Safe Space… Until You Touch My Earrings

Some parenting lessons arrive in soft hugs. Others sneak in during lunch breaks—and missing earrings.

In this one, I’m seated in the kitchen corner at 3 p.m., chatting with my colleague over lunch.
We’re raising daughters, trying to choose love over lectures. Well... most days.

I ask, “Have you noticed that the most privileged kids often end up the most entitled? Biggest complainers? Blaming every mishap on their parents?”

She agrees, sharing an example of a certain 30-year-old madame she knows.
Apparently, the lady once said her mum ruined her life—as she bit into a hamburger, by the way—because she fed her “everything good and bad.”
Like, come on!! 😏😏

Maina surely… “God helps those who help themselves”—hence we save for a rainy day.
It’s raining now, boss. 😂😂

And yes, we shouldn’t live like ng’ombes and mbuzis, pretending every bill is an ambush—but sasa tutado??
Honestly, if you’re employed and haven’t visited a doctor lately, just take a peek at your payslip and tell me who’s really winning.

Back to the entitlement story—
My parents must’ve cracked the code.

Dad was authoritative: Don’t ask, just do.
Mum was the soft one: I hear you... but do it, or else I’ll escalate to your father.
Boarding school at an early age also made us conform.

Did it make us better? Or just... break us?
Story for another day.

Last Saturday, Hailey was in tears after a 10-minute lecture.
One of those mini-wars between mother and daughter.
I was clear: “I’ll shower you with all the love in the world—but I will not raise a brat!”

A few days later, I casually said I’m a strict parent—probably as a soft future warning.
She looked me dead in the eye and said:
“Mum, please. You’re not.” 🤔

Touché.

Truthfully, I’m not working towards policing her.
I’ve never subscribed to spanking, silent treatment, threats, or mad noise (okay, guilty kidogo 🤫).
It all feels a bit colonial, trying to control little humans instead of guiding them.

For me, democracy it is.

But still… where do we draw the line?

She’s generally a compliant child.
I even tell her it’s okay to make mistakes—just don’t strangle yourself over them.
Perfectionism is a trap. A well-lit one.

And yet—
It must be hard, trying to raise a child to feel both parented and free.
Pull them too close, and they might grow entitled.
Push them too far, and they might feel alien.

So we aim for the balance.
Easier said.

This morning, I couldn’t trace my favorite earrings.
Wow, girl.
You really chose the high road—to just use them without asking? 🤷🏾‍♀️
Guess we’ll be having one of our “democratic chats” this evening. 😏