Most of us believe that love means helping.
We help our children when they are small.
We guide them when they are uncertain.
We support them when they stumble.
We sacrifice for them when they cannot yet stand on their own.
That is what parents and grandparents do.
But what happens when the child is no longer a child?
What happens when helping becomes a habit?
And perhaps the hardest question of all:
What happens when our help prevents our adult children from growing up, growing out, and taking responsibility?
For many years, I believed that if I could help, I should help.
As parents, there seems to be a subtle, unspoken obligation to step in and fix things.
If there was a problem, I tried to solve it.
If there was a bill, I tried to pay it.
If there was a burden, I tried to carry it.
At first, this felt like love.
It felt like I was relieving their burden and giving them a nudge toward an easier life.
But over time, I began to wonder whether there is a difference between helping someone, rescuing them, and enabling them.
I began to wonder whether constant help can unintentionally create dependence or the expectation that someone else will always step in.
The difference is subtle.
Helping gives someone support while they climb.
Rescuing carries them up the mountain.
One builds strength.
The other creates dependence.
I do not believe most parents set out to create dependence.
Quite the opposite.
We want our children to succeed.
We want them to avoid the mistakes we made.
We want life to be easier for them than it was for us.
Yet life has a curious way of teaching lessons that cannot be learned second-hand.
Responsibility is one of those lessons.
At some point, every adult must discover that their life belongs to them.
Their choices.
Their consequences.
Their victories.
Their setbacks.
No parent can live those experiences on their behalf.
Recently, I found myself reflecting on this reality.
I realised that what I wanted most for someone I love was not comfort.
It was freedom.
Not the freedom to avoid responsibility.
The freedom that comes from accepting responsibility.
The freedom that comes from earning your own way.
The freedom that comes from standing on your own feet and knowing that you can survive life’s challenges.
That realisation was not easy.
In fact, it may be one of the most difficult lessons a parent can learn.
Because letting go can feel like abandonment.
It can feel unkind.
It can feel as though we are withdrawing our love.
But perhaps true love is not measured by how much we carry for another person.
Perhaps it is measured by our willingness to believe they are capable of carrying themselves.
Sometimes love provides shelter.
Sometimes love provides guidance.
And sometimes love steps aside and says:
“I believe in you enough to let you take responsibility for your own life.”
That is not rejection.
That is respect.
It is acknowledging the strength and potential that already exists within another person.
The truth is that letting go is rarely comfortable.
It requires faith.
It requires accepting that, as a parent, you have done your best to raise children who are well-adjusted, capable, and able to hold their own in the world.
It requires courage.
And it requires us to release control over outcomes we cannot guarantee, while remaining available with love, guidance, and encouragement.
Yet perhaps that is why it is one of love’s greatest tests.
Not because it is easy.
But because it is hard.
Very hard.
Perhaps the hardest part of love is not holding on.
Perhaps the hardest part of love is letting go.
Today’s Thought
Love is not always found in what we do for others.
Sometimes it is found in what we allow them to do for themselves.
If you’d like to share your thoughts, you’re welcome to contact me at books@eugenemarillier.com
I also publish reflective essays and ongoing writing at www.eugenemarillier.com
With love always,
Eugene Marillier 🌿🕊️
