There's a particular kind of pause that happens when I ask parents: "Growing up, what happened when you cried?" Most take a moment. Then: "We were told to stop." Or: "Papa would leave the room." Or, said almost proudly: "We just got on with it. Feelings weren't really discussed."
This is not a story about bad parents. It's a story about a generation — and the one before it — for whom emotional expression was genuinely considered a weakness, a disruption, something to be managed away as quickly as possible. Rona dhona band karo. Baad mein baat karo. Chup ho jao.
And now those children are raising their own children, and they want something different. They've read enough to know that emotional intelligence matters. They just have no lived model for what it actually looks like in practice — because nobody did it for them.
This article is for those parents. It is not about doing everything perfectly. It is about starting from where you are.
What emotional intelligence actually is — and isn't
Emotional intelligence has become something of a parenting buzzword, which means it's accumulated a lot of misunderstanding along with the genuine insight. Before getting into how to build it, it's worth clearing up what it actually means.
Why it starts with you — but not in the way you think
Every piece of emotional intelligence research points to the same thing: children learn emotional literacy primarily through co-regulation before they develop self-regulation. Which means your child doesn't first learn to manage their own feelings — they learn what feelings look like and how they can be survived by watching and experiencing you managing yours alongside them.
This is where parents who grew up in emotionally closed households hit a wall. Not because they can't do it, but because they don't have the automatic language for it. They didn't hear their own parents say "I'm feeling frustrated right now, I need a moment" — so that sentence doesn't come naturally. It has to be learned as an adult, consciously, and it feels awkward at first.
"You don't need to be a perfect emotional role model. You need to be a real one — someone your child watches feeling things, naming things, and coming through."
The place to start is not with your child. It's with yourself — not through therapy necessarily (though that helps), but through the small, daily practice of narrating your own emotional experience out loud. Not dramatically. Just honestly.
"I'm feeling a bit stressed about work today — I might be a little quieter than usual." "That comment from aunty made me feel hurt. I'm going to take a few deep breaths." "I'm proud of how I handled that. It wasn't easy."
Your child is watching. That narration is the curriculum.
The four skills that make up emotional intelligence in children
Emotional intelligence is not one thing. It's a cluster of skills that develop sequentially, and understanding which skill you're trying to build at any given moment makes the work much more focused.
What to say instead — practical language for everyday moments
The most common question I get from parents who want to raise emotionally intelligent children is: "But what do I actually say?" Because knowing the theory and having the words in your mouth in the middle of a difficult moment are two different things.
Here are the reframes that matter most:
"Stop crying" → "I can see you're really upset. I'm here."
"You're fine" → "That felt really scary, didn't it? You're safe now."
"Don't be angry" → "It makes sense you're angry. What happened?"
"You shouldn't feel that way" → "Tell me more about that feeling."
"Big kids don't cry" → "Everyone cries sometimes. It's okay to cry."
"Cheer up / smile" → "You don't have to feel happy right now. I'm with you."
"It's not a big deal" → "It feels like a big deal to you. That matters."
None of these phrases require you to be a different person. They require practice — enough repetitions that they start to come naturally in the moment, rather than only occurring to you an hour later.
The repair — the most underrated emotional intelligence lesson
Every parent who is trying to raise their children differently from how they were raised will, at some point, say something they regret. They will snap. They will dismiss. They will, in a moment of their own overwhelm, say exactly the kind of thing they vowed they never would.
This is not a reason to despair. This is an opportunity for one of the most powerful emotional intelligence lessons you can teach your child: that relationships can rupture and repair, and that the repair matters more than the rupture.
A good repair has three parts: naming what happened ("I raised my voice at you earlier and that wasn't okay"), taking ownership without making the child responsible for managing your feelings ("I was stressed, but that's not your fault"), and reconnecting ("I love you. Are you okay?"). You don't need a long explanation or excessive apologising. Children respond to brevity and warmth. The repair itself — the fact that you came back and named it — is what builds their model of how relationships work when things go wrong.
Raising emotionally intelligent children in a joint family
In many Indian households, the biggest challenge to raising emotionally intelligent children isn't the parent's own emotional history — it's the presence of other adults who operate from a completely different framework. A grandmother who tells a crying child to "stop being a baby." A grandfather who believes that acknowledging a child's feelings will make them weak. An aunt who rewards emotional suppression with praise.
You cannot control what other adults say to your child. What you can do is be the consistent voice that offers something different — and debrief with your child afterwards. "Dadi said boys don't cry. I want you to know that in our family, feelings are okay for everyone. What Dadi said came from how she was raised. I'm going to try to do it differently with you."
Children are extraordinarily good at holding multiple models simultaneously when the adults they love are honest with them about the difference. The conversation itself — naming the discrepancy, explaining it, taking a clear position — is itself an act of emotional intelligence teaching.
If reading this article has brought up your own childhood feelings — grief for what you didn't receive, anger at what you were taught, sadness at the parts of yourself you learned to hide — that's not a distraction from the parenting work. That is the parenting work.
The parents who raise the most emotionally intelligent children are not the ones who had perfect childhoods. They are the ones who are willing to look honestly at their own emotional history, grieve what was missing, and make intentional choices about what to pass on and what to stop here. That is generational change. It is hard, important, and entirely possible.
everyday parenting — practically?