MINDSET TRAPS OF PARENTING TEENS AND THE EMPTY NEST—TRAP #12: THE APPROVAL TRAP—WHY YOUR BIG KID’S DISAPPROVAL MAKES YOU DOUBT YOURSELF | EP. 287
Welcome to the Almost Empty Nest Podcast, where we moms of teens and college kids reframe what letting go really means to feel more connected, confident, and at peace. I'm your host, Master Coach Jennifer Collins.
What if one of the biggest reasons you second-guess yourself as a mom has nothing to do with the decisions you're making and everything to do with how your big kid reacts to it? Today, I'm continuing the mindset trap series with a focus on the approval trap.
You'll learn why your big kid's disappointment or disapproval can make you question whether you're being a good mom and how the need for their approval can keep you explaining and backpedaling and even weakening your boundaries. I'll also talk about how to listen to what your kid thinks without losing sight of the mom you want to be, because being a confident mom doesn't actually require your kid to always agree with you. What it really means is learning how to trust yourself even when they don't. Let's dive in.
Hello, my friend. Have you ever noticed how confident you can feel about a decision you make right up until the time someone else doesn't like it? Maybe you set a boundary with your big kid, and before you communicate it to them, you feel pretty clear about it.
But then they get angry. They tell you you're being unfair or controlling. And suddenly, you're not so sure anymore.
After the conversation, you start replaying it. Was I being too harsh? Maybe I should have handled that differently. And then you worry that you're pushing them away, that you're damaging the relationship.
Or maybe there's something you want to do for yourself. You want to go back to work or take a trip with your friends. Maybe start something new.
And then your husband seems skeptical about it, or your mom questions it. Maybe your friend gives you one of those looks, saying, do you really want to do that? And almost instantly, something that felt really exciting to you right up until that point starts to feel questionable. My friend, this is the approval trap.
And what makes this trap so sneaky is that it doesn't always look like wanting everyone to like you. It's actually something deeper. It's when someone else's reaction starts to become evidence about whether your decision is right or wrong.
In other words, if you don't approve of what I'm doing, I have a harder time approving of it myself. And I think this is such an important trap for us moms to understand. Because for so many years, we've been paying incredibly close attention to our kids' reactions.
And when they were little, that made perfect sense. When they cried, we needed to figure out what they needed. When they were scared, we comforted them.
And actually, so much of the time, we could make it better for them. But then when they were happy with us, when they threw their little arms around us and said, I love you, mommy, or told us we were the best mom ever, all that felt pretty amazing too. The truth is, for years, our kids' reactions have given us feedback.
And for a really long time, that feedback mechanism actually worked really well. When they were little, their distress often did mean they needed something from us. And their relief often gave us that signal that said we'd helped.
So we got really good at looking to them to tell us whether everything was okay. But without realizing it, I think many of us also started using that feedback to reassure ourselves. I'm doing okay.
I'm being a good mom. Or we're connected. Our relationship is strong.
But then our kids grow up, and that whole feedback system stops working the way it used to. Because sometimes being the mom you want to be means being willing for your big kid to be unhappy with you. I mean, sometimes it means that we've got to say no, or hold a boundary, or enforce a tough consequence.
Sometimes being a good mom means not rescuing your kid, or letting them experience a natural consequence. And so if we're still using our kids' approval as the scorecard for whether or not we're doing motherhood right, this stage of motherhood can feel incredibly confusing. Because once our kids become teenagers and young adults, their unhappiness with us is no longer reliable evidence that we're doing something wrong.
Sometimes it's actually the inevitable result of doing exactly what we believe is right. So why is it that someone else's disappointment or disapproval can make us so uncertain about a decision that we actually felt pretty good about five minutes before they said anything? I think when this happens, we can feel so insecure about ourselves because we don't want to be someone who looks to other people for approval. But the reality is, part of the reason we do this is that to our brains, in that default setting of our minds, disapproval doesn't just feel like a disagreement.
Our brains actually interpret it as disconnection. And the way our brains are wired, for us human beings, connection means safety. We're wired to belong.
