The Paradox of Intimacy
Intimacy is a strange thing. It asks us to be both strong and exposed. Real and meaningful connection doesn’t come from pretending we’ve got it all together — it’s about letting someone see the parts of you that are fragile, uncertain, or even messy.
But here’s the kicker: it takes real strength to be vulnerable. And it takes real vulnerability to build intimacy.
At the same time, holding space for someone else’s struggle—without fixing, judging, or walking away—requires a different kind of strength. One rooted not in control, but in vulnerability.
There are few relationships where this paradox is more prevailing than the relationship between a parent and a child. Parenting is an art of balancing strength with vulnerability – a delicate dance of guidance, love, and respect for your child’s growing autonomy.
I have five kids. And for whatever reason, I’m often asked for parenting advice. My answer usually sounds something like this:
The goal of good parenting is to raise morally grounded independent adults. The tension in that is ‘independent children’.
Letting go might be the hardest part of parenting. That’s why intimacy is crucial.
Parenting Isn’t Control—It’s Connection
It’s easy to want to protect your kids. We don’t want them to get hurt, mess up, or lose. But the truth? They need to stumble.
That’s how they get strong.
That’s how they learn who they are.
This process is inherently filled with tension. As parents, we naturally want to shield our children from failure and hurt, yet the very act of stepping back and letting them experience setbacks is essential for building resilience, self-confidence, and an ethical framework that will serve them for life.
In the early years, we’re the fortress—structure, protection, comfort. But eventually, we become the guidepost. Still present. Still steady. But no longer steering the ship.
This shift—from fortress to guidepost—is where authority and vulnerability intersect. Letting go isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom.
Mistakes, while painful in the moment, are the building blocks of a resilient mindset. They allow our kids to learn problem-solving, self-awareness, and personal responsibility.
This is where authority, vulnerability, and intimacy all come together.
Real authority doesn’t come from control — it comes from being willing to be known.
Vulnerability, far from being weakness, is the doorway to connection.
And intimacy is the byproduct of both: the result of leading with strength and loving with openness.
What the “Yes Brain” Got Right
Daniel J. Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson write about this in The Yes Brain. They encourage parents to cultivate a mindset that’s open, curious, and resilient—not just in kids, but in ourselves. That stuck with me.
A “yes brain” home isn’t permissive. It’s grounded. It says, “You’re safe here. You can mess up. You’ll learn. I’m with you.” They’re not saying, “Let your kid do whatever.” They’re saying, “Give your kid room to learn. Give them space to choose. Help them feel safe enough to try.”
A “yes brain” child isn’t afraid of mistakes. They know it’s okay to mess up—and come back stronger.
But that starts with us.
It’s extremely powerful to hear someone say, ‘I get you. I understand. I see why you feel this way.’
That kind of empathy isn’t soft. It’s steady. It models emotional regulation, not emotional avoidance.
Validation isn’t weakness. It’s a bridge.
Raise Adults, Not Just Obedient Kids
Raising kids who can think for themselves means modeling the hard stuff.
When we name the feelings—our own and theirs—we show them how to handle life with grace. We help them calm their storm. We help them build emotional muscle. That’s what creates real trust.
When our kids see us owning our flaws and still showing up, they learn that morality isn’t about perfection—it’s about being real.
Integrity. Empathy. Self-reflection.
It means owning your screw-ups. Apologizing. Asking better questions.
You want your kid to grow into someone trustworthy?
Be someone they can trust.
Not because you’re perfect. But because you’re real.
When we lead with honesty, we show them that values aren’t about control. They’re about conviction. About making good choices when no one’s watching.
And that’s the thread, right?
Authority without vulnerability becomes control.
Vulnerability without authority becomes chaos.
But together? They create intimacy—the kind that holds steady through all the beautiful, painful, messy growth ahead.
Letting Go Is Part of Loving Well
This is the hard part.
You do everything right—and they still get hurt.
You teach them to be kind—and they still say something cruel.
You give them tools—and they still build something you didn’t expect.
It’s scary, vulnerable, Holy work.
In her book Daring Greatly, Brené Brown says,
Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weaknesses.
That’s what letting go looks like: truth and courage. Staying connected even when you can’t control.
Loving deeply, even when it costs you comfort.
The Real Win
In the end, parenting isn’t about raising perfect kids.
It’s about helping them become wise, kind, independent adults.
It’s about staying close, even as they move away.
That kind of parenting doesn’t just build independence. It builds trust. It builds connection. It builds a life.
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