Raising kids isn’t about teaching them to obey—it’s about teaching them to understand their emotions.
This quote hit me hard this morning. We love defining things, yet we often overcomplicate them.
I’ve felt lost so many times—at school, university, even in the corporate world. But over time, I noticed a pattern. It took becoming a mother of three—navigating doctors, schools, homework, and those dangerously opinionated teachers—to realize one fundamental truth:
Rule #1: I am the mother of my kids. No one understands them better than I do.
With one strict condition: their emotional well-being and self-confidence must be my top priority. If I lose sight of that, the rule no longer applies.
Because here’s the thing—I know them like no one else does. I know their strengths, their quirks, and their so-called weaknesses—or what I prefer to call "Mister Ego."
Weakness is just a matter of perspective.
Someone messy and unfocused might struggle in finance but thrive in the arts.
A child labeled with ADHD might struggle in school but become a world-class athlete.
Unless you have my exact child, with their exact experiences, you cannot claim to understand them better than I do—especially emotionally.
Rule #2: My job is to protect them from being misunderstood—especially by authority figures.
So how do I ensure I’m guiding them without spoiling them? Here’s where it gets tricky.
Parents obsess over making sure their kids "fit into society." We worry about their social skills, their ability to survive financially, and most of all—whether or not they’ll be "successful."
But after 20 years in recruitment, I’ve learned one undeniable truth:
No job will bring success to someone who doesn’t know who they are.
Because knowing yourself means knowing your needs. And that means true contentment—immunity from regret, temptation, and jealousy.
When you know yourself, you create a secure, fulfilling life. You pick up skills that matter—confidence, self-defense, financial literacy. You study what makes you happy, not what makes you "hireable."
And when you’re that solid, that grounded—you’re free.
Enter: Mister Ego
Mister Ego thrives on external validation. He needs praise, achievements, and approval. He doesn’t walk in others’ shoes. His ankles are too big—from all the statues built in his honor.
Mister Ego listens only to those who flatter him. The rest? Dismissed. Empathy? Please. Did you see how he was hurt first?
He has many forms:
Mister Depression—carrying the weight of rejection.
Mister Victim—trapped in helplessness.
Mister Proud Ego—the most entertaining of them all.
Where I come from, he even has a mascot—"El Neef" (The Nose).
So if my job as a mom is to teach my kids emotional intelligence, I must first understand my own emotions.
And that means taming Mister Ego. Because he is the biggest block to discovering who we truly are.
The Elephant in the Room
Mister Ego is always there, suffocating the space. And the only way to breathe again is to get rid of the elephant.
But here’s the catch—he knows when you’re after him. And he’ll fight back.
So maybe, instead of attacking him head-on, we outplay him.
Maybe, like Puss in Boots tricking the ogre into shrinking into a mouse, we slowly shrink Mister Ego—little by little.
Because let’s be honest—Mister Ego must have an ego, too.
And that, my friends, might just be our way in.
So maybe when we become that emotionally intelligent beings…we could even talk with the elephant freely…who knows, he might become our best protector. Wasn’t it his first mission after all.
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