And part of that means we pay attention to the emotional states of the people that we love. So when your big kid is angry with you, your brain doesn't just register it as, my kid's angry. They have a different opinion.
It actually registers it as something closer to a threat. Something is wrong between us. And once your brain senses that disconnection, it wants to repair it as quickly as possible.
And that's when you start explaining yourself, feeling defensive. Maybe you try to clarify what you meant. Or you kind of soften what you said.
Maybe you send another text. Or you try to start searching for the words that might finally make the other person understand. And I want to be clear that none of that is inherently a problem.
Sometimes explaining yourself is useful. And sometimes someone else's opinion legitimately invites you to reconsider yours. But notice the difference between doing these things because they feel intentional, and doing them because you feel this urgent need to make the other person stop being upset with you.
And just consider why our efforts to explain ourselves or to repair the relationship often feel so compelling. When the other person finally says, oh, okay, I get it, or just stops pushing back, you feel relief. For a moment, your brain gets exactly what it was looking for, which is reassurance that the relationship is safe again.
And that relief can become reinforcing. Your brain starts to learn, when someone is unhappy with me, I need to do something to fix their reaction. And that reinforcement means over time that you can stop asking, what do I actually believe here? And lean towards asking, what do I need to say or do so they'll be okay with me again? And that's when the approval stops being something that simply feels good, and starts becoming something you depend on to feel secure.
I think there are three different thoughts under almost every version of this trap. One is, I need you to agree with me so I can trust my decision. A second is, I need you to understand me so I can stop feeling guilty.
And the third and most basic of all of them is, I need you to feel better so I can feel better. And just think about that last one for a minute. It's something almost all of us struggle with in some ways, especially with the people that we love.
When they're upset, we're unsettled. But if they're calm, if they're happy, we're okay. And the problem is, there's a fine line between just caring about someone you love and managing your own sense of feeling okay through their mood.
And the part that's even more confusing is, all of this feels like love. It feels like being a good mom, or a good wife, a good daughter, or friend. We convince ourselves this is what love looks like.
The problem is, it also happens to be a way of handing your own peace of mind to someone else, making it their responsibility. Let me give you a few examples of what this can actually look like in real life, because these examples are not dramatic. Maybe a mom decides she's no longer going to pay for something for her 22-year-old daughter.
Let's say it's car insurance. She's thought it through, and it feels like the right next step. Her daughter has a job, and it's part of growing up.
You start paying for your own car insurance. So this mom feels clear about her decision walking into the conversation, and maybe even a little proud of herself because she feels like this is the right next step. And she wants to hold the line here, really encourage her daughter to take responsibility.
And so she has the conversation with her daughter, and her daughter says, wow, I guess I know where I stand with you. And just like that, the mom's stomach drops. She starts feeling defensive.
That's not what I mean. You know how much I love you. I'm only doing this because I think you're ready.
She explains herself once, and then again. She tries to tell her daughter how she was on her own at that age, and then she starts to wonder to herself, why does my daughter still feel like she deserves to have everything paid for? Just notice how nothing really changed between the moment that the mom walked into the conversation from the moment she left it. Her reasoning was still sound, and her daughter's income certainly hadn't changed.
The only thing that changed was her daughter's reaction. And suddenly the mom isn't asking, what do I believe is right here? She's asking, how do I make this feeling go away? How do I get back to feeling like a good mom? Because it feels somehow like holding this line is damaging my relationship with my daughter. And look, we don't just fall into this trap with our kids.
Let's say you've decided to go back to work or to get involved in something for yourself after years of putting everyone else first. And you finally go to tell your husband or your mother, and they say, are you sure that's really a good idea right now? And instead of just saying, yes, I think it's a good idea, you find yourself getting defensive, building a case for why this is, in fact, a good idea. You find yourself explaining, promising nothing will change.
Maybe you justify the cost of whatever expenses might be involved. And notice how you might have been so sure about this decision an hour ago, but all of a sudden you're met with this question, and your certainty goes out the window. Or maybe it's much smaller than that.
Maybe you decide this is the year you're not hosting the holiday, and your mother-in-law says, well, that's disappointing, but okay. And then you spend the next three days composing texts explaining all the reasons, offering to still do part of it, or wondering if you're being selfish. Notice that your reasons for needing a break and maybe not even really wanting to host the holidays are just as true as they were before she said anything.
