Let me start by saying something that will hopefully keep my inbox from catching fire.

I am a parent too.

I’ve raised kids. I’ve coached kids. I’ve taught thousands of kids. And for more than 30 years, I’ve had conversations with parents about kids. So when I say “The Lies Parents Tell Ourselves,” I’m not standing on some parenting mountaintop looking down at everyone else. I’ve told myself some of them too.

They’re usually not malicious lies. In fact, most of them come from a good place. We love our kids. We want them to be happy. We don’t want to see them struggle. And sometimes we’re just tired.

But every once in a while, we need to be willing to ask ourselves whether the story we’re telling ourselves is actually true…or whether it’s simply the story that makes the decision easier.

Here are a few I’ve heard over the years.

“I’m doing it for my child.”

Maybe.

But sometimes you’re doing it because you’re tired of hearing them complain.

There. I said it. 😂

They don’t want to go to class. You tell them they’re going. They complain. You argue. They complain some more. Eventually, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons have turned into hostage negotiations.

And finally we think:

This isn’t worth it. I’m not fighting this battle anymore.

I GET IT.

But that’s different from saying we’re quitting for them. Sometimes we’re quitting for us. We’re choosing peace tonight over a battle we believe might benefit them five years from now.

And sometimes that’s a perfectly reasonable decision. But let’s at least be honest with ourselves about which decision we’re making.

“He’s just not interested anymore.”

Maybe.

Or maybe he’s having a hard month. Maybe he didn’t get promoted when he thought he would. Maybe the material got harder. Maybe his friend quit. Maybe another student passed him. Maybe he’s frustrated because something that used to come easily suddenly doesn’t. Maybe he’s discovered that getting good at something eventually requires doing it after it stops being new and exciting.

That’s a pretty important lesson.

We have developed a strange tendency to interpret a child’s temporary lack of enthusiasm as evidence that an activity is no longer right for them. Those aren’t the same thing.

I’ve been doing martial arts for more than 30 years. I haven’t been excited to go to class every single day for 30 years. Sometimes I didn’t feel like training. Sometimes I was frustrated. Sometimes I plateaued. Sometimes life was busy.

That’s not a sign that something is wrong. That’s what sticking with something looks like.

“We’re just going to take a break and come back in a month or two.”

Oh boy. I’ve heard this one a few times. 😂

And maybe you will.

But my 30 years of completely unofficial statistics say otherwise. Most “breaks” aren’t breaks. They’re quits with better PR.

The routine disappears. Tuesday gets filled with something else. Thursday gets filled with something else. A couple months go by. Then coming back feels awkward. They’re behind their friends. They don’t remember everything. They’re embarrassed.

And suddenly the one-month break has become six months. Then a year. Then I run into them at Kroger when they’re 22 and they say:

“Man, I wish I would’ve gotten my black belt.”

Me too, buddy. Me too.

“You only want us to stay because we’re paying you.”

Sigh.

Yes.

Championship Martial Arts is a business. We have employees. Rent. Insurance. Utilities. Payroll. And apparently Century Martial Arts has no interest in giving me uniforms for free. So yes, students paying tuition is generally preferable to students not paying tuition. 😂

But here’s what I wish parents could see.

I’ve spent 30 years watching what happens after these decisions. I’ve seen the kid who wanted to quit become a black belt. I’ve seen the painfully shy kid become a leader. I’ve seen the kid who cried because something was hard eventually teach that same skill to someone else. I’ve watched kids grow up. And I’ve run into former students years later who tell me they wish they’d stayed.

So when I push back a little when a parent tells me Johnny wants to quit, it isn’t because I’m desperately trying to save one tuition payment. We’re going to be ok. It’s because I’ve seen this movie before.

A lot.

And I know some of the possible endings.

“I don’t want to force them to do something they don’t want to do.”

This may be the biggest one. Because we force our children to do things they don’t want to do all the time.

Go to school.

Do your homework.

Brush your teeth.

Take a shower.

Go to bed.

Clean your room.

Eat something besides chicken nuggets.

Put on pants. (Apparently pants are non-negotiable in most public establishments.)

We don’t require these things because children don’t know what they like or dislike. Of course they do. We require them because children are not yet capable of consistently weighing short-term discomfort against long-term consequences.

