Teen boys don’t wake up one day and decide, “Ah yes, today I’ll download some misogyny.” It’s usually quieter than that. A clip here. A “self-improvement” reel there. An algorithm that keeps feeding the same flavour of content until it starts to feel like truth.

That’s why ‘toxic masculinity’ matters. Not because masculinity is bad (it’s not), but because some online spaces sell a narrow, brittle version of it: dominance over empathy, entitlement over respect, feelings are a weakness, porn is education, and consent is negotiable. That worldview can show up as sudden contempt, harsh jokes, controlling behaviour, obsession with status, anxiety about “being a real man,” or pressure to perform sexually before they’re ready. It can also land as loneliness and shame, because the loudest voices online often promise belonging, then charge boys with impossible rules to earn it.

The ‘manosphere’ (think Andrew Tate, Jordan Peterson, Sneako, Fresh and Fit, and plenty of smaller clones) can be sticky because it mixes relatable truths (“life is hard,” “work on yourself”) with harmful conclusions (“power is everything”). Teens are still building identity and values; the internet is happy to build it for them.

So how do we step in as parents, without making every chat feel like an interrogation?

1) Lead with connection, not correction.
Start with curiosity: “What do you like about his content?” “What do you think he gets right?” When your teen feels heard, they stay in the room.

2) Teach pattern-spotting.
Ask: “Who benefits if you believe this?” “What’s the evidence?” “What’s missing?” You’re building critical thinking, not winning a debate.

3) Name your non-negotiables clearly and calmly.
Respect. Consent. Dignity. End of story. Consistent rules, solid boundaries, steady grown-ups – it works.

4) Talk about porn like a safety conversation, not a shame sermon.
Porn is performance, not a relationship guide. Discuss consent, pressure, body image, and what healthy intimacy actually needs – care, mutual respect, and choice.

5) Offer better role models.
Point to men who model strength with kindness. Courage isn’t cruelty. It’s integrity.

Dr Kris Taylor’s evening presentation on 12 March is for all parents, and will be a practical crash course to help whānau understand what your teens are seeing online, and how to talk about gender norms, sexism, harassment, misogyny, and pornography without alienating them. If you’ve been thinking, “I need a game plan,” this is your night.

Learn more and book your tickets here.

Who Should Attend

Dr Taylor will also be facilitating staff training at Te Kura o Tititea Mount Aspiring College, followed by a half-day workshop for Kāhu Youth Trust youth workers and those in the community working with young people. If you would like to find out more about this training workshop, please contact Anna Sutherland at Kahu Youth Trust here.

This is the whakaaro behind Path Wānaka’s Parenting Fest, happening on the 23–24 February at the Community Hub.  We’re inviting parents to step out of the “doing it quietly” zone and into a couple of hours that could genuinely shape their family’s next decade.

1. As part of Path Wānaka’s Youth Survey Project this year, we’re introducing a Parent | Whānau Survey. This facilitated inquiry by Ali McCormick and Gemma McCaw, is about making sure parent insight isn’t an afterthought, but rather the foundation. We want your lived experience to directly shape the themes and questions, so the Whānau survey captures what genuinely matters for families to thrive here. Your voice will also help chart what comes next: a future where our community initiatives and local support services are guided by what families need, not what we assume they need. By sharing your perspective, we ground the survey in real life, not guesswork.

Monday 23 February 9:00AM – 11:30AM @ Wānaka, Community Hub, 34 McDougall St

2. Our Parent Community Evening, hosted by Ali McCormick, Gemma McCaw and Kirsten Roy, will offer a chance for parents to connect in person, locally and honestly. The focus is on strengthening local relationships at a time when so much of our parenting support has shifted online. This is a practical, collaborative session, so whether you’re in the thick of early parenting or navigating the ‘wildhood’ of raising your teens, you are all welcome.

Monday 23 February 6:30PM – 8:00PM @ Wānaka, Community Hub, 34 McDougall St

3. Our Parent Whānau Coaching Groups create a space for reflection and practical learning alongside others who understand the realities of raising families. These facilitated groups are a mix of face-to-face and online sessions designed for small groups of parents seeking support, strategies and community connection. – Term 1 sessions begin Tue 24 February at the Community Hub.

Connecting as parents reminds us that the pressures we’re navigating aren’t ours to carry in isolation. Three things happen: we normalise the hard parts, we strengthen relationships, and we create opportunities to shape what comes next.

