Raising Confidence: Simple, Intentional Ways to Help Kids Shine

Raising ConfidenceJaune

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Cooking With Flair

Raising Confidence: Simple, Intentional Ways to Help Kids Shine

If there’s one thing that makes me burst with pride, it’s watching my kids walk into a room like they own the place. And I don’t mean “quiet confidence” either. I mean full-on, bounce-around-the-room, make-eye-contact, maybe-even-borrow-a-stranger’s-toy kind of energy. Yes—borrow. Not steal. There’s a difference. My kids don’t snatch and hoard. They spot something interesting, go check it out, and (with a little nudge from me) hand it right back. I step in with a smooth, “Ooo, that’s a cool toy! Let’s ask our friend if we can take a closer look.” And guess what? No meltdown. No shame. Just curiosity in action.

And here’s the real win: my kids don’t seem to feel “less than” their peers. Sure, they sometimes look confused about the rules. But do they look scared to try? Not even a little. And that confidence, especially in kids with communication challenges, is no accident. It’s intentional.

I, myself, didn’t grow up with that kind of confidence. I had to learn how valuable it is to shape a focused, independent, self-assured human being. So here are a few ways I’ve been planting those seeds in my kids—every single day.

Confidence Isn’t Loud—It’s Steady, Secure, and Safe

Confidence isn’t about being the loudest kid in the room. It’s not about being bold or fearless. It’s about feeling safe enough to try, to fail, and to try again. It’s about knowing your voice matters—even if it sounds different from everyone else’s.

That’s what parenting children like mine has taught me. It’s made me more conscious, more intentional in everything I do.

Because real confidence is built in the little things—the everyday habits that quietly shape self-worth over time. And yes, sometimes those habits look like sticks in the car, midnight swings, or full-blown debates about why shoes don’t belong lined up on the couch from smallest to largest.

Now let’s talk about the everyday practices that actually help kids grow real confidence.

Hear Them Out: Let Their Voice Exist

Silence might be golden for your nerves, but it’s not great for building confidence. In my house, I’m surrounded by noise. Questions. Requests. Odd facts at random times. And random outbursts of songs or sounds. And I love it...most of the time.

Before we got here, though, I had to create an environment where anything goes. Literally—sticks from the park? In the trunk. Shoes on the couch and can't sit down? Not ideal, but hey, we survived. Midnight swings? Do you need me to push you?

Why? Because my kids couldn’t always use words to communicate. They showed me what they needed, and I had to make sure I wasn’t shutting them down. Even when it was inconvenient. Even when it was embarrassing.

Case in point: Jacki once repeated something I had said in private—loudly, and right in front of the exact wrong person.

Did I die? Almost.

Did I recover? Somehow.

I managed to say, “Oh! I think you meant [insert something mortifying here]... Yes, you probably did hear me mention something like that—but it doesn’t quite apply right now. I can totally see why you'd think so, though.”

Later, I realized she wasn’t being rude or trying to blow up my spot—she values accuracy. She needed clarification, not correction. And most importantly? She didn’t feel ashamed.

Lesson learned: let them finish their thoughts. Ask questions instead of shutting them down. Don’t complete their sentences. Your job is to learn how they think before you try to teach them anything. Even if it means you’re going to take a few public “oops” hits in the process. Worth it.

Connect Before You Correct

I smother my kids with affection—hugs, tickles, kisses, back scratches, forehead presses—you name it. And yes, I absolutely annoy them with love. It’s my superpower.

It’s also my petty little way of getting back at them for all the times I couldn’t have a single moment to myself. But hey, who’s counting?

That said, I’m not great with big emotions. Crying? Yikes. I never know what to do with it—especially when it’s my oldest.

I love her to pieces, but watching her cry feels like watching my own heart crack open in real time. It’s overwhelming... and if I’m honest, it makes me angry. Angry at whatever dared to put her sweet heart in that kind of pain.

Still, I’ve learned not to run from those moments. Because affection doesn’t just belong to joy—it’s meant for pain, too.

