Trusting Our Kids to Become
The Power of Generous Restraint
Generosity is often misunderstood. We think of it as giving—time, patience, kindness. But sometimes, the most powerful form of generosity is restraint. It’s resisting the urge to step in, to fix, to soften every challenge. True generosity isn’t just about making life easier for our kids—it’s about making them stronger, more resilient, and more connected to the world around them.
Helping our kids develop generosity starts with how we show up as parents. Not by telling them to be kind, but by modeling it—especially when it’s hard. It’s choosing patience over reactivity. It’s setting boundaries, even when saying yes would be easier. It’s demonstrating a generosity that isn’t about people-pleasing but about integrity, courage, and love. And sometimes, the most generous thing we can do is step back and say: I believe you’ve got this. And if you don’t yet, I believe you’ll get there.
When we take this stance, our kids will know it’s true because their own experiences will prove it. And when they believe in themselves, they’ll begin to see potential in others. The generosity they give won’t just be about kindness—it will be rooted in a deep belief in people’s capabilities.
Letting Them Struggle, Letting Them Grow
Generosity isn’t always about removing discomfort—it’s about allowing our children to grow through it. Consider the first time your child tries to ride a bike. They wobble, they fall, they look up at you with tears welling in their eyes. Every instinct tells you to hold on tighter, to prevent the fall. But you don’t. You encourage them to get back up, to try again, because you know that learning balance is something they have to do on their own.
It’s a lesson that extends beyond the bike—into the moments when they struggle with friendships, schoolwork, or disappointments. It means holding back when they struggle instead of rushing in with a solution. It’s giving them space to fail, reflect, and try again rather than shielding them from every setback. True generosity isn’t about easing every hardship—it’s about knowing when creating space is the most loving and transformative thing we can do.
This isn’t about withholding love or support. It’s about trusting our kids to rise to challenges, even when every instinct tells us to step in. It’s about seeing their potential, even when they doubt themselves, and standing firm in our belief that they are capable of more than they realize. Struggle is where growth happens, and belief in their own capability is one of the greatest gifts we can give.
The Paradox of Generous Parenting
Parenting demands a generosity that often feels counterintuitive. It’s stepping back when we want to step in, trusting when worry takes over, and letting go when every instinct tells us to hold tighter.
It’s hard to believe our kids will find their way without constant intervention. It’s even more difficult when experts and influencers insist that good parenting means being ever-present, orchestrating every detail, and treating childhood like a high-stakes competition rather than a time to evolve, stumble, and discover.
Letting go feels unnatural. It forces us to confront the deep-seated fears drilled into us—the ones whispering blasting in our ears, stirring anxiety, guilt, and exhaustion as we navigate impossible expectations.
Pausing instead of reacting means losing control—fueling fear and doubt.
Letting them struggle means failing them—weighing us down with guilt.
If they fail, it’s a direct reflection of our parenting—a heavy mix of shame and pressure.
Anything less than success is failure—driving perfectionism and burnout.
Is it any wonder we double down, step in, and try to do it all? Who wants to sit with feelings like these?
Here’s the paradox: what feels like stepping back is actually stepping up. When we resist the impulse to control, we aren’t abandoning our kids—we’re giving them the space to rise on their own. Because generosity in parenting isn’t about doing more—it’s about allowing more.
It requires us to let go of fear and recognize that our strength as parents isn’t in preventing every fall but in helping them find their footing again. It makes us larger, not weaker, because it fosters a relationship built on trust instead of control. Real connection—the kind rooted in belief rather than micromanagement—is where true maturation happens.
When kids feel both the freedom to struggle and the safety of our belief in them, they not only overcome challenges—they become stronger, more confident, and ready to navigate the world on their own.
Generosity → Service → Purpose
Generosity is the foundation. Service is the fruit. Purpose is the result.
When kids grow up seeing generosity in action, they start to notice more. The classmate sitting alone. The neighbor who needs a hand. The way someone’s voice cracks when they’re trying not to cry. And they step in—not because they have to, but because they want to.