We want our Whānau community to reflect our values and thrive, so come and have your say!  Your voice. Your community. Your chance to influence and help us get it right!

Need more info or have questions – send us a message!

“I’m struggling so much with my daughter leaving for college. I never appreciated how awful this would be, and I don’t feel I can talk to others about it without sounding ridiculous.” Over the years, I’ve had many parents write to me with words just like these. One even confessed, “I hope you don’t think I’m a total fruit loop for reaching out, but life feels empty and I’m a bit lost.”

The truth is, what they’re experiencing isn’t ridiculous at all. It’s grief – empty nest grief – and it hurts.

It’s that time of year in many parts of the world when children leave home, off to new schools, apprenticeships, university, college, or overseas adventures. Maybe it’s their first big departure. Or perhaps you’ve had them back under your roof all summer, only to watch them pack up again. Either way, their absence can leave you feeling utterly bereft.

What Empty Nest Grief Really Is

Are you aware that you’re grieving? In all likelihood, that’s exactly what’s happening. And I want to reassure you, that’s okay. In fact, it’s wholly understandable, and entirely appropriate.

Psychologist Pauline Boss called this ambiguous loss: situations where a loved one is physically absent but psychologically present; I think of it as hidden grief, the kind that isn’t always visible to others, but can be felt so deeply.

When our boys first left, I found myself shutting their bedroom doors. It was easier not to walk past and see the absence staring back at me. Closing those doors wasn’t about denial, it was about coping – one small act that helped me steady myself until the ache softened.

I first wrote about the last term of parenting as we knew it almost a decade ago, when our eldest was about to leave school. Back then, I could only imagine what this stage might feel like. Now, living without our boys under our roof, I see how those early endings and this empty nest grief are part of the same story – reminders that life never stands still, but also proof of the work we’ve put in and how much we care.

Sometimes the hardest thing is the packing – but the silence and emptiness after they’ve gone feels even worse.

Why Letting Them Go Means You’ve Done Your Job

As parents, we have the privilege – one not shared by everyone who longs for it – of raising children and pouring our hearts, minds, and energy into their lives. We do our best. And yet, we often fail to recognise when we’ve succeeded at the very thing we set out to do.

Every year, around now, I get emails and messages from parents who are dreading the moment their children leave the safety of the nests they’ve so lovingly built. I understand – both as a grief researcher and as a mum who’s been there – but the research tells us this is a moment to celebrate too. Their leaving is a hallmark of your success.

The Power of Caring and Daring

You might have heard of secure attachment, John Bowlby’s theory that healthy relationships grow from the ability to form stable, trusting bonds. It’s a reasonably well known idea in parenting circles. But one of his colleagues, psychologist Mary Ainsworth, added a crucial layer to that insight with her research on secure bases. She showed that children need two things at once: a base they can return to and trust in, and the freedom to use that base as a springboard to explore the wider world.

This is where the balance of caring and daring comes in.

When you foster secure attachment, you do both. First, you care: you let your children know you’re here, that you understand them, that you’ll protect, nurture, listen to, and love them. You’ll be the constant in their corner.

Second, you encourage their daring: that inner strength to step out into the world, try new things, take risks, and explore, safe in the knowledge that the nest will always be here for them. They can fly and they can return. They trust in both.

Understanding this has helped me view our empty nest in a whole new light. Now I look around the empty house and can feel good about it, knowing their absence in itself is a mark of success.

Finding New Rituals That Work for You Both

To face the emptiness I’ve found it helps to create new ways to connect while giving your child the independence they crave – and deserve. Personally, I loathe the idea of making them always call on Sunday nights – a hang over from my own childhood, perhaps. Instead we’ve worked out a rhythm that feels right for us – although I’ll admit this has involved trial and error, and evolved over time.

Make a plan now for when you’ll next see each other, even if that means booking flights. I reckon it works best to arrange visits around other commitments, so the time together feels relaxed, not pressured. Better to say you’re going to an exhibition in their city, or have found a restaurant you want to try, than put it all on them. Ask which comms platform they’d like to use to stay in touch. Let them know you don’t want to crowd them, but that you’d worry less if they checked in every week or two.

Over time you’ll discover the rhythms that suit your relationship. In my case, we swap songs we’re listening to on Spotify, and I send endless photos of the dogs doing ridiculous things.

Exhibit A: one of the endless dog photos I send my boys.

