Overprotective or Supportive? Finding the Right Balance in Parenting

“I feel like I’m abandoning them — as if I don’t care,” I said to my husband.

It happens sometimes. I’m the protective one — the “mother duck” — hovering, helping, doing things for the children so life won’t be too hard for them. And if I’m honest, part of it is also so I can feel like a mother. My husband, on the other hand — like many fathers, leans in the opposite direction. He gives them (almost) full responsibility. Let them manage, learn, toughen up, become independent, face life.

And so, this is one of our recurring disagreements. He lets go too easily, and I… hold on too tightly. I don’t know if “overbearing” is the right word. But I would say protective — guarding, holding, maybe not releasing enough. I often find myself saying to him and to myself: “Just let me do it — I want to feel like a mother.” At the same time, I catch myself putting in far more effort than necessary, and doing things that, truthfully, the children could do themselves. And sometimes, I even feel frustrated that they don’t step up, even though I haven’t really given them the space to do so.

The Moment That Tests Everything

The hardest moments come with the bigger decisions. My older children are away at yeshiva, and sometimes my husband and I want to step out together for a short outing nearby. But that means our youngest, just eight and a half, would need to stay home alone.

I hesitate. “Maybe we should take her with us,” I suggest. “Or wait another hour until her brother comes home. I don’t want her to be alone. I feel bad for her…” My husband responds calmly, “Let go. She’s not miserable. If anything, she’s lucky. She’ll be fine.” “Yes, but…” “No ‘but.’ Come on — grab a jacket and let’s go.”

I give her a lingering, almost apologetic kiss. He gives her clear safety instructions: don’t open the door to anyone unless it’s definitely a sibling, keep the phone nearby, call if needed — preferably him, not me. Then we leave. We get into the car, and the thoughts begin racing. “I feel bad leaving her. I’m not like you — I’m a mother. What if she’s scared and just not saying anything? What if I’m neglecting her?” He looks at me and says simply, “You’re a wonderful mother. Everything is okay. You’re allowed to go out.” And slowly, I relax.

Does this sound familiar? Do you also find yourself caught in these inner conflicts?

What I’ve Come to Understand

Over time, I’ve gathered a few insights from moments like these. Sometimes they help more, sometimes less — but they remind me of what is true.

I am a good mother. I probably don’t tell myself that enough. When I do, it brings immediate calm.

An independent child is not an abandoned child. When we give children responsibility and trust them, they begin to trust themselves. They feel more capable, more secure, more loved, and less dependent.

If I want to feel like a mother, there are many ways to express it — through affection, through time spent together, through listening, through shared experiences, through preparing things they enjoy. Motherhood is not defined by doing everything for them.

There is also an important distinction: doing for a child versus doing instead of a child. Doing for them comes from a place of choice, generosity, and joy, and it does not weaken them. But doing instead of them often comes from emotional discomfort. It is done out of pressure, not willingness — and it ultimately holds them back, even if it temporarily quiets our own inner conflict.

As my husband often says, half-jokingly but with truth behind it: “Don’t make them helpless.” So I try to pause and ask myself: Is this helping my child grow — or is it just helping me feel better in the moment?

Parenting is not about holding on or letting go completely. It is about knowing when to do each — and having the courage to trust both your child and yourself.