That’s why they have parents. Sometimes parenting means saying:

“I understand that you don’t want to do this today. You’re still doing it.”

That’s not cruel. That’s parenting.

“They can always come back when they’re ready.”

Absolutely. Our door will be open.

But there’s an uncomfortable second half to that sentence:

Most don’t.

Because momentum matters. Routine matters. Relationships matter. Progress matters.

When you remove all of those things, returning becomes harder with every passing month.

Could they come back?

Of course.

But if we genuinely believe an activity is helping our child become stronger, more confident, more disciplined, healthier, or better equipped for life, maybe the better question isn’t whether they can come back someday.

Maybe it’s whether leaving right now is actually necessary.

“They’ve/We’ve just got too much going on.”

Do they/you? Or do they/you just not want to go?

Because I’m going to call us all out on this one.

I know we have Netflix accounts full of shows and movies marked “Already Watched.” I know our weekly screen-time reports are measured in hours, not minutes. I know we’ve somehow found time for YouTube, TikTok, video games, scrolling, hanging out with friends, and watching three episodes of a show we don’t even particularly like.

And I’m not judging. I do it too.

But let’s stop saying we don’t have time. We have time.

What we don’t always have is the willpower to use it on the things we’ve decided are important. There’s a difference.

Now, are some kids legitimately overscheduled? Absolutely. There are seasons when school, sports, family, homework, and life collide and something genuinely has to give.

But before we decide that the thing to give is the activity teaching our child discipline, commitment, perseverance, time management, and how to show up when they don’t feel like it, maybe we should take a look at the screen-time report first.

Because someday they’re going to be adults with jobs, families, bills, responsibilities, and a dozen things competing for their attention. They aren’t going to magically have more time then either. They’re going to have to learn to prioritize. To manage their time. To do important things even when something easier and more entertaining is available.

We all have time.

What we don’t always have is the willpower. And learning to choose what matters over what feels good right now?

That’s kind of the whole point.

“I just want them to be happy.”

Of course you do. So do I.

But this may be the most dangerous lie of all—not because wanting our children to be happy is wrong, but because of how easily we confuse happiness with comfort. They’re not the same thing.

My job as a parent isn’t to make sure my child never experiences frustration. Or boredom. Or disappointment. Or failure. Or embarrassment. Or struggle.

My job is to help raise a human being who knows what to do when those things happen. Because they’re going to happen…A lot.

The world isn’t going to rearrange itself someday because our kids are uncomfortable. Their boss won’t. Their spouse won’t. Their professors won’t. Their bills certainly won’t.

One of the greatest gifts we can give our children is the experience of doing something difficult, wanting to stop, continuing anyway…and eventually realizing:

“Holy cow. I can do hard things.”

That’s confidence. Not being told you’re amazing. Not getting a trophy. Not avoiding anything that makes you uncomfortable. Confidence comes from accumulating evidence that you can handle difficult things.

So…Should You Never Let Your Child Quit?

Of course not. Sometimes quitting is absolutely the right decision. Activities stop being healthy. Circumstances change. Finances change. Schedules become impossible. Kids genuinely discover that something isn’t for them.

There is no medal waiting for parents who force their children to continue every activity they’ve ever started until they’re 18. That’s not my point.

My point is that before we let our children walk away from something that we once believed was good for them, we owe them—and ourselves—a little honesty.

Is this really what is best for my child? Or am I tired of fighting about it?

Have they genuinely lost interest? Or are they going through a difficult season?

Do they really have too much going on? Or have we decided that this is the easiest thing to remove?

Are we giving them agency? Or are we asking a child to make a long-term decision based entirely on how they feel today?

Because after 30 years of teaching martial arts, I’ve heard former students say a lot of things.

I’ve heard: “I wish I hadn’t quit.”

I’ve heard: “I wish my parents had made me stay.”

I’ve heard: “I wish I’d gotten my black belt.”

But there’s one sentence I honestly can’t remember hearing: “I’m really glad my parents let me quit when they did.”

Not once.

So no, I don’t think parents should force their children to do martial arts forever. I do think there are some battles worth fighting for the good of our children. And sometimes the hardest part of parenting isn’t knowing what our child wants.

It’s loving them enough to see farther down the road than they can.