But what changed was that you found out she wasn't thrilled about it. And I think it's really important not to reduce this to simple people-pleasing. People-pleasing is what we can see from the outside.
It's saying yes when you want to say no, or avoiding conflict, maybe softening a boundary in the moment someone pushes back. But underneath all of that is something else, that we're using the other person's emotional response to determine whether we're okay. And that's what makes this trap so much more interesting and harder to spot.
You can be someone who has absolutely no trouble saying no to a stranger, and still find yourself completely unmoored by one raised eyebrow or eye roll from your own kid. And as I'm sure you can sense, there is a cost to this trap. Because every time you change your mind or change course just to reduce someone else's disappointment with you, you get some short-term relief.
But you also reinforce the message to yourself that I can only trust my decision when other people are comfortable with it. And that's how approval-seeking can build the habit of self-doubt. Every time you feel clear about something and then abandon that clarity because someone else doesn't like it, you teach yourself that your own judgment isn't quite enough.
And every time you set a boundary and then you back up and you soften it the moment your kid is upset, you reinforce the belief that you need their agreement before you can trust that you made the right decision. Or every time you want something for yourself and you wait for other people to sign off on it first, you hand them a little more authority over your life. And none of these moments are actually significant on their own.
They're often just everyday moments. And that's why this trap is so effective. It's not like you're throwing away your self-trust all in one fell swoop.
It's like a thousand tiny cuts, each one small enough to justify on their own, until one day you realize you can't quite remember what you think without checking it against everyone else's opinion first. This is often why we lack confidence. It's not because we don't have opinions or aren't capable of making decisions.
It's because you've gotten so used to running those decisions through everyone else's reactions first. Even if you're not consciously doing this, somewhere within you, you're asking, will my kid be upset? Or will my husband think this is unnecessary? Will my family understand? And those questions actually overtake the one question that actually matters. What do I actually believe or want here? Now again, trusting yourself does not mean ignoring feedback from everyone else just because you don't like hearing it.
But what has become so clear to me through coaching hundreds of moms is that there often isn't an obvious right answer. There are no perfect rules about when to step in with your big kid or when to let them struggle. In fact, two thoughtful, loving moms can make completely different choices in the exact same situation and both be right.
But you know what else? They're both likely to be uncomfortable. Making these decisions with our big kids and even decisions in life, there's often no easy answer, which means there's often discomfort either way. And sometimes someone else's reaction is genuinely useful information.
Maybe your kid tells you something about how your boundary is affecting them that you honestly hadn't considered. Or your husband could point out something practical that changes how you see things. Changing your mind in these moments doesn't mean that you don't trust yourself.
In fact, it can actually be the opposite. Self-trust means listening both to yourself and to the people around you, considering what you're hearing, being willing to change your mind, all the while deciding what you actually believe. So one of the most useful questions you can ask yourself in these moments is, am I changing my mind because I see this differently now or because I'm uncomfortable that the other person seems unhappy with me? Let's say your big kid is furious about a boundary you've set.
So you listen to their feedback and you understand why it feels unfair to them from their perspective. And maybe you even agree that from their perspective, it's frustrating. But when you really think it through, you still believe the boundary makes sense.
Self-trust can sound like, I understand why you're upset, but I'm still sticking with this decision. But self-trust can also sound like, the more I think about what you're saying, the more I realize this isn't actually the line I want to hold. Both of those are actually self-trust.
What makes the difference isn't actually the choice or just sticking with what you originally thought. It's that in both cases, you're deciding from your own clarity, your own intentional decision, and not just reacting to get a better response from the other person. When you really think about it, the approval trap is what happens when we outsource our own self-trust.
Because every time someone else's comfort becomes the proof that we made the right choice, we hand them a little bit of authority over our decisions. And sometimes the price of trusting yourself is being misunderstood. And that's not always comfortable.
Trusting yourself doesn't actually come with a guarantee that people will agree with you or even understand you. It just means you're willing to make the decision you believe is right and let someone else have their feelings about it without treating those feelings as your responsibility to fix. And that doesn't mean you don't care about their relationship or care about their feelings.
