This is a photo of my girls a few years back By Liza

This is a photo of my girls a few years back. It’s on my wallpaper – Every time I look at my phone I am reminded of their Authentic nature. They were free to be—wild, wondrous, wholly themselves. I held space for their dreaming, their creating, their weaving of worlds—anchored always in the quiet strength of discipline. Authenticity was the soil; structure, the roots.

The last few days have stirred something deep in me.
I’ve witnessed moments—subtle and stark—that made me pause and reflect:
How do we speak to our children?
How do we raise them?
How do our words, our wounds, our expectations shape their inner world?

Unhappy children bully.
Wounded children bully.
Not because they’re cruel, but because they’re carrying what we’ve handed them—our projections, our pain, our unmet dreams.

They live in a world we’ve constructed for them.
They try to live up to the expectations we place upon their shoulders.
But are we truly allowing them to dream?
To create with our support?
Or are we moulding them into versions of ourselves—into what we think they should be?

Are we loving them unconditionally?
Or are we unconsciously asking them to carry our emotional weight?

This reflection is not a judgment—it’s a call to remembrance.
To raise children with reverence.
To become guardians of their frequency, not architects of their suppression.

Let’s be honest.
If we raise our children without emotional integrity, we risk shaping them into wounded adults who bully, belittle, and perpetuate harm.
Not because they’re “bad”—but because we laid bricks of shame, sarcasm, gossip, and projection into the foundation of their being.

Children absorb everything.
Our tone. Our silence. Our judgments. Our unresolved pain.
They become what we model—not what we preach.

Having children is not a duty. It’s a gift.
And if we’re paying attention, we’ll realize: they are our teachers.

So what do children truly need?

✨ Love that knows no division
✨ Acceptance of their full being
✨ Discipline that feels like safety, not punishment
✨ Silence where gossip would wound
✨ Words that build, not break
✨ Boundaries that protect, not control
✨ Presence that says: You are seen. You are safe. You are loved.

Even when life is hard.
Even when their world feels broken.
They need to know they are held.

Because the love of a caregiver is not just emotional—it’s neurological, spiritual, foundational.
It shapes their trust, their self-worth, their ability to relate, to learn, to lead.

So yes—let’s raise children who aren’t little assholes.
But let’s start by healing the parts of ourselves that still are.
Let’s become the living transmission of love, respect, and discernment.
Let’s build foundations that hold, not fracture.

The world doesn’t need more wounded adults in tiny bodies.
It needs guardians of frequency.
It needs us.