But generosity isn’t just about jumping in—it’s also about knowing when to ease off. Here, too, restraint is an act of generosity. When we dictate involvement and manufacture opportunities, we risk robbing kids of the chance to develop their own instincts for compassion. True generosity is giving them the space to notice, decide, and act on their own.
Research supports this. A study by Fidelity Charitable1 found that over 80% of kids follow their parents’ lead when it comes to “giving activities”—whether through volunteering, direct giving, or donating items. But here’s the key: it’s not about making kids generous. It’s about modeling generosity and then trusting them to find their own way.
Small acts of service become something bigger. They instill a sense of agency—the realization that their actions have impact—and create a sense of purpose. But for that to happen, kids need the freedom to engage with the world on their own terms. They need parents who resist the urge to orchestrate every moment of giving and instead allow generosity to emerge naturally.
And when kids experience this freedom, they don’t just learn to give—they learn to believe in people’s potential. The generosity they offer won’t be rooted in obligation, but in a deep trust in others’ abilities to grow, rise, and overcome. They will begin to see in others what we saw in them: the capacity to navigate life’s challenges with strength and resilience.
When kids witness how their generosity eases another person’s burden, when their service fosters connection and gratitude, they begin to understand that their choices matter. Purpose is born in these moments—not from obligation, but from self-discovery.
When we choose generosity—whether by offering help or by stepping back so our kids can step in—we’re shaping their ability to connect, care, and find meaning.
Purpose isn’t just shaped by what we give—it’s shaped by what we’re given the space to do.
The Proof Is in Who They Become
You won’t get a trophy for raising a generous kid. But you’ll see it, not in awards or recognition, but in the quiet moments—the way they choose benevolence, the way they lift others up, the way they reflect the values you’ve instilled in them.
You’ll see it in how they handle conflict—with empathy and confidence, choosing to listen before reacting, to understand before assuming. You’ll hear it in their words, the way they set boundaries with both mercy and clarity. You’ll feel it in your home, where relationship outweighs control and love moves freely.
And maybe most unexpectedly, you’ll feel something shift in yourself—not in a grand, dramatic way, but in the small moments. The way you hold back when you once would have stepped in. The way you watch instead of manage. The way you trust instead of correct. You realize that as they grow into generosity, you’re learning something too—not just how to raise them, but how to release them. Their confidence steadies you. Their thoughtfulness reminds you that trust was always the point.
The Generosity of Belief
Raising generous kids isn’t about making life easy for them. It’s about showing them they’re strong enough to handle life as it comes. It’s resisting the urge to smooth every rough patch, holding space for their disappointments and frustrations without rushing to fix them. Because when we do, we send an even more powerful message: I trust you to figure this out.
Generosity isn’t just about giving—it’s about believing. Believing in our kids’ resilience. In their ability to rise, even when it’s hard. In the power of struggle to shape them, rather than break them. Sometimes, the greatest act of generosity is simply saying, I know this is hard, but I believe in you. Because in the end, the most lasting gift we can give is confidence in who they are becoming.
Feeling stuck and unsure of your next step?
If the ideas you’ve been reading here resonate but you’re unsure how to make them work in your day-to-day, let’s talk. We’ll work through what’s on your mind and create a clear plan so you can move forward with confidence.
Fidelity Charitable. (2023). Parenting & philanthropy: Growing the next generation of givers. Fidelity Charitable. Accessed February 3, 2025.
I love this idea of self-reinforcing confidence that flows from generosity. Great read and thoughts, Erin!
This essay about generosity and the restraint thereof, is such a powerful message. I remember my dad telling me that failing is never the issue, not getting back up is. He would then go on about what is on the end of a pencil opposite the graphite point? After we would say "an eraser," he would assure us that everyone makes mistakes. Making mistakes are not the problem, not learning from them is. In his own way he was teaching us that parents can't, not they should try to fix everything, that we need room to grow. He was modeling generosity by not jumping in and solving our problems for us. He just used different language. Thank you for this alternate view.