The expression on my son’s face, coupled with the way he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip, told me he was suppressing a grin. Clearly, he was proud of himself. He nodded eagerly, spoke at all the right moments, and displayed a level of attentiveness and politeness that I had always encouraged.
Later, he shared his enthusiasm for this routine. “I love being such a good student! Especially during parent-teacher conferences when I receive so many compliments.” His words were sincere, not boastful. He was genuinely invested in the reward system his surroundings offered, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride, patting myself on the back for raising a child who is “a joy to have in the classroom.” My son diligently collected his gold stars, reveling in the praise.
But then a thought struck me: “Am I turning him into a praise addict?” It’s a question I’ve struggled with myself. Earlier that very day, I had been sitting alone, reading and reflecting on my own relationship with praise. While diving into Tara Mohr’s book Playing Big, I realized just how much I relied on positive feedback—and how that dependency might actually be hindering my growth. My son’s comments hit a sore spot I had already been wrestling with that day.
I’ve always been somewhat of a praise addict. As a child, I eagerly played the role of a responsible adult, learning to depend on approval to affirm my intelligence and worth. Throughout my academic career, I consistently earned high grades and commendations. In my professional life, I have a strong desire to be recognized and liked. It’s not merely a preference; it’s a necessity. Praise fuels my motivation.
I’ve willingly put in the effort with the unspoken understanding that success and approval would follow. A simple acknowledgment—a “Great job!” from a boss, a client, or even a compliment for chores done at home—serves as my motivation. I find myself checking social media for those coveted Likes and Hearts, constantly seeking reassurance.
Just the other day in a yoga class, while striving for the correct pose, I couldn’t help but think, “Does the instructor notice how well I’m doing?” When he called out, “Good job, Jamie,” it validated my efforts and made me feel accomplished.
It’s a problem, I know. Here I was, watching my bright, charming son tread the same path of approval-seeking behavior. Mohr points out that such tendencies can limit us more than we think. When we become “hooked on praise,” we risk allowing it to dictate our self-worth and abilities. To be genuine agents of change, we ought to “influence authority figures, not just please them.”
Reading Mohr’s insights made me acutely aware of how much work I needed to do to break free from these deeply embedded habits. Each chapter felt like a bitter pill I had to swallow, and I found myself resisting her criticisms of praise culture. That resistance was a clear sign: I need serious intervention.
So, what is a parent to do? I want to teach my children to respect themselves and others—teachers, peers, and adults alike. Unfortunately, respect often comes with praise for being well-mannered and considerate. My partner and I take great pride in our kids’ abilities to navigate various social settings.
However, I don’t want to create little praise-seeking machines. I don’t want them to chase after gold stars, only to discover years later that they too need to break free from a cycle of constant validation. How can we, as Mohr suggests, “unhook from praise” so that we’re not raising kids who depend on it in the real world? In an educational system that rewards achievement and good behavior, it’s crucial to ensure we aren’t inadvertently fostering approval addiction.
When my son mentioned how much he enjoyed the compliments, I found myself at a loss for words. It was one of those pivotal parenting moments where I felt the opportunity to impart wisdom, yet my mind went blank. Instead of saying anything, I remained silent. Here’s what I wish I had conveyed:
“My dear son, you are remarkable in countless ways. Your joy, empathy, and kindness shine through in all that you do. You possess a unique blend of humor and compassion that I hope you always cherish, as it defines you. You are not merely a collection of compliments; your worth is not determined by how others perceive you. I want you to strive for your best, but even more, I want you to embrace who you truly are, even when that feels challenging.”
To which he would probably have responded, “Can I have dessert?” Regardless of his understanding, my journey to overcome praise dependency must continue, with the hope that it will eventually yield positive results. With awareness, I believe we can strike a balance between acknowledging accomplishments and not letting them define us.
And even though I genuinely want you to tell me what a good job I’m doing as a parent, I’m no longer seeking your praise or feedback. Not anymore.
For additional insights on matters of parenting, check out Make a Mom’s Cryobaby at Home Insemination Kit, which provides fantastic resources and information. If you’re interested in pregnancy-related topics, the WHO offers invaluable insights that can be very helpful.
Summary
This article explores the impact of praise on children and the potential for creating “praise addicts” who rely on external validation. It reflects on the author’s personal experience with praise addiction and the importance of fostering self-worth in children beyond mere compliments.
Keyphrase: Praise addiction in parenting
Tags: [“home insemination kit” “home insemination syringe” “self insemination”]