Episode 3 - Your kids are watching...but what are they really learning

Most of us have heard the phrase, "Little eyes are always watching." But this episode isn't about perfect parenting or saying all the right things.

It's about something much deeper.

The way you treat yourself may be teaching your children more than the words you say to them.

In this episode of Unsolicited Permission, we're talking about the quiet lessons our children learn from watching us every day—how we speak to ourselves, whether we believe we deserve rest, how we handle mistakes, and what it means to value ourselves.

We'll explore:

• Why your children learn more from what they see than what they hear
• How generational patterns are passed down—and how they can stop with you
• The surprising connection between self-care and the legacy you're leaving
• This week's Permission Slip Challenge that could change the way your children see themselves

This isn't an episode about guilt.

It's an episode about hope.

Because your children don't need a perfect mom.

They need one who's willing to keep growing.

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🌐 Website: getstarted.behealthybeyoufitness.com

If this episode encouraged you, don't forget to Like, Subscribe, and Share it with another mom who needs this reminder.

Remember...

You never needed anyone else's permission.

Only your own.

Transcript

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My daughter walked into my room. She looked in the mirror, looked up and down at the outfit she had picked out for the day, and started crying. Then she looked at me and said, Mom, I look fat and ugly. Eight years old. Eight. And I was heartbroken. I was not mad, not at her, but mad that my gorgeous, precious little girl already knew how to look in a mirror and be cruel to herself. So naturally, I went into full mom mode. I told her, you are not fat, you are not ugly, and we do not talk to ourselves that way. I told her maybe an outfit doesn't feel right. Maybe a shirt isn't your favorite color. Maybe something doesn't fit the way you had hoped. But that does not mean you are the problem. That does not mean you are ugly. That does not mean you get to stand in front of a mirror and tear yourself apart. Parenting win, right? Wrong. Like spectacularly wrong. Because then she looked at me completely innocent and said, Why? You say that about yourself all the time. And I don't think I've ever been punched in the stomach so hard without anyone touching me. It was one of those moments where time completely stops because all at once I realized she hadn't learned anything from our conversation. She only had learned from watching me. Sound familiar? And before shame starts reaching for you through the speaker, stop. That is not where we are going today. Not on this show. This is not an episode about what I've done wrong. It is not an episode about what you've done wrong. This is an episode about the loudest lesson your kids are learning, the one you may not even realize you're teaching, and how the pattern can stop with you. Because your kids are not just listening to what you say, they're watching how you live. And what they gain from watching you may become the blueprint they carry for the rest of their lives. This is unsolicited permission, the podcast for moms who are done waiting for permission to take care of themselves. Because the only permission you've been waiting for is your own. I'm Emily. Every Tuesday, I'll hand you one permission slip to become healthier, stronger, more confident, and to remember the woman you've always been. So take a deep breath, grab your coffee, and let's fix some crowns. Welcome back. I'm really glad you're here. And I need you to know something before we go any further. This episode is not just about body image. The moment with my daughter may be where the story starts, but it is not where the lesson ends. Because our children are watching more than how we talk about our bodies. They are watching how we treat ourselves, they are watching whether we rest, whether we apologize for having needs, whether we eat with guilt or gratitude, whether we disappear from photos, whether we keep promises to ourselves, whether we believe we are allowed to take up space. They are watching what a woman does with her own worth. And here's the scary part. They believe us. Last week I gave you one assignment. Pick one promise so small your worst day couldn't steal it. And then keep it. If you did that even once, I am proud of you. And I hope you understand this week why that promise matters so much more than you think, because you are not the only one keeping score. There are little eyes in your house and they are watching everything. So here is this week's permission slip. You have permission to take care of yourself in front of your kids. Not after bedtime, not in secret, not in the 15 minutes before everyone wakes up. Not like your needs are something to hide. Visibly, honestly, without apology. Because your children are not watching perfection, they are watching courage. Let's start with something we hear all the time. Your kids are always watching. It's one of those phrases that becomes almost cliche. We've heard it so many times that I think we've stopped really hearing it. Because if you're anything like me, you probably thought it meant they were watching whether you said please and thank you, whether you remember to apologize after losing your patience, whether you prayed before dinner, whether you recycled. Those things do matter, but they're not the loudest lessons your children are learning. They're learning from the moments you don't even notice. The sigh you let out when you catch your reflection. The way you suck in your stomach before someone takes a picture. The way you say, I shouldn't eat that, or I'll start over on Monday. The way you apologize for resting. The way you tell everyone else to sit down while you keep cleaning. The way you insist everyone else deserves a full pl you're picking leftovers off your children's plate because you don't think making none of these moments feel like lessons. But they are. Because children don't become who we tell them to be. They become what they repeatedly see. When I found out I was having a daughter, I made myself a promise. I remember thinking, I never want her to struggle with body image the way I have. I wanted her to