There are phrases we say with the best intentions in the world, but without realizing it, they leave a much deeper mark than we imagine. «Don’t cry about it,» «It’s over now,» «It’s not a big deal,» «Big kids don’t cry»—these are such common expressions that we hardly notice them when we say them, and yet each one sends a very clear message to a child’s brain: that what they’re feeling shouldn’t be happening, or at least they shouldn’t show it. Understanding what really happens when a child cries, and what happens when that crying is minimized time and again, can completely change the way we support their emotional world.
Crying in childhood isn’t simply a sign of weakness or a passing whim; it’s actually one of the body’s first and most effective ways of releasing tension and communicating a need. From infancy, crying serves as the primary channel of communication before verbal language even exists. And although children gradually acquire words to name what they feel, crying remains for many years an absolutely necessary outlet for intense emotions such as frustration, fear, sadness, or even anger. When a child cries and a close adult calmly accompanies them, without rushing or silencing them, the body has the opportunity to complete this release process, and when it’s over, the nervous system usually returns to a state of calm naturally.
The problem arises when, instead of supporting this process, we constantly interrupt it with messages that aim to stop the crying as quickly as possible. Phrases like «there, there, it’s okay,» said in a hurried tone, or outright commands like «stop crying right now,» while seemingly harmless, teach the child over time that their emotions are a problem to be solved quickly, rather than a normal human experience that deserves space. This is known as emotional invalidation, and when it occurs repeatedly throughout childhood, it has measurable consequences on how emotional regulation skills develop.
It’s worth pausing here to consider what it truly means to regulate an emotion, because it’s often confused with not feeling it. Regulating an emotion isn’t about avoiding or repressing it; it’s about being able to identify it, tolerate it while it lasts, and find a way to return to a calm state without denying it or letting it become completely overwhelming. This ability isn’t innate; it’s built gradually during childhood through a process called co-regulation. This essentially means that the child learns to calm themselves because an adult first accompanies them externally in this process, often by holding their cries with presence, physical contact, and soothing words. Over time, this repeated experience of being accompanied becomes internalized, and the child begins to develop their own capacity for self-regulation.
When crying is systematically minimized, this co-regulation process remains incomplete. The child learns to suppress the outward expression of emotion, but the emotion itself doesn’t disappear; it simply loses a healthy outlet. Over the years, this can translate into various forms of emotional difficulty, from children who appear extremely calm on the outside but have actually learned to disconnect from what they feel, to adolescents and adults who experience disproportionate emotional outbursts because they never learned to identify or process their emotions when they were young and had all the support available to do so.
There is also an important relational effect worth mentioning. When a child repeatedly feels that their crying makes the adults they love uncomfortable or upset, they begin to associate showing vulnerability with the risk of losing closeness or approval. This can sow the seeds of difficulty later on in asking for help or sharing difficult emotions with others, including partners and friends in adulthood, because the early learning was that expressing pain generates rejection rather than support.
So, what can we do differently? The answer isn’t dramatic or complicated; it’s simply about giving crying the space it deserves. This means approaching instead of rushing, saying things like, «I see this is making you very sad, I’m here with you,» instead of trying to shut down the emotion as quickly as possible. It also means resisting the temptation to compare crying to situations that seem minor to us as adults, because what may seem insignificant from our perspective can feel enormous from the perspective of a child who is just learning to gauge the intensity of their own emotions. And above all, it means trusting that crying
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