By the time your child turns 7, their nervous system has already absorbed a blueprint of how safe it feels to be themselves.

Their voice, their sense of worth, their ability to take up space in this world, it’s all forming right now.

This is not just a poetic idea. It’s neuroscience.

As a therapist, I’ve sat with countless adults trying to untangle the beliefs they never consciously chose.

As a mother, I know the quiet heartbreak of watching your child struggle with emotions that are too big for their little body, and realizing how much your own presence shapes the safety they feel inside themselves.

Let me walk you through this:

At Ages 0–2:

Your baby doesn’t understand words yet, but they understand tone. Energy. Presence.

They feel your love through eye contact, touch, and how you hold them when they cry.

Ages 2–7:

This is the stage when their brain absorbs information like a sponge. Not just what you say, but what you model.

They internalize your reactions. Your tone when they make mistakes. The way you look at them when they’re upset.

They’re not analyzing. They’re downloading. Everything.

Ages 7–11:

This is when those early impressions become identity.

They begin repeating your words, your reactions, not as thoughts, but as truth.

And by now, their beliefs are shaping how they respond to school, friends, challenges, and even their own emotions.

After 11?

The window of unquestioned absorption begins to close.

They stop taking in new truths as easily.

They start living out the ones they already absorbed, often without realizing it.

So when your 8-year-old says:

 “I’m not good at anything.”

 “Nobody likes me.”

 “I’m just not smart enough.”

They’re not being dramatic.

They’re revealing the self-concept their nervous system has quietly locked in.

Pay attention to that. Even if that hurts you. Of course it does. But don’t ignore it. It’s not too late to correct that.

And here’s what really hurts:

You might not notice how deep that belief goes until they’re 17… people-pleasing to survive.

Or 21… drowning in anxiety they can’t name.

Or 31… sitting in therapy, trying to untangle who they are from what they were taught.

They don’t need “tough love.”

They don’t need you to push them harder, or ignore their feelings so they grow thicker skin.

What they need is you.

Your presence.

Your emotional attunement.

Your ability to sit with their big feelings and show them: “You’re not too much. I’ve got you.”

And they need something else too, something simple but powerful: your words.

Because here’s the truth:

Your voice becomes their voice.

The way you speak to them becomes the way they speak to themselves for the rest of their life.

If your child hears:

“You’re difficult.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

They learn shame.

But if your child hears:

“I see how hard you’re trying.”

“It’s okay to feel what you feel.”

“You don’t have to be perfect to be loved.”

They learn compassion.

They build resilience.

They grow with an inner voice that lifts them, not one that breaks them.

That’s why praise matters. But not empty praise.

Not “you’re the best” in every moment.

But true, meaningful recognition of who they are, not just what they do.

Try this:

“I love how kind you were to your friend.”

“I saw how brave you were, even if it felt hard.”

“You are loved just for being you, even on your messy days.”

That’s the kind of praise that builds identity.

That’s what becomes their internal foundation:

“I am kind. I am enough. I am loved.”

And I promise you, as a mother and a therapist, there is no greater gift you can offer your child than that.

Reflection for Parents:

– What messages is my child internalizing from the way I speak to them?

– How did my own childhood shape the way I offer (or withhold) praise?

– What’s one affirmation I can start repeating to my child, every day?

It’s never too late to become the voice your child will carry with them for life. Let it be one of love, safety, and truth.

May your words become their safe place.

May your eyes remind them they are seen.

May your presence teach them they are enough, even when they fall apart.

May the way you speak to them become the voice that carries them through life.

And may you remember:

It’s not perfection they need.

It’s your love, your gentleness,

And the quiet power of being fully there.

With much love,🤍

Aniela

www.MindfulTherapist.us