It doesn’t need to be deep and meaningful, it just needs to be real and serve the purpose of letting you feel less frayed around the edges, and alone. These small rituals keep us woven into each other’s lives without demanding too much. But like I say, they evolved over time, and to be honest, contact was a rare and precious thing in their early uni years.

Honouring the Invisible Grief

So yes, allow yourself to feel the invisible grief of your children leaving. Name it. Own it. Let yourself sit with the ache. But then, lift your head, take a breath, and acknowledge what you’ve built here. Their flight is proof you’ve given them the caring and the daring they need to flourish in the adult world.

The morning our boys drove off to college, I sat them down, looked at their faces, half men, half the boys I once carried on my hip, and told them how proud I was. And sad too. But that was okay. Because they were ready, and I was, well, ready enough. I made them hug me longer than usual, and they drove away, music playing, trying to mask their unbridled excitement. Ha, I thought, they can’t wait to get away!

The house felt too quiet that afternoon, but under the ache was a quiet satisfaction that they were flying because together we’d built sturdy wings. That invisible grief, once acknowledged, slowly became the quiet pride of having raised children who were ready and willing to fly.

If you’re feeling the ache of an empty nest this week, please know you’re not alone. It’s grief, yes, but it’s also a sign of the love and secure base you’ve given them. You can feel pain and pride simultaneously: both things can be true.

This survey will help agency partners, caregivers, and locals better understand what’s going on for our youth, including learning, belonging, and where support networks are already working well. By taking a strengths-based approach, we primarily focus on what supports young people and their families to thrive here. We’ll still gather what’s needed to guide harm prevention and future wellbeing planning, to keep it aligned with the previous 2023 survey, so we can track change over time.

For this survey to genuinely reflect the lives of whānau in Wānaka | Upper Clutha, our community voice must be heard. That is why we are creating a space where real, in-person conversations take place.

Why conversations matter

As we all turn to the written form in preference to verbal conversation, we seem to text more and talk less; we reduce the modelling and exposure benefits of rich conversations in our everyday lives. We’re losing our conversational skills, which means our children and everyone around us lose their skills too. The kind of rich, back-and-forth kōrero many of us grew up listening to around the table, which stimulated our speech and language development. Everyday conversations are how understanding grows, confidence builds, and stronger connections are formed across our parent and caregiver community.

On Monday 23 February, 9.00–11.30am, we’re hosting a strengths-based workshop at the Wānaka Community Hub (34 McDougall Street), facilitated by Ali McCormick. This will be an interactive hui, where discussion flows both ways and the voices in the room genuinely matter.

Thank you to our major funders: Otago Community Trust, Central Lakes Trust, QLDC, and Hāpai Hapori Community Matters (Lotteries NZ) for supporting this opportunity to gather authentic community voice in 2026.

Get involved or find out more – Register your interest here.

Read the full 2023, ‘Our Youth Voice’ report here. 

Path Wānaka Ara Ki Wānaka in collaboration with Te Kura o Tititea Mount Aspiring College, and Kāhu Youth Trust is proud to host this presentation by researcher Dr Kris Taylor.

Dr Kris Taylor will provide a crash course for parents and those working with youth to understand the worldviews and ideologies young men are exposed to online, how masculinity influencers (e.g. Andrew Tate, Jordan Peterson, Sneako, Fresh and Fit and others in the ‘manosphere’) can affect young people, and key strategies to successfully engage in discussions with youth on this topic. If you’ve ever wondered how to discuss gender norms, sexism, harassment, misogyny, or pornography with a young person without alienating them, this evening is for you.

Kris has worked with young people, educators, and parents across the country to create a shared language and understanding about how young people are navigating the online world. If you parent or work with young people, you need to understand how online influencers and communities are influencing young men and boys with messages around gendered roles and behaviour, and the impact this is having on all young people. Kris will share tried and tested strategies to help you engage with your young person on these topics.

Who Should Attend

Dr Taylor will also be facilitating staff training at Te Kura o Tititea Mount Aspiring College, followed by a half-day workshop for Kāhu Youth Trust youth workers and those in the community working with young people. If you would like to find out more about this training workshop, please contact Anna Sutherland at Kahu Youth Trust here.

