THE DAY I STOPPED TELLING MY MOTHER THINGS,I was nine.

We were moving around a lot back then, so life was always a little different.

Different houses.

Different streets.

Different people.

But I was having a good time.I was in Class Six, which felt very important at nine years old.And I was a good kid.I knew the rules.I knew what was right.I knew what was wrong.

One day, while I was going about my business, a boy stopped me.He was also in primary school, although he looked a little older than me.He wanted to talk to me.Then he told me he liked me.Then he asked me to be his girlfriend.I said no.Of course I said no.I was a good kid.😂And I went home absolutely delighted.Not because I wanted to be his girlfriend.Because something had happened.Something interesting.And I had a story to tell.

I found my mother.

“Mummy!”And I told her everything.This boy had stopped me.He said he liked me.He asked me to be his girlfriend.And I said no.Look at me.I did the right thing.I was probably expecting a little bit of praise.

Instead, my mother said,“Okay. If it happens again, don’t stand there and entertain him.Once you’ve told him you’re not interested, walk away.”Fair enough.Except…I didn’t really understand how to do that.Because the next time he stopped me, I did tell him I wasn’t interested.But then he kept talking.And I listened.We had a whole conversation.He told me he liked me.I told him I wasn’t interested.

He said this.I said that.Back and forth.And eventually I went home.Bouncing.

Because, again, I had a story.“Mummy! I saw that boy again!”And I told her everything.Again.Except this time…she was angry.Really angry.

“Did I not tell you that if he stops you again, you don’t stand there and listen?”

And then she might have said something like,“Did you like it? Is that why you stood there?”Or maybe she said that another time she was yelling at me…

I don’t remember exactly what I felt in that moment.I don’t remember whether I cried.I don’t remember what I said.But I remember what happened next.I stopped telling my mother things.Not dramatically.I didn’t run away from home.We didn’t stop speaking.I still lived with her.I still talked to her.I still came home.I just stopped bringing her that part of my life.And that was the end of it.

I was thirteen when I started dating.My mother didn’t know.Not because I had suddenly become a rebellious child.I just didn’t tell her.And the funny thing is…the boy from when I was nine?He kept stopping me.He kept talking to me.And I kept talking back.The only difference was that now…my mother didn’t know.

Looking back, I don’t think nine-year-old me was being deliberately disobedient.I had been taught to be nice.To be respectful.To listen when people spoke to me.To be good.And then suddenly I was being asked to do something I had almost no experience doing:

Openly reject someone who was standing right in front of me.I knew I didn’t want him.I had already said no.But walking away while someone was actively talking to me?That felt rude.I didn’t know how to do it.

And honestly, sometimes children aren’t refusing to obey.Sometimes they genuinely don’t yet have the skill we’re asking them to use.

My mother could have said,“Okay. Let’s practise.”

“Pretend I’m the boy.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“What do you say?”

“No, thank you.”

“Good. Now walk away.”

“Okay, what if he follows you?”

“What do you do then?”

We could have practised it.She could have helped me build the skill.Instead, my failure became a reason to yell.And something in me closed.That is the part I think about now as an adult.Because as parents, we can be so focused on getting the behaviour right…that we miss the child underneath it.

We see:“I told you what to do. Why didn’t you do it?”And the child may be experiencing:

“I don’t know how.”Or:

“This feels wrong to me.”

Or:“I tried, but I don’t know how to do what you’re asking.”

And if our response is anger, shame or accusation…we may get the behaviour eventually.But we may also lose access.And I think that is a much bigger loss.Because they don’t stop having experiences, they just stop telling you about them.A

nd if you lose access to your child, you lose the ability to influence them.And that’s where the Flourish Kids Bootcamp comes in — helping parents understand their children, communicate with them, and respond in ways that build connection instead of shutting it down.

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