Today, while chatting with a friend who was asking me for some advice on starting homeschooling, I managed to articulate an idea that had been in my head for a long time, but I hadn't been able to put into words.
When it comes to parenting, to mothering, which is what I'm passionate about, there are many voices from influencers or experts out there that trigger an instant internal rejection in me. Deep down, I could never articulate why, even though they express the same concepts of conscious parenting or seeking the best for our children, free from inherited patterns...
Today I discovered that it's not what they say, but how they say it. All these voices appeal to fear to drive you toward something: “The devastating consequences of screen time for children,” “How a father's absence leaves a permanent mark,” “The mistakes you're making without knowing it that damage your child's self-esteem”... You know the kind of message I'm talking about, right?
That exact feeling of constant urgency, as if every decision were irreversible, as if there were a perfect formula that, if you don't follow to the letter, will doom your children's future. I can't help but reject that emotional manipulation disguised as “valuable information.”
I remember a time when a mom wrote to me after reading one of those articles about boundaries: “Yendi, I think I've already ruined everything. My son is 8 years old and I just realized I've been doing everything wrong.” That sentence broke my heart, because you know what? That woman hadn't ruined anything. She was a loving, conscious mother who was simply learning – like all of us.
That's when I understood something crucial: fear paralyzes, but trust transforms. When a mother acts from the terror of “not doing it right,” that anxiety is transmitted directly to her children. Ironically, those messages that promise to “protect” children's well-being end up creating more anxious mothers and, therefore, more tense family environments.
I don't want to appeal to a mother's fear – a mother who is already carrying enough guilt – to push her toward a specific action. I want her to find peace on her journey knowing that she is doing the best she can and that every day she learns something new.
My philosophy is simple: supporting from trust instead of parenting from fear. Because a mother at peace raises children at peace. And that peace doesn't come from doing everything “perfectly” – it comes from knowing you're supported, from trusting your intuition, and from understanding that conscious love is a process, not a destination you reach once and for all.
Every time I write or talk with a mother, there's a question that guides everything I say: how do I want her to feel when she finishes reading me or when our call ends? I want her to take a deep breath. To feel that she's okay where she is. To know that she doesn't have to be perfect to be an excellent mother. I want her to leave with tools, yes, but above all with the certainty that she already has everything she needs inside her to care for and love her children.
Because at the end of the day, it's not about following the right formula. It's about connecting with yourself so you can genuinely connect with them.