Parenting teens in today’s world can feel like a whole new job, and it’s easy to wonder if you’re doing it ‘right’. This supportive group offers a calm, judgement-free space to connect with other parents and caregivers, share experiences, and pick up practical tools you can use straight away at home. Led by professional parent coach Ali McCormick (20+ years’ experience), sessions focus on strengthening whānau relationships, setting healthy boundaries, managing big emotions (yours and theirs), and supporting young people to make safer, more independent choices.

At Path Wānaka | Ara ki Wānaka, we believe that parents and caregivers deserve a strong support network. That’s why we are continuing a FREE Group Coaching programme for Parents during term time—designed to be a welcoming, community-driven space to help you and your whānau thrive!

What parents are saying about Parent Whānau Coaching with Ali

“I love how the sessions allow parents to guide the content of the workshop”.  

“I can be more confident in my parenting decisions and feel like I am doing better than I

thought I was”.

Term 3, 2026:  Group Coaching 

4x 90 minute sessions in Term 3, that are FREE for parents, with flexible scheduling to suit the individual groups. Private one-on-one sessions with Ali are also available (fees apply).

Groups will be a mix of FREE face-to-face and online coaching sessions each term designed to educate and empower parents seeking support, strategies, and community connection.

Register for Term 3, 2026: [here]

What is it?

In term time, we bring together a small group of parents in a safe, supportive, and confidential space to explore solutions for modern parenting challenges. Led by Ali McCormick – Executive Coach | Leadership Educator, specialising in positive psychology, communication, and teaching.  These sessions are free for whānau, and focus on creating actionable steps to strengthen family relationships and improve home life.

Why Come Along?

  Feeling unprepared and overwhelmed by your teen’s challenges and change? You’re not alone!

  Need a safe space? Share experiences, get support, and gain confidence.

  Looking for connection? Meet parents navigating the same parenting struggles and uncertainties.

  Want practical tools? Learn strategies to support your teen’s growth and independence.

If any of these resonate with you, PATH Wānaka’s Whānau Support Group (Group Coaching for Caregivers) is here to help

What You Can Expect

A mix of FREE face-to-face and online coaching sessions each term designed to educate and empower parents seeking support, strategies, and community connection.

Confident Parenting in a Supportive Space
Come along & move forward with confidence in a safe, confidential, and non-judgmental group where parents can learn, share, and grow together.

Future-Focused & Collaborative
This group isn’t about past struggles—it’s about practical solutions, tailored discussions, and shared genuine support from fellow parents.

Get support in Navigating Modern Parenting
Address challenges unique to 2026, from social media to peer influence.
Step into your role as the most influential figure in your child’s life.
Set boundaries, manage emotions, and have meaningful conversations.

Exploring solutions that work for you and your family
Gaining confidence in your parenting abilities
Collaborating with a coach and other parents
Strengthening your influence as a parent / caregiver
Learning how to step back, set boundaries, and communicate effectively

Whānau Support Group 2026

Learn about Ali’s experience and her mission for this group.
Understand how coaching works—what it is (and what it isn’t).
Discover why group coaching is an effective support structure for parents.
Gain insight into how to get the most out of these sessions.
Share your thoughts and help us shape the programme to suit your needs.

Meet Your Coach:  Ali McCormick 

Ali is a qualified speech-language therapist, teacher, positive psychology practitioner, and leadership coach. Ali has over 30 years, experience in supporting parents and young people’s every-day and complex needs. She brings a wealth of expertise, delivering client-centred coaching that focuses on real-world application.

Watch: A Zoom recording of an introduction to Group Coaching by Ali [HERE]

One-to-One Power Coaching with Ali – (dates to be advised)

Private sessions / individual bookings $65.00 Incl GST per 1/2 hour available during the following times at the Community Hub:

To book your private session with Ali – contact Ali directly.

What parents are saying about One-to-one Power Coaching for Parents with Ali McCormick

“Attending the coaching with Ali has been such an enjoyable experience.
Ali breaks down our parenting issues in a way we understand and gives us solutions thatare easy to implement!”.

Parenting the Teen Years | The Wānaka App | A Caregivers Blog!

Read:   ‘Why Coaching, Not Just Courses Is What Parents Really Need’ – Real Talk with Ali  [HERE]

Read:   ‘Recharging Your Parental Batteries’  [HERE]. 

Ali shares with us her blog on ‘Recharging Your Parental Batteries’ & the importance in finding the energy for the teen years.

Got a great idea for an event? Let us know!