feel beautiful, confident, strong, comfortable in her own skin, and I meant every word. But here's what I didn't understand then. She wasn't going to learn those things because I gave her a speech. She was going to learn them by watching me. That realization changed everything because suddenly it wasn't just about whether I complimented her. It became about whether I complimented myself. Not in a prideful way, but in a healthy way. Did she ever hear me say, I feel strong today? I love how my body carried me through the day. I'm proud of myself for taking care of me. Or did she mostly hear criticism, frustration, self-deprecating jokes, the constant belief that I'd finally be enough once I lost the weight? Then I realized something else. This wasn't just about my daughter. It never was. It was about both of my children. Because my daughter is learning what kind of relationship a woman is allowed to have with herself. And my son is learning what kind of relationship a woman deserves to have with herself. The way I treat myself becomes the blueprint my daughter inherits. And it teaches my son what's acceptable for a woman to believe about herself. Not because I'm lecturing them, because I'm living in front of them. They're learning whether rest has to be earned, whether moms always go last, whether it's okay to have boundaries, whether taking care of yourself is selfish or simply part of being human. They're learning whether a woman gets to take up space, whether her dreams matter, whether her health matters, whether she matters. And maybe that's why this conversation feels so important to me. Because someday someone's daughter may marry my son. I hope she never has to convince him that she deserves respect, that she deserves rest, that she deserves to take care of herself without feeling guilty. I hope he already knows because he learned it watching his mom. So let me give you the sentence that changed the way I move through my own house. The blueprint isn't in your words, it's in your mirror. Not the mirror hanging on your wall, the mirror your children see every single day. The reflection of how you speak to yourself, how you care for yourself every day, how you forgive yourself, how you love yourself. Because whether you realize it or not, your children are building their own reflection by watching yours. Now, I want to tell you the part that gives me hope. Because if this episode only left us feeling guilty, I'd never release it. Guilt doesn't change families. Hope does. Here's what I need you to hear. You didn't invent the pattern. Maybe nobody ever modeled healthy boundaries for you. Maybe you grew up watching your mom put herself last every day. Maybe you learned that love looked like self-sacrifice, that being a good mom meant giving until there was nothing left to give. Maybe you watched women apologize for resting, for eating, for spending money on themselves, for dreaming, for taking up space. Maybe your story looks completely different. Whatever it is, every one of us inherited something. A way of thinking, a way of speaking, a way of surviving. Most of us are building our lives from blueprints we never chose. Remember episode one? We talked about the woman you were before everyone else needed you. We talked about how somewhere along the way she got buried. Not because you stopped existing, because life happened. Responsibilities, motherhood, expectations all happened. Then last week we talked about starting small, keeping one tiny promise to yourself. Not because one glass of water changes your life, but because every kept promise begins rebuilding trust with yourself. And now, this week, those two conversations come together. Because every time you choose yourself in a healthy way, your children are watching. Every kept promise becomes permission they didn't even know they needed. That's why this isn't about creating perfect kids. It's about creating a healthier example. Because here's something I wish someone had told me years ago. Healing doesn't erase your childhood, it changes your children's childhood. That sentence has stayed with me because I can't rewrite my past. I can't go back and change every message I believed. I can't erase every insecurity. I can't undo every moment I thought my worth depended on my appearance, my productivity, or how much I gave everyone else. But I can decide what gets passed on. Inherited is not the same thing as permanent. Read that again in your heart. Inherited is not permanent. You get to decide what continues. You get to decide what ends. You get to decide what your children will one day remember about growing up in your home. Will they remember a mom who never sat down? A mom who constantly criticized herself. A mom who believed everyone else deserved care except her. Or will they remember a woman who showed them that taking care of yourself isn't selfish? It's wise. That saying no sometimes is healthy. The asking for help isn't weakness. That rest isn't something you earn. It's something every human being needs. Maybe nobody stopped the pattern for you. Maybe every generation before you did the best they could with what they knew. And you can honor that while still choosing something different. Because honoring where you came from doesn't mean repeating everything you inherited. Sometimes the greatest way to honor your family is to heal what hurt them too. I think that's what courage really looks like. Not perfection, not pretending you've figured everything out. Just one woman choosing to write a different story. One decision, one conversation, one kept promise, one ordinary Tuesday at a time. Because here's the beautiful part. Your children don't need a perfect mom. They need a growing one. A mom who apologizes when she's wrong. A mom who learns. A mom who rests. A mom who laughs. A mom who keeps showing up. A mom who believes she matters too. And every single time they see that, they learn something about themselves. Not because you told them, because you showed them. That's how family trees change. Not all at once. One brave branch at a time. So how do we actually change the lesson? Not someday, not when life finally slows down. Today. Because if you're anything like me, you're probably thinking, okay, Emily, I hear you. But what does this actually look like in real life? The good news, it doesn't require a complete life overhaul. It doesn't require becoming a