When my kids are upset, we snuggle. We breathe. I reassure them.

Every night—arguably the most important part of the day, when our defenses finally come down—we take a moment to reflect. We compliment each other on how we showed up, and we thank each other for the time we shared.

Even if in the beginning it felt weird for me, it feels safe for them. That safety makes correction easier. Want a child to listen? Connect first. A hand on the shoulder, an invite to sit on your lap, a soft tone, or a warm hug after the hard stuff—it builds trust. And trust builds resilience.

Help Them Find Physical Balance

Physical confidence is real confidence. When kids feel strong and steady in their bodies, they feel braver in the world.

Each of my kids has a different relationship with balance. Jacki’s coordination didn’t come naturally—she skipped crawling, spent too much time in walkers, and struggled with physical grounding. So I introduced her to ISR (Infant Swimming Resource), and by age 3, she was swimming across the deep end. Boom—confidence.

My husband made it a mission to master scooters, bikes, and skateboards alongside them. I signed them up for dance, martial arts, climbing—anything that built coordination and gave them a win. If it helped their bodies and their confidence, we were in.

We also used a program called Brain Balance to help close motor gaps—and yes, we saw real progress.

The goal? Keep their feet on the ground—literally—because that’s what helps keep them grounded.

Let your kids test their limits. Let them stretch, stumble, and get back up. Confidence grows when their bodies feel capable.

Normalize Mistakes and Rehearse Resilience

After becoming a mom, my pride took a backseat. I dance in public. I join in their stimming. If they’re loud, I’m louder. Why? Because I want them to feel free.

I want other kids to see mine and think, “Oh, that’s okay? Cool!” Or maybe just, “Wow, that family is... a lot.” Either way, the message is clear: my kids aren’t alone. Their mom is right there, in the chaos, cheering them on.

I want my kids to know that mistakes aren’t disasters—they’re just pit stops. A quick pause, a chance to regroup, and then we keep going.

When something goes wrong, I’ll say: “Oh wow, that didn’t work—what now?”

Or: “That was bold! I can’t believe you tried that. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have at your age. I’m proud of you.”

And: “It’s okay you did great! We can try that again later.”

I celebrate effort over outcome. I let them struggle a little—not because I enjoy watching them flail (okay, sometimes it's funny), but because if you never try, you never build the muscle for disappointment… or the creativity to try again differently.

Also? I don’t parent with fear. My kids don’t go silent when I walk into a room. The only thing that might pause the chaos is the classic, “I’m counting to 3!” And let’s be honest—that’s more tradition than threat at this point.

They do know when I mean business—like when safety’s involved. I’m not above a mom voice that could stop a moving vehicle.

Why does all this matter? Because it tells me my kids aren’t living in fear. They’re learning how to listen, how to grow, and how to trust—without shrinking themselves to do it.

Let Them Take the Lead (Even if It’s Slower)

This one’s my favorite. For years, my kids didn’t give feedback. No preferences. No opinions. Just silence. But I never stopped asking. And now?

Now I get opinions. So many opinions. Mostly “No.” But that “No” is music to my ears.

My daughter once asked for cake. We baked it that night. My son wanted to stop by the train station after shopping—guess what? Detour time. I comply when I can. And when I can’t, I say, “Tomorrow,” or “After dinner.” The magic of them sharing their wants stays alive because I follow through.

Let your kids choose their clothes, help make meals, solve little sibling spats—with some scripting from parents on using their words. Let them lead, even if it takes longer. They’ll learn that their voice has power—and power, when handled with love, becomes confidence.

Also, a big shout-out to ABA therapy. It’s helped my kids express their wants and needs with clarity and confidence. That’s a skill worth gold.

Final Thoughts

Confidence isn’t something I “give” to my kids—it’s something I am building with them. Brick by brick. Day by day. Toy by toy. Mistake by mistake. It’s about creating a space where they’re safe to be themselves, even when they’re still figuring out what that is.

And if your kid ever walks into a room and acts like they own it? That’s not just pride—it’s proof your efforts are working.