Your Child Is Fine. You?

October 09, 2025

A mother and daughter play on a couch — Photo courtesy of the author

By Sheena Low

“Out of all the parenting experts I’ve ever interviewed, Dr. Shefali has been one of my favourites.” – Oprah Winfrey

So yeah—when Oprah says that, you show up.

20 August 2025. There I was. Bangkok. Parenting workshop. Clutching a ฿130 matcha that tasted like regret. Mostly because it took ten minutes to arrive, which made me late. And in those ten minutes, I missed Dr. Shefali’s opening.

Apparently, she began by warning the audience not to expect the polished, poetic voice from her books. In person, she’s brusque, hilarious, and bordering on politically incorrect. Which, honestly, made me think popcorn and soda would’ve been a better choice than my matcha.

Luckily, I caught the rest. And wow. It wasn’t a cosy parenting pep talk—it was a spiritual slap. The good kind. I walked in expecting gentle tips on being a “better mum”. Instead, I got a mirror. One that was thought-provoking and, in many ways, reaffirmed what I already knew and felt instinctively. Probably because I’ve been wading in inner work for the past three years.

Step one: fire your ego as CEO

Shefali’s big theme was ego. How it sneaks into parenting. How it makes our children responsible for our self-worth. How it whispers, “Fix your kid so you can feel like a good parent.”

Parenting from ego is really just parenting from fear: fear of judgment, fear of not being enough, fear of your child reflecting something in you that you haven’t healed. Her antidote? Stop parenting from fear, control, and expectations.

But here’s what left me pondering: why does the ego exist and how do we stop worshipping it?

I think the ego exists because we’re addicted to external validation. Praise, applause, likes, gold stars. Instead of trying to crush it, I’m learning to give it what it’s actually craving: self-love. Deep, grounded, internal validation. When I do that, the toxic grasp of “Do they see me? Approve of me? Think I’m enough?” loosens.

How annoying that yet again self-love is the answer to almost every personal question I’ve had lately.

The pressure of being your pride and joy

Then came this line: “To be the child of an amazing mother, do you know how amazing your child has to be?” At first it sounded poetic. Then it sank in. That’s a heavy burden to put on a kid. The expectation to be “amazing” all the time can be crushing.

I thought of my own daughter. How often I go into full cheerleader mode over her most average achievements. On the surface it looks like love. But underneath? I’m teaching her that performance equals worth. That love comes when she shines, not when she’s simply herself.

That realisation hit home. Because if I want her to feel enough, I have to believe I am enough too… really believe, and that requires real work.

Cheer less, connect more

At five months in the womb, girls turn toward their mother’s voice. Girls are wired for connection. They tune in early. They catch the unsaid. The other day, Augie asked me, “What makes a sound?” She asks these curious, wondrous things all the time. And sometimes, I’m not fully there. Maybe I’m scrolling. And she says, “Mommy, I’m talking to you. Why are you not answering me?”

Knife to the heart. Served with a side of mom guilt.

That’s when I realised: she’s not just making conversation. She’s checking if I’m present. And presence, not praise, is what she really craves.

Stop taming the wild

Even though I’m raising a girl, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Shefali said about boys. If we truly want to take care of our girls, we need to take better care of our boys.

She described boys as “25 monkeys in a room.” That’s their raw energy. And she’s not saying control it—she’s saying guide it. Honor it.

When we scold or shame their natural loudness, curiosity, and chaos, we don’t teach discipline; we teach disconnection. And disconnected boys often grow into men who don’t know how to name their emotions. Who confuse dominance with strength. Who explode or implode in the face of failure, leading to the risk of violent behaviour in adulthood.

If we want our daughters to live in a safer world, we must raise boys who are emotionally whole. Which means letting them be wild and messy, while also modeling tenderness.

Conscious parenting isn’t about being softer. It’s about being braver. And that scares me, but it’s also where the change begins.

The algorithm is not her parent

Shefali confessed she gave her daughter a phone too early. “I didn’t know she’d outsource her self-worth to likes and comments. The curve of her neck is completely changed.” Her daughter is now 22. Her hindsight is our warning.

She says 16 is about the right age for social media because kids need a solid sense of self before handing it over to an algorithm.

And it’s not just about them. She also said, “If your lap isn’t vacant, your child has nowhere to land.” Obviously it’s a metaphor for the all-too-familiar scenario of a parent doom scrolling. Your lap isn’t free. Your child notices. She needs you available. Not perfect. Just available.

A final truth bomb from a random bookshop detour

Later that afternoon, I wandered into Kinokuniya. Total impulse. I rarely buy physical books, but I picked one up. That night, I opened it to this line:

“The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it.”
– Mitch Albom, “Tuesdays with Morrie”

I immediately pictured Shefali on stage, arms raised, shouting: “DO. NOT. WORSHIP. CULTURE.”

Because culture sells us shame in shiny packaging. And conscious parenting is about refusing to buy it.

TL;DR: be less perfect, be more present

Shefali doesn’t give parenting hacks. She gives wake-up calls. She doesn’t tell us how to raise perfect kids. She invites us to raise ourselves.

And maybe that’s the hardest part. Not just loving our children but loving ourselves enough to show up real.

Our kids don’t need us to be amazing. They just need us to be here.

About the Author

Sheena is a mother to three-year-old August, runs Super Fly Honey, a brand that makes technical activewear for pole dancers around the world, and dreams about writing children’s books. After three years with a lot of yoga, deep friendships, purposeful retreats and IFS therapy, she realizes that becoming a mother is actually a superpower.