perfect mom. It doesn't even require a perfect day. It starts the same way almost every meaningful change starts with one small decision. So here's this week's permission slip challenge. Let your kids catch you. Not catch you being perfect, catching you taking care of yourself, catching you keep one promise to yourself, catching you believing that you matter too. Maybe they catch you saying, Mom's going for a walk. Not because you're trying to earn dessert, not because you're punishing yourself for what you ate yesterday, because you're moving your body feels good, because your body deserves care. Maybe you catch yourself sitting down with a book for 10 minutes without apologizing for it. Maybe they hear you say, I'm going to bed a little earlier tonight because I need the rest. Or I'm keeping my doctor's appointment because my health matters. Maybe they hear you celebrate yourself, not because everything is perfect, but because progress deserves to be noticed. I'm proud of myself for sticking with that. That was hard, but I did it. I made a mistake today, and tomorrow I get another chance. Imagine what it would be like if your children grew up hearing those words. Last week I asked you to choose one promise so small your worst day couldn't steal it. Remember? The goal was never the habit. The goal is becoming a woman who trusts yourself again. This week, that same tiny promise becomes something even bigger. Because every time your children see you keep one promise to yourself, they're learning that a woman's promise to herself matters. That's bigger than a habit. That's legacy. This month, inside our mom strong community, our theme is release. So here's the story I hope you'll leave behind this week. A mom always goes last. Says who? Not your children, not God. Somewhere along the way, the world handed moms that script. A script that says your needs come last. That rest has to be earned. That taking care of yourself is selfish. That being exhausted somehow proves how much you love your family. I don't believe that anymore, and I hope after today, you don't either. Because here's what I know. You can love your family with your whole heart without abandoning yourself. In fact, I think that's exactly what your children need to see. A mom who loves deeply, serves generously, loves often, sells healthy boundaries, keeps learning, keeps growing, and believes she is worthy of the same kindness she gives everyone else. So this week, let them catch you. Just once, one visible act of self-respect. One kept promise, one ordinary moment that quietly teaches your children what healthy love looks like. That's it. That's this week's permission slip challenge. Before we go, I want you to picture something. Imagine it's 20 years from now. Your children are grown. Maybe they've started families of their own. Maybe they're standing in their own kitchen, packing lunches, folding laundry, trying to juggle work and family, just like you are today. Now ask yourself this. What do you hope they remember about growing up in your home? Not what they ate for dinner on a Tuesday, not whether every toy was picked up, not whether the laundry was folded perfectly. What do you hope they remember about you? Will they remember a perfect mom? No. Because she never existed. Will they remember every birthday party, every vacation, every perfectly wrapped Christmas present? Probably not. But they'll remember how your home felt. They'll remember how you loved, how you laughed, how you handled hard days, how you spoke to yourself, how you treated yourself, whether you believed you mattered to. One day, my daughter will be grown. One day, my son will too. And more than anything, I hope they remember a mom who kept growing. A mom who admitted when she got it wrong. A mom who apologized. A mom who prayed. A mom who laughed. A mom who took pictures with them instead of hiding behind the camera. A mom who chased dreams even when they felt impossible. A mom who took care of herself because she knew she couldn't pour from an empty cup forever. Not because she had it all figured out. Because she was willing to keep learning. Maybe that's the legacy we're really building. Not perfect children, not perfect homes, not perfect lives. People who know what healthy love looks like. People who know they can care deeply for others without abandoning themselves. People who understand that grace is stronger than guilt. Maybe no one ever modeled that for you. Maybe no one ever handed you permission to believe you mattered. If that's true, I want today to be different. Because I'm handing you that permission now, not because I have all the answers. I don't. I'm still learning too. I'm still catching myself saying things I wish I hadn't, still replacing old stories with healthier ones, still choosing grace over guilt, still reminding myself that I deserve the same kindness I give everyone else. Maybe you are too. And that's okay, because we're not trying to become perfect moms. We're becoming present moms, growing moms, courageous moms. And I think that's exactly what our children need. If today's conversation encouraged you, I'd love for you to share it with another mom. Because I have a feeling someone in your life needs this reminder today. And if you're enjoying the podcast, be sure to subscribe so you don't miss next Tuesday. If you're wondering where to begin your own journey, don't forget to take the mom identity quiz linked in the show notes. It's free, takes a few minutes, and we'll help you discover what your heart needs the most attention right now. And if you're looking for a community of moms, choosing progress over perfection, grace over guilt, and courage over comfort, come join us inside the Mom Strong Crown Club on Facebook. We love to walk alongside you. Next Tuesday, we're talking about one of the biggest lies we've ever believed that successful people simply have more willpower. I don't believe that anymore. I'm going to tell you why and share the story of the people who carried me when my own strength wasn't enough. Because the truth is, none of us were ever meant to do this alone. I can't wait to share that story with you. Remember, you never needed anyone else's permission, only your own. Go become the woman you've been missing because your kids aren't watching perfection. They're watching courage. Until next Tuesday, keep fixing your crown. I'll see you then.