Damn You, Naomi Wolf
The Role Self-Love and Self-Acceptance Play in Raising Confident Kids
When my girls were small, I came across Dr Naomi Wolf’s quote, “A mother who radiates self-love and self-acceptance vaccinates her daughter against low self-esteem,” and it struck me deeply. Even back then, I knew that if I wanted my daughters to grow into confident, resilient women, I needed to model that for them.
So, I crafted a goal. I envisioned myself walking into rooms and commanding attention just by my presence. I believed that if I exuded confidence—if I could make myself big enough, noticeable enough, perfect enough—my daughters would somehow absorb that strength. I saw self-love as something I could create and project outward, something that would ooze from my pores and fill the space around me.
I was consumed by this external quest—throwing perfect parties, surrounding myself with influential people, and trying to live up to some unattainable standard. But in trying to stand out, I was shrinking, diminishing under the weight of my own expectations.
What I failed to understand is that true radiance has nothing to do with the external and everything to do with who we are internally. What we project to the outside world is simply a byproduct of our inner state. I spent years chasing an external reflection without doing the internal work, and it left me hollow. Nurturing myself and those around me isn’t a predetermined target but an ongoing, constantly changing, always evolving process.
We Never Arrive
When we’re parenting, we often feel like we’re supposed to already be—to have all the answers, to have arrived at some final destination where we know everything and doubt nothing. But if life has taught me anything, it’s that no one has arrived. Life is messy. Parenting is chaotic. Every day is a new challenge. If we’re really living it, life is a never-ending series of unique experiences, constantly throwing things at us that force us to show up without the answers.
Every day, we step into uncharted territory with often very little experience with what’s to come. And our kids? They’ve never been this age before, and we’ve never been parents to them at this age before. We’re all figuring it out as we go, and the sooner we accept that, the sooner we can let go of this ridiculous idea that we need to be perfect role models.
We’ve all been there—that brief moment when everything seems to be clicking, and we tempt the parenting gods by thinking, 'I’ve finally figured this out,' only to be knocked off our pedestal and flat on our ass by the next unpredictable challenge.
True confession: Most days, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, and I’m totally fine with it. As nice as it sounds to have everything all figured out, how boring would that be?
If I had already arrived at some perfect version of myself, my daughters wouldn’t see the messy, bare realities of my growth. And they wouldn’t know how to confront and contend with their own insecurities and challenges because they’d be too busy pretending they had none alongside their fake and fraudulent mother.
Our children don’t need us to be some rock-solid image of confidence and self-assuredness. What they need is to see us content in our trying.
They need to hear us acknowledge our areas for growth. They must witness us occasionally falling on our face and getting back up again. Those are the lessons that have real value—not the false confidence, not the lie of ‘having it all figured out,’ but the gritty truth of resilience and adaptability.
Know Thyself
If we’re going to model anything for our kids, let it be this: know thyself. Our blind spots are our greatest weaknesses, and ignorance is far from bliss when it comes to parenting.
The more deeply we understand ourselves, the more deeply we can know and connect with others—especially our children. They don’t need us to be perfect; they need us to see them and feel known by us. But that connection can only happen when we’re willing to look in the mirror and be brutally honest about who we are, flaws and all.
When we start by knowing ourselves, we can see our children in their totality, beyond our expectations or projections. Our kids crave that understanding. They want to be known and accepted for who they are. If we’re too busy conveying perfection or avoiding our truths, we miss the chance to really know them—and for them to see us honestly.
Be Bold
I spent much of my childhood on the basketball court, where every 40-minute game began with the gift of five fouls. When the final buzzer rang at the end of each game, the number of fouls next to my name in the scorebook was a clear reflection of how much I’d contributed to the game and my team. If I walked off the court at the end of the fourth quarter with one, maybe two, it was an undeniable sign that I hadn’t been playing hard enough—I wasn’t pushing the limits. And equally important, if I headed into the locker room at halftime with four, it meant I was playing undisciplined.
We need to teach our kids the importance of fouling. Fouling means we’re invested—it shows we’re pushing boundaries, testing ourselves, and challenging those around us. And just like in basketball, in life, fouling means we’re showing up. But it’s not just about taking risks for the sake of it; it’s about knowing when fouling is necessary or advantageous. A well-timed foul can change the course of the game, and our kids need to understand that strategy. It’s not about being reckless; it’s about being bold enough to take calculated risks, make mistakes, and know when to push the limits.
Even today, when I play it too safe in life, my dad will remind me, "Don’t be afraid to foul." That’s all he has to say, and I am immediately motivated to lean in and be bold.
Be Consistent
There’s no greater gift we can give our kids than consistency. Consistency builds trust. When we show up as the same person, day in and day out, we provide them with the safe, stable presence they need to feel secure and know they can rely on us.
But here’s the secret: consistency doesn’t have anything to do with perfection—it means being real. When we live honestly—without switching masks depending on the room we’re in—life becomes a lot easier for us and them. Our kids aren’t left wondering who they’ll encounter on any given day or situation; they know we’re solid, reliable, and true to who we are.
Living in alignment with ourselves also attracts the right people, while those who aren’t meant for us will naturally drift away. No more masks, no more confusion. Consistency opens the door for genuine connection, both with our kids and the world around us.
Being consistent also models emotional grounding for our kids. When we are steady in who we are, we give them the freedom to feel safe enough to explore who they are, knowing they can always return to a place of stability and love.
Take Care of Your Crap
Here’s the part we so often pay lip service to but rarely do the dirty work: when we don’t deal with our emotional baggage, we pass it on to our kids. We may do it slowly. And we may do it subtly. But it will happen.
No matter how smart or sneaky we think we are, our unresolved issues—traumas, insecurities, fears—never stay hidden. They seep into our relationships, shaping how we parent. Kids may not have the words to articulate what’s happening, but they feel it and are often deeply affected by it. Without realizing it, we place the weight of our unaddressed baggage onto them, asking them to carry what was never theirs to bear.
Owning our baggage doesn’t mean we’ve figured it out. It means we’re taking full responsibility for what is ours, and we’re working through it. By doing that, we free our kids to grow into their own selves.
The Power Is in the Process
Our parental superpower isn’t obtained by reaching some perfect state of being—it comes from the daily act of showing up, fully human and flawed, committed to the work of becoming.
When we do this, resilience, authenticity, and the quiet confidence our kids need to witness naturally radiate. And as a result, we become proof, reflecting that their worth is rooted in the journey itself, not in reaching a final destination.
Fabulous post, Erin. Good for all of us, children or no children, to remember.
I love all of this. Our children need to see us fowling.
Well done I remember a very long time ago being concerned that my little three-year-old at the time saw me and her dad have a brutal fight, not physical, but with words. I was loudest and I dropped her off at preschool and I had a moment to speak to her, her teacher , and she said, “the best thing you can do is to let her see how you try to make up.”
That is always stayed with me in everything because before I became a parent, of course I thought I knew everything. Lol parenting is the hardest job in the world and most humbling - muscle building, unpredictable, never ending, exciting and essential job in the world. Thank you for this wonderful essay.