Brené Brown has spoken of a term that beautifully captures a pervasive yet often unspoken dynamic in our relationships: “candle-blower-outers.” These are the people who, intentionally or not, snuff out the light of others—their enthusiasm, creativity, and mental well-being. We would have all experienced candle-blower-outers at some point in our lives.
And sometimes, heartbreakingly, parents can be these candle-blower-outers for their own children.
We all want what’s best for our kids. But in our attempts to guide and protect them, do we inadvertently extinguish their light?
This “light” represents mental health, self-worth, and the spark of individuality–all inextricable from the other. Think of a child bursting with creative energy, eager to share their latest drawing, only to be met with critique instead of encouragement. Or a teenager excited about an unconventional career path, who’s told it’s impractical or unrealistic. We adults would know this to be a pervasive, almost universal experience, told to us by the adults who came before us–perhaps in harsher terms reflective of the times we would’ve been in.
These seemingly minor moments can accumulate into a powerful force of discouragement. They dim this light within our children, leading them to doubt their abilities and worth. It’s not easy to make decisions based solely on another’s well-being, even if it is your child, but sit with the knowledge that:
Knowing this won’t necessarily make decisions easier, but it will make the right path clearer–what would things look like if every decision we make as parents were aimed at protecting this light? What kind of world–inner and outer–could we create for our children?
The concept of protecting a child’s light can be applied to many aspects of parenting. Whether it’s handling school pressures, navigating social dynamics, or encouraging hobbies and interests, the principle remains the same: decisions should be made with the impact on the child’s mental and emotional well-being in mind.
Children whose lights are regularly blown out by critical or dismissive responses often grow into adults who struggle with self-esteem and confidence. They may internalise the belief that their ideas and efforts aren’t valuable, which in turn impacts their mental health and overall well-being. This stretches into something more foundational too–the danger of these morphing into skewed and unhelpful core beliefs during a developmentally sensitive time gives rise to a precariously built sense of self.
Often, it can come from good intentions. As parents, we can sometimes succumb to the trap of projecting our fears of failure and our ideas of ‘realism’ onto our kids in a bid to protect them, whether it’s discouraging them from doing something they love, or encouraging them to push themselves harder at something they don’t. What we don’t realise is that we can end up limiting them instead; a paradox. And ultimately placing them in the backseat of their own lives is that which endangers this light in such a way.
Consider a child bursting with creative energy, eager to share their latest drawing, only to be met with a critique instead of encouragement. Or one who loves to sing but is told to “keep it down” because their singing is too loud or off-key. Or one who’s simply passionate about a particular hobby, like collecting insects or building with LEGO, only to be told that it’s a waste of time. Or a teenager excited about an unconventional career path, who’s told it’s impractical or unrealistic. Their face falls, and just like that, their enthusiasm dims a little.
These moments, seemingly minor, can accumulate into a force of discouragement that becomes harder to shake the more deeply rooted it becomes–and deeply rooted it does become, the more they are met with dismissiveness to their aspirations. It becomes learned behaviour and their internal voice. They dim the light within, leading them to doubt their abilities and overall worth, while building unrealistic ideas of failure, and an avoidant disposition toward it to boot. Another risk is one of extinguishing their mental health with pressures of achievement.
We do live in a time where the idea of careful consideration of our language and approach toward children can be easily dismissed as coddling or hypersensitivity. Protecting a child’s light doesn’t mean avoiding all criticism or indulging every whim. It’s about being more conscious of building an environment where they feel safe to express themselves, make mistakes, and grow. It means offering constructive feedback that builds rather than destroys, and supporting their dreams while providing realistic guidance.
As parents, guardians, and educators, we wield tremendous power in shaping our kids’ mental and emotional landscapes. After all, we teach these values to our children, too: of being kind and considerate, and to help build others up, or at least, leave people better than when they found them. Words have power. Our words and actions, especially, can either fuel their light or dim it. When faced with decisions—whether about discipline, wellbeing, education, or daily interactions—we need to ask ourselves: are we protecting this light? Are we putting their wellbeing first, however that might look like?
Imagine a child who feels supported in their artistic endeavours, even if their drawings aren’t perfect. What happens here is that they learn to value creativity and see mistakes as part of the process. Or a teenager who’s encouraged to explore their passion, knowing their parents believe in their potential. These children go on to carry a strong, resilient light into adulthood, empowered by the knowledge that their worth is not contingent on perfection. What kind of confidence and resilience could we inspire in them from this?
Our approach at Imagine If aligns with this consideration. We believe in nurturing each child’s unique light, which respects and celebrates individuality. Rather than imposing values of rigidity and a mindset of lack that stifle creativity, self-belief, and autonomy, we focus on empowering learners to explore, question, and grow in their own ways. We act with this thought in mind: what kind of beliefs are we instilling in them about themselves?
So we reiterate this guiding question to illuminate the way: are we protecting their light? This mindset shift won’t eliminate challenges, but it will help us prioritise what truly matters in the long run. Above all, a child’s light is simply a precious thing, unique to them and something the world needs for all of its individuality. It deserves to be nurtured, protected and celebrated. This light goes on to blaze its fullest, most brilliant path, and the world becomes a brighter place for it. Or, it would be even brighter if we all committed to doing our part to make it an even more colourful, luminous one.