Many people have voiced concerns about how “kids these days” are overly sheltered. We often shield them from failure and disappointment, which may hinder their ability to develop resilience and cope with life's challenges.

In order for children to build resilience, they must confront life's setbacks and learn how to endure difficulties. However, this isn’t a survival game, and I’m not a character ready for the trials.

Let me share a little story.

Yesterday started like any ordinary Saturday. I traveled from our rural home to meet a client, expecting to be back shortly. However, a blizzard hit, drastically reducing visibility.

Getting home was about to become a challenge.

I tried my best. I’m not an anxious driver and am familiar with the back roads. I have all-wheel drive and a determination to get home, but I also value my safety. The back roads were blocked with snowdrifts, so I opted for the highway.

Living in the prairies means flat terrain, but with numerous farmers' fields lining the highway. When snow and wind collide, it creates hazardous driving conditions.

Due to frequent winter storms, there’s a gate at a weigh station for trucks. If conditions are deemed unsafe, authorities close the gate to prevent traffic.

After abandoning the back route, I found myself stuck in a lengthy line of trucks, with the highway closed.

Typically, the highway remains shut for a few hours until the storm subsides and crews can clear the roads. Then, the gate reopens, and we can continue.

I checked the weather and figured I could wait a bit. I treated myself to coffee and a newspaper (a rarity these days), and prepared to pass the time.

I waited, enjoyed my coffee, and worked on a crossword puzzle.

Two hours in, the storm intensified, and I regretted that coffee. Thankfully, I reached out to a friend nearby and stopped by for a visit. After another hour, I returned to my place in line.

More waiting ensued.

Five hours had passed, and all I had consumed was coffee. Luckily, my spot was right in front of a sandwich shop, perfect for hungry truckers.

Unfortunately, my Celiac disease prevents me from eating gluten. Though I usually avoid fast food, I was hoping they might have gluten-free options.

No such luck. Frustration set in.

The nearest gluten-free eatery was ten minutes away, in the opposite direction.

I spun around and returned to the city, knowing I needed food to avoid a breakdown. Surprisingly, I remained calm throughout the ordeal.

While patience is not my strong suit, I tend to manage well under pressure.

As I awaited my meal, I searched for nearby hotels. Darkness fell, and the storm showed no signs of letting up.

It turned out that many other stranded travelers had the same idea; every hotel was fully booked.

I needed a plan.

I headed to a nearby store to buy clean socks, underwear, and some reading material, just in case I was stranded. I also stopped by a liquor store for some essentials. After confirming no hotels had availability, I decided to check the back roads again. If that failed, I’d have to reach out to my friend for a couch or venture further into the city.

Fortunately, visibility improved in the darkness, and the wind had calmed. I joined a line of cars, which allowed us to support each other if needed.

Nearly seven hours after my initial attempt, I finally made it home.

And promptly got stuck in my own driveway.

What does this have to do with kids?

A few years ago, I might have had a total meltdown when faced with such challenges. I would have been furious at the sandwich shop for lacking gluten-free bread or the hotels for being fully booked.

While I had fleeting moments of frustration towards drivers who hadn’t turned on their lights, I managed to contain my irritation. I consider that a significant accomplishment.

When I got stuck in my driveway, I laughed. After spending hours in a blizzard, I ended up in a snowbank at home. That was a problem for future me. I still had wine and books to enjoy.

Returning to my main point: what allows me to stay calm in the midst of chaos, like a blizzard with no escape route?

Is it because I’ve faced numerous challenges in my life?

Not exactly.

Remember when I mentioned that until recently, I would have lost my cool? I was serious. Any setback would have pushed me over the edge.

So what’s different now? Have I learned to manage expectations and not rely on anyone else?

Actually, it’s the opposite. The realization that no one would come to my rescue, paired with repeated experiences of “tough love,” left me feeling overwhelmed.

Now, my life is considerably less stressful than it once was, which has helped me expand my previously short fuse. I have a supportive husband, a caring partner, and a wonderful son. Our love for him is immense.

These factors provide me with a sense of fulfillment. Feeling supported, loved, and less stressed fosters greater tolerance.

Research backs this up for both adults and children, yet many continue to criticize parents for being overly lenient. We are often labeled as helicopter parents or snowflakes, too timid to establish boundaries.

Even if you don't see a problem with bullying children—though you should—there's a strong argument for treating them kindly. Kindness teaches children compassion, while harshness breeds cruelty.

> “By the way they treat children, many traditionally minded parents are also setting an example of disrespectful behaviour for them — and are likely to be outraged if the children proceed to imitate what they’ve seen.” — Alfie Kohn

It’s complicated, yet simple.

When children encounter relentless adversity, they don’t develop resilience; they foster insecurity. Continuous stress breaks them down rather than “toughening” them.

I’m not suggesting we wrap our kids in cotton wool and never let them out of our sight. On the contrary, I advocate for independence and autonomy.

What I mean is that life will present enough challenges (or blizzards); we don’t need to add to their anxiety.

We should create a safe haven for our children to return to after a tough day, where they can express their fears without being told to toughen up. A space where they feel wholly accepted and supported, enabling them to face challenges and return safely.

This way, our children are less likely to throw tantrums in public or lash out at other drivers during a storm.

Regardless, I can’t guarantee they won’t end up stuck in the driveway (is it spring yet?).

© Jillian Enright, Neurodiversity MB