The Emotional Power of Saying “I See You” to Your Child
We often think love needs big moments, gifts, celebrations, or long talks. But for children, emotional security is built in much simpler ways. One of the most powerful things you can say to your child is: “I see you.”
It’s more than just words. It’s a message. It says: I notice you. You matter to me. I’m paying attention.
In a world that’s constantly busy, those three words can make a child feel grounded, valued, and emotionally safe.
Being Seen Is Being Known
For a child, being seen isn’t just about physical presence. It’s about emotional availability. When you acknowledge their feelings, notice their efforts, or affirm who they are, even in passing, you’re reinforcing something crucial: You belong here.
Think of a time your child showed you a drawing, told you a silly story, or came to you upset. Your choice to engage, or to overlook, impacts more than that moment. It shapes how they see themselves.
The Little Phrase That Builds Big Confidence
Saying “I see you” doesn’t always need to be literal. You might say:
- “I noticed how hard you worked on that puzzle.”
- “I saw you being kind to your friend.”
- “I can tell you’re feeling really sad right now.”
Each one tells your child: I’m here with you. I notice what you do. I care about how you feel.
These are the quiet bricks that build self-worth, resilience, and emotional intelligence.
You Don’t Have to Fix Everything
Sometimes, your child doesn’t need a solution, they need your attention. They need to know you’re fully present, not distracted or rushing to the next thing. That simple act of looking them in the eye and saying, “I see you,” can be more healing than any advice you give.
So, the next time your child needs you, even if it’s just for a minute, pause, breathe, and choose to connect. You might be surprised how much those three words matter.
Say it today. Say it often. Say it with love.
Final Thoughts: A Moment of Recognition
In I Wish My Mommy Was an Octopus by Erin Shular, a child wishes their mother had eight arms, enough to do everything at once and still be there for them. But what the story so gently reveals is that what the child truly wants isn’t more arms, it’s more attention. The feeling of being seen. Heard. Loved.
Order your copy of “I Wish My Mommy Was an Octopus” and share this beautiful reminder that presence, not perfection, is what children need most.