resources they need if they are to become truly resilient.

Our children don’t need us to be perfect. Yes, they need us to be good enough, but they are generally prepared to set the bar far lower than we might do for ourselves. They are more likely to judge us by our intentions than our results, provided we are honest and respectful with them.

Maybe your own experience of childhoo

users for the rest of their life. At the very least it leaves them vulnerable, until they learn to uproot it.

Years ago when my daughter was quite small she came to me one day and said: “I’ll never have children.” She sounded terribly upset but her 6 year old mind was definitely made up. I felt pretty uncomfortable. Our home life was strained. I tried to present a fa?ade of normality to her, but maybe this was a reaction.

Sometimes I can be like a dog with a bone. I started asking her why she had made her decision. Eventually it came out that she’d been told, in the playground, that in order to have a baby your whole tummy had to be unzipped and she was scared.

Had I dismissed her fear and her decision, she might have got over it. Equally, she might not have. Over the years she might have forgotten how that fear came about, but known that, for her, having children was too terrifying an option to contemplate. That’s what happens. We pick up a ragbag of diverse notions over the years that take root in our unconscious as powerful limiting beliefs.

Beliefs that children see acted out most days in their home, without any credible explanation other than the sense they can make for themselves, become incredibly damaging and deep-rooted.

When they live in a situation that is less than ideal but their feelings are honoured at least by one parent, they stand a far better chance. They can cope with parental fallibility, provided that fallibility is acknowledged.

Children need their truth to be acknowledged.

I also believe that admitting and apologizing for the ways, both large and small, in which we fail them is valuable. By doing so we validate their feelings, take responsibility for our own actions and expose our own vulnerability to them, which conveys love and trust.

In doing so, we provide our children with some of the resources they need if they are to become truly resilient.

Our children don’t need us to be perfect. Yes, they need us to be good enough, but they are generally prepared to set the bar far lower than we might do for ourselves. They are more likely to judge us by our intentions than our results, provided we are honest and respectful with them.

Maybe your own experience of childhoo

Equally, she might not have. Over the years she might have forgotten how that fear came about, but known that, for her, having children was too terrifying an option to contemplate. That’s what happens. We pick up a ragbag of diverse notions over the years that take root in our unconscious as powerful limiting beliefs.

Beliefs that children see acted out most days in their home, without any credible explanation other than the sense they can make for themselves, become incredibly damaging and deep-rooted.

When they live in a situation that is less than ideal but their feelings are honoured at least by one parent, they stand a far better chance. They can cope with parental fallibility, provided that fallibility is acknowledged.

Children need their truth to be acknowledged.

I also believe that admitting and apologizing for the ways, both large and small, in which we fail them is valuable. By doing so we validate their feelings, take responsibility for our own actions and expose our own vulnerability to them, which conveys love and trust.

In doing so, we provide our children with some of the resources they need if they are to become truly resilient.

Our children don’t need us to be perfect. Yes, they need us to be good enough, but they are generally prepared to set the bar far lower than we might do for ourselves. They are more likely to judge us by our intentions than our results, provided we are honest and respectful with them.

Maybe your own experience of childhoo

ed their truth to be acknowledged.

I also believe that admitting and apologizing for the ways, both large and small, in which we fail them is valuable. By doing so we validate their feelings, take responsibility for our own actions and expose our own vulnerability to them, which conveys love and trust.

In doing so, we provide our children with some of the resources they need if they are to become truly resilient.

Our children don’t need us to be perfect. Yes, they need us to be good enough, but they are generally prepared to set the bar far lower than we might do for ourselves. They are more likely to judge us by our intentions than our results, provided we are honest and respectful with them.

Maybe your own experience of childhood was one of hurt, anger and frustration because your feelings were disregarded by your parents. If that was the case, it may be hard to believe that your children are willing to put their love and trust in the fallible being that you are. Give them that opportunity honestly and consistently and they will. It may well be the most healing option for them and for you.

(C) 2006 Annie Kaszina