I observe him standing next to his younger brother, who is having a full-blown tantrum over the bagel I just handed him. I had intended to cut it into quarters, not halves (how did I overlook that?!). As I attempt to soothe him, encouraging him to take a breath and articulate his feelings — explaining that if he could just pause the screaming, we could discuss a solution for the bagel — my older son stands there, composed, gazing at the floor with a subtle smile.
Just a few months ago, he would have joined in the chaos, covering his ears and shouting at his brother to “stooooop!” Or, during particularly challenging moments, he might have told him to “shut up!” which only escalated the situation, leaving me with two children to manage. Instead, he stands there, calm as can be, and when I begin to explain to my younger son that cutting it into quarters is entirely feasible if he would just stop thrashing, my older son chimes in, “Yeah, Mommy can fix it,” with an even-tempered, supportive tone that exudes maturity.
It brings tears to my eyes. Not long ago, he would be the one on the floor, wailing over how I’d sliced his toast or getting upset about the color of the sippy cup. His outbursts were intense; he would scream until little blotches appeared under his eyes, kicking his legs in frustration and crafting elaborate arguments to justify his feelings. Some of them were remarkably convincing. My strong-willed son, my spirited child, the one who never accepted “no” for an answer.
Traditional discipline methods had little effect on him. Distractions were futile; he was too fixated on the source of his distress. If I tried to move him to another room for a “time out” or “cool down,” it only intensified his upset. At times, his screams were so loud, I feared the neighbors would call for help.
I consulted books and sought advice, but ultimately followed my instincts. I would sit with him, strive to remain calm, and wait for the storm to pass. Eventually, he would collapse into my lap, sobbing, and we could communicate. Over the years, we improved at handling those meltdowns. It took much trial and error, along with moments of feeling utterly lost, but we discovered what he needed during those overwhelming episodes.
This summer, he reached 9 ½ years old. Not quite a child, not yet a teenager. He has grown taller; his features more defined. While his tenacity remains, he has learned to temper it. He is now able to take that extra breath I have encouraged him to take for years, the one that prevents him from losing control when things don’t go as planned.
I want him to know that I recognize his growth, both inside and out. I see the remarkable individual he is becoming. He understands that maturity is a powerful and admirable trait. He embraces it, just as he has always embraced every aspect of himself.
Everyone told me that raising a strong-willed child was a blessing, that he would one day be a leader, a confident individual, a visionary. He displayed intelligence and wisdom beyond his years. Yet, I struggled to believe that our challenges would ever ease or that this tumultuous journey would lead to something brilliant.
But I held onto the hope that it would. At times, that belief was the only thing that kept me going through the most difficult moments.
I genuinely think we’re nearly there. I believe we’ve made it, he and I. But I attribute this progress to him. It was never his fault that his emotions ran so deep. That was simply his nature; someone who felt everything profoundly, with complex thoughts and opinions about the world — from concepts of justice to how our daily plans should unfold. Yet, he was confined within a small body, and those deep emotions were often too much for him to manage.
My dear son, I apologize for the moments I lost my composure with you. I regret the times I still do. I also want to preemptively apologize for the ways I may lose my patience during your teenage years. Those years will arrive sooner than we anticipate, presenting us with a fresh set of challenges.
But I am confident we will navigate through it. We have the experience and the trust we’ve built over these years. This trust is forged from shared struggles — a bond I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Most importantly, I want you to know that regardless of the challenges that lie ahead, I see you here and now. I am incredibly proud of the child you are becoming and the man you will eventually be. I can see that future version of you in your eyes, in the way you smile knowingly at me as your brother experiences his outburst. You rest a steady, reassuring hand on his shoulder, telling him that everything will be alright.
The truth is, I have loved you through all your stages of growth. Even when each day felt like a marathon, I often marveled at the fire within your heart. You only become more remarkable with age; that fire has transformed into a radiant light, guiding you toward a vibrant and fulfilling life.
Thank you for providing me with hope, for demonstrating that all I needed to do was my best, trust my instincts, and love you unconditionally. And I do; I love you so deeply.
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In summary, raising a strong-willed child can present unique challenges, but it also offers immense rewards. As children grow and learn to manage their emotions, the bond between parent and child deepens, fostering mutual understanding and respect.
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