“How do I handle disappointment when my child forgets a skill he knew?” a parent asked me.
We were talking about the immense effort we put in to help our children learn something. They seem to have mastered it—and then, sometimes, they forget the skill or lose it altogether.
Krishna has lost large chunks of skills. He has gone from a talkative, curious four-year-old who could write and was reasonably self-dependent, to a silent, withdrawn eleven-year-old who does not read or write and needs help for every aspect of his life.
As parents, this is a huge disappointment to face.
And it easily spirals into “why me” and “why my child.”
I don’t know the answer to “why my child.”
If I must invent a reason for what is, I would say it is for me to walk a path in life that I would never have chosen otherwise.
As for effort—no effort is “wasted,” just as energy isn’t wasted or lost; it is always conserved.
The consequence of your effort may be different from what you expected. There may be consequences you haven’t noticed. There may be consequences that will show up in the future, because of this “wasted” effort.
And every effort you make has one clear consequence: it shapes who you are and who you are becoming, irrespective of whether your child progresses the way you expect.
When your child doesn’t progress as expected, it is disappointing.
Certainly.
But it is okay to feel disappointment, grief, rage, and all other difficult emotions.
They need to flow through—and out—without settling and clogging up your mind.
Life is always a mixture of all of this, along with happiness, excitement, wonder, and other positive emotions, isn’t it?
(A small digression: a traditional Tamil New Year’s dish includes all six tastes in the same pachadi, as a reminder of exactly this.)
When you think about it, the choice is simple.
A person choked by disappointment, grief, and rage cannot take action that may lead to positive outcomes.
Because the thoughts become:
“Why bother?”
“What’s the point?”
“It’s useless.”
You can see how this becomes self-defeating.
Instead, if you allow yourself to feel the disappointment—but do not let it colour every step you take or don’t take—the possibilities remain open.
The most immediate consequence of this choice is that you become a more grounded, positive person.
And children respond beautifully to that.
Krishna shows me this every single time—even during his meltdowns.
When I am firm and calm, he feels safe.
He knows he can lean on me.
And he also knows, instantly, when I am faking it.
So how do I stay firm and calm?
By letting disappointment, guilt, “why me,” and other unhelpful emotions pass through me—and out.
By allowing them to temper my spirit, not harden it.
By trusting that no matter how difficult the challenge, and how much it stretches me, it is not beyond my capacity to bear.
Dear parent or caregiver, this is work you have to do for yourself—and on yourself—every single day.
Like brushing your teeth.
