The human tongue is more poisonous than a bee’s sting. (Vietnamese Proverb).

Encouraging personal growth is fundamental. As parents, our role isn’t just about setting limits or keeping our teens on track. It’s about helping them grow into the people they’re meant to be. We should continuously support and encourage our teens in their journey of personal growth. Whether it’s pursuing their goals, overcoming challenges, or trying something new, we must be there to cheer them on and provide guidance along the way. But this support isn’t always about fixing or correcting; often, it’s about how we communicate, how we frame our feedback, and how we show up in the tough conversations. One of the most powerful shifts we can make is learning the difference between criticism and critique and leaning hard into the latter.

I often have conversations with parents about this distinction, because it comes up a lot. It’s so easy to get caught up in the things that aren’t going according to plan. Maybe your teen is slacking on homework, making questionable choices about their friend group, or not showing the same drive you hoped for in sports or extracurriculars. Our instinct, driven by love and concern, is to fix it. And in that moment, it’s easy for our words intended as advice or “real talk” to slide into criticism.

Here’s the thing about criticism: it attacks the person. In the context of parenting teens, it can be mean. I know that’s a strong word, and no parent wants to think of themselves that way. But it’s important to see how criticism, even when rooted in good intentions, can come off as hurtful or even harsh. You start out meaning to offer guidance, to steer them back on track, and before you know it, you’re listing all the things they did wrong, all the ways they disappointed, all the risks they’re taking. That kind of feedback doesn’t land as love. It lands as rejection. And for a teen who’s still figuring out who they are, criticism can feel like an attack on their identity.

Think of it like this: your teen is like a styrofoam cup: whole, capable, and holding it together. Criticism acts like sharp little punctures to that cup. The more we go on, the more holes we punch, until the water, the trust, the communication, the relationship starts leaking out. We may try to patch it up with apologies, pep talks, or a “you know I love you,” but the damage can be hard to undo. And when teens feel attacked, they don’t just go quiet they often go on the defensive. They argue, withdraw, or double down on the very choices we’re trying to steer them away from. The result? Yelling matches, slammed doors, silence. We lose the unity and connection we’re trying so hard to build.
Now let me be clear: I’m not suggesting we stop giving feedback. Quite the opposite. Our teens need guidance. They need our insight. But they also need to be treated with respect, and they need the space to grow into their own thinking. That’s where critique comes in.

Critique is a different kind of conversation. It’s constructive, not destructive. Instead of attacking the person, it focuses on the behavior, the choice, or the outcome. It invites reflection, encourages problem-solving, and here’s the big one: it helps teens grow. Critique enhances performance. It says, “I see you, I believe in you, and I want to help you get better.” It builds skills that will serve them well for years to come.

Imagine you’re talking to your teen after they’ve bombed a test. A critical response might sound like, “I told you to study harder. You always do this—you wait until the last minute, and now look.” Cue the eye roll, the sigh, the wall going up. But a critique might sound like, “How do you think your study habits affected your performance on this one? What would you do differently next time?” That opens up a dialogue. It gives them ownership. And it shows them you’re there not just to judge the outcome, but to help them grow from it.

That kind of conversation builds trust. It also builds critical thinking. Teens need to practice evaluating their own choices, learning from outcomes, and adjusting their strategies. That’s a life skill. Whether they’re in college, at work, or navigating relationships, they’re going to face situations where they’ll need to stop and think, “What worked here? What didn’t? How can I improve next time?” If we can coach them through that now, we’re not just helping them succeed, we’re helping them mature.

This doesn’t mean you let everything slide or that there are no consequences. It just means the way you deliver your message matters. Try opening up with something like, “I think you’ll get better results if you try ____what do you think?” or “If you could do this all over again, what would you change?” These kinds of questions invite conversation. They make space for your teen to reflect, and they keep the communication flowing. It’s not about having all the answers, it’s about being a safe place for your teen to wrestle with the questions.

Critique also models something powerful: the ability to reflect and improve. And that’s something we can demonstrate ourselves. When we mess up as parents and we all do it’s okay to say, “I came down a little hard there. Let’s rewind and talk through what happened in a better way.” That kind of humility teaches teens that growth is a lifelong process, and that it’s okay to stumble as long as we keep learning.

Encouraging personal growth also means letting go, just a little. As parents, we might have a vision of what success looks like, but our teen’s version might look different. Part of their personal growth is figuring out what they value, what they enjoy, and what kind of person they want to become. We can’t choose their goals for them. But we can ask about them. We can listen. We can support. And when they fall short or change direction, we can be the steady voice that says, “I’m here, and I still believe in you.”

It also means checking ourselves when we’re tempted to coach from the sidelines in ways that might overstep. If your teen plays sports, for example, let the coach do the coaching. Your role? Be their biggest cheerleader. Celebrate their efforts, their hustle, their sportsmanship. The same goes for academics, the arts, or any other pursuit. Praise the process, not just the outcome. Say things like, “I saw how hard you worked on that,” or “I loved how you kept going even when it got tough.” That kind of encouragement fuels growth far more than pointing out what didn’t go right.

Now, I know this shift from criticism to critique isn’t always easy. Especially in those moments when emotions are high, and you’re worried or frustrated. But the more you practice it, the more natural it becomes. And over time, your teen will start to respond differently. They’ll be more open. More honest. More willing to evaluate their choices and take responsibility. Because they’ll feel safe. And in that safety, they’ll grow.

We want our teens to be resilient, capable, thoughtful adults. That’s not something that happens overnight. It’s built in the daily conversations, in the small moments of reflection, in the grace we extend to them (and to ourselves). When we choose critique over criticism, we send the message that growth is always possible, and that love doesn’t waver just because outcomes fall short.

So, the next time you’re tempted to go into fix-it mode, take a breath. Ask a question. Start a dialogue. Your teen might not always give you the answer you expect but they will remember that you treated them like someone worth listening to. And that, more than anything, will keep them coming back to you for support, guidance, and love.

Let’s be their guide, their coach in thinking, their sounding board. Let’s build the kind of relationship where they know they can fail and still be valued, where they can grow without fear, and where they can hear hard truths because they know those truths come from a place of unconditional love.

At the heart of it all, this is what encouraging personal growth looks like. It’s messy and beautiful, frustrating and rewarding. But it’s the work that matters most. Because one day, they’ll be out there navigating life on their own and the tools we give them now, through thoughtful critique and unwavering support, will be the ones they carry with them into adulthood.