It just means you've stopped treating the other person's feelings as the indicator that suggests that you've made the right choice, that you're allowed to trust yourself. And when you really think about it, this is a very different kind of confidence than the one we usually picture. It's not, I know for sure that I'm right.
It's actually, I trust myself to make the best decision I can with what I know right now. And I think the real work isn't actually figuring out the perfect decision. It's learning how to stay grounded and confident in that decision in the face of discomfort of someone not liking the decision you made.
Because as I said in the beginning, you can be completely at peace with the decision right before you communicate it and still feel your resolve start to fade away the second you see that person's face fall. Intellectually, we all know our big kid is allowed to disagree with us. You may even know that their disappointment doesn't automatically mean you did something wrong.
But knowing that and actually living it while they're angry or pulling away or pushing back, those are two very different things. You can know it in your head and still feel your whole body screaming that you can fix it. And that moment right there, the gap between what you know intellectually and what your mind and your emotions are compelling you to do to defend yourself, to justify your decision, that is the work.
So let me give you a few things to watch for, because this trap rarely shows up in big dramatic moments. It usually shows up as a small urge, that urge to send one more explanatory text, or the urge to justify a boundary you've already explained once. Maybe the urge to soften a no the second you feel any pushback, or the urge to ask someone else's opinion about whether you're being unreasonable.
Maybe it's the urge to make the other person understand before you can feel settled again. When you notice any one of those urges, try asking yourself, what am I actually trying to make happen right now? Am I trying to communicate? Or am I trying to make them stop being upset with me? What do I actually believe? And here's the best one of all. Would I still want to change this decision if that other person were completely calm and happy about it right now? That last question cuts through the noise, because if the answer is no, you're not changing your mind, you're managing the other person's reaction, and just noticing that difference without judging yourself for it.
That is the work. There are no perfect decisions, and there is often discomfort no matter what decision you make, but can you notice that urge, that pull, a little bit each time, so that you give yourself a bit of space where you actually lean into the decision that you know to be right? Building that muscle of self-trust, this is the work we do inside Mom 2.0. Women bring their real lives, that text they receive that they haven't answered yet, or the boundary they're afraid to hold, or the conversations they keep replaying at 11 o'clock at night, that kid who's pulling away, the decision they keep second-guessing, the urges to rescue or explain or fix or make everyone okay, and together we explore what are the facts and what are we making those reactions mean? What am I afraid will happen if my kid stays unhappy with me? And maybe most importantly, what do I actually believe and how do I want to show up here? And then we practice building the capacity to tolerate someone else's disappointment without abandoning yourself in the process, and not in theory, but in your real life with your real kid and the actual challenge you're facing that week. Some weeks that looks like rehearsing exactly what you want to say before a hard conversation.
Sometimes it looks like sitting with another mom who's been exactly where you are and hearing her say, that's not selfish, that's a boundary, until you can actually believe it yourself. The goal is to build enough self-trust so that you can feel someone else's disappointment land, let it be there, and still feel confident in what you believe to be right. If you're interested in learning more about Mom 2.0, you can find a link in the show notes.
My friend, your kid is allowed to be disappointed in you. They're allowed to disagree with you, and you are still allowed to trust yourself. That kind of confidence changes the relationship because it gives both of you more room to be who you are.
Your kid doesn't have to manage your emotions, and you no longer have to manage theirs in order to feel secure. That's the kind of relationship I want for you as your kids grow up. Feeling connected, honest, and loving, but not dependent on constant agreement.
This is the invitation I want to leave you with today. Notice where you're still waiting for permission. Permission to say no, to want something different, permission to disappoint someone, maybe to make a choice that not everyone understands.
Because you may never get that permission from the people around you, but you can give it to yourself. And my friend, that may be one of the most important parts of this stage of motherhood. Learning that you don't need everyone else to approve of the person you are becoming.
Because you get to decide. And my friend, you have more power than you think. Until next time.
If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love for you to check out my next free masterclass. There's a link in the show notes. You have more power than you think, my friend.
