The room was cold and sterile.
It was January 2022 and I remember lying there, staring at the blank walls, wondering how I—a strong, capable, loving woman—had ended up in the hospital.
No accident had brought me here.
No sudden illness.
Just sheer exhaustion. Not the kind a nap could fix. The kind that hollowed me out and left me completely empty.
My doctor later named it: “This is a deep, soul-level type of exhaustion.”
And she was right. I hadn’t landed there overnight.
I had been unraveling for years—one yes at a time.
Maybe you know the feeling.
You love your child so much it aches.
You sacrifice, stretch, and give, because isn’t that what good parents do?
You don’t want them to feel deprived, or different, or unloved.
So you say yes when you should say no.
You bend when you want to stand. You surrender because you can’t bear the look of disappointment on their face.
Make no mistake: none of that makes you weak.
It makes you loving. It makes you human.
It makes you the kind of parent who would move mountains just to see your child smile.
The part I never said out loud
One of my children has mastered the art of persuasion. She knows how to turn no into maybe, and maybe into yes.
Her voice softens. Her face shifts. Her sweetness arrives at just the right moment to make me second-guess myself.
And I used to give in…again
And again.
And again.
I told myself it was easier.
I convinced myself that it was love.
But it wasn’t love. My love was being used as leverage.
And every time I confused the two, I lost a little more of myself—until there was almost nothing left.
That’s the trap.
The Manipulation Trap doesn’t mean you’ve failed as a parent. It means your love is running unchecked. And when it does:
Your yes becomes automatic.
Your no loses its weight.
Your child learns how to win, not how to grow.
When guilt and manipulation link arms, the drain is relentless.
What I’ve learned is this:
Love and boundaries are not opposites—they’re teammates. Boundaries are what keep your love from becoming a liability.
Saying no doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you believe your child can handle limits.
Holding firm doesn’t make you the villain. It makes you the steady anchor they need.
Boundaries aren’t rejection. They’re protection—for them, and for you.
Untrapped Moves for Parents
Pause before you fold. When charm or tears tug at your guilt, take a breath. That pause is your power.
Anchor the boundary in love. Try: “I love you too much to say yes to something that isn’t best for you.”
Close the gap. Align with co-parents or caregivers so your no can’t be undone.
Check your why. Ask: am I saying yes because it’s right—or because it’s easier?
Children don’t need parents who are easy to sway. They need parents who love them fiercely, but firmly.
Because when love becomes leverage, everyone loses. But when love is boundaried, it becomes the foundation of trust, safety, and strength.
Let’s Discuss
Have you ever found yourself saying yes when everything in you wanted to say no?
What would it look like to hold the line next time—with love and certainty?