We’re here to help bring the right people and experts to our community in support of our youth and their families.  If you have an idea for a great topic or speaker, contact us at Path Wānaka | Ara ki Wānaka.  We’ve got you!

Stay in the loop!

Get the latest blog posts, updates and news from Path Wānaka straight to your inbox. Sign up to our newsletter here.

Hosting teens in Wānaka over New Year is a mix of magic and mayhem. Following on from last week’s blog, here’s a practical framework sharing one Wānaka family’s lived experience of hosting teens over the New Year period.

Communication

Start talking early on. This family contacted every parent, agreed to a consensus and the same rules applied to every teen in their care, set up group chats, and no-questions-asked pick-up from anywhere, at any hour. Clear plans meant fewer 1:00 AM surprises and far less guesswork.

Courage

Set boundaries early and stick to them. Non-negotiables included parent consents, no alcohol brought from home, curfews and car keys handed in on arrival. The difficult kōrero always came before the difficult nights. They also had other parents to stay – extra eyes, shared responsibility, and someone else to laugh with when the dishes started piling up.  And if hosting a party, have plenty of parents around to help. 

Connection

Being active and fresh air kept everyone grounded. Tired teens tend to be kinder teens. Lots of daytime activities, eating together morning and night before going out, and everyone pitched in with chores. The staples that never ran out: food and being active.

Consent

Two layers mattered.

People: Respecting neighbours, police, parents, and friends was expected. Consent was ongoing and could be withdrawn anytime.

Alcohol: Only with explicit parent approval – served with food, supervised, and with a ride home sorted. Otherwise, it was soft drink and spaghetti. They measured, monitored, and stopped at the first wobble.

Contribute

Everyone played their part: pitching tents, bringing their own bedding, pooling New World or Subway vouchers, sharing BBQ duties, rotating showers, and checking in on their mates. The adults stayed visible, sober, and solution focused. If anything tipped up, they answered every call with no judgement, just action. End-of-night “chair chats” with toasties, water, coffee, and story telling. 

Mistakes are always OK! They made mistakes, like every family does. The police returned a wanderer once; sick teens needed support other times. They owned it, phoned parents when necessary, and kept their promise:  whatever it takes, we’ll get your child home safe.

Bottom line: Be the host, not the doormat!  Everyone contributes (because you’re not running a free-range teen resort). Courage, clarity, connection, consent, and contribution. Set the rules before the first chilly bin opens, stay present, and keep expectations consistent. If you can still have good honest chat, laugh, share great food, and say “no” without flinching on the 1st January, you’ve survived a New Year ‘hosting teens’ in Wānaka: all home safe, a tidy-ish house, and stories you can all actually tell in the daylight (without a lawyer, a medic, or a massive apology text).

This post follows on from last week’s blog, Hosting Teens at New Year: What One Wānaka Family Learned, which shares a lived experience of parenting through the New Year period in Wānaka. You can read it here.

If you’ve ever had teens staying in Wānaka over New Year, you’ll know it’s a world of its own. Between the crowds, the late nights, and the energy that comes with the season, it can feel both exciting and daunting. One local family hosted groups of boys from Years 11–13 for seven summers. Their story offers a reassuring, practical look at what helped them get through it.

Their biggest lesson? Start talking early. Before the boys even arrived, they contacted every parent, most of whom they’d never met, to agree on expectations around alcohol, curfews, and how the group would be supervised. It felt awkward, but it set a clear foundation. Everyone knew the rules, and everyone followed the same ones.

They also learned not to do it alone. Having another couple or two extra parents staying made all the difference. It spread the load and meant boundaries didn’t fall to one tired adult at midnight.

There were a few non-negotiables. No alcohol brought from home. Any drinks were bought by the hosts as part of the general shop (paid for by the teens, of course). Drinking only happened alongside food, usually at dinner, after a full day outdoors. Days were structured on purpose, walking up Mt Iron, swimming, bridge-jumping, backyard cricket, tennis, cards, anything to burn energy and keep spirits high.

The boys stayed in tents, cooked breakfast on the BBQ, and were responsible for dishes, bathrooms, and quick showers. Everyone ate together morning and night. Curfew meant they all met at the skatepark at 1am, then came home together. The hosts always offered pick-ups, even though they lived close by. It was never worth the risk of letting exhausted teens wander home.

There were missteps. Stray kids turned up, police knocked on the door, and a few very sick teenagers needed rescuing. But the boys always talked, even when they’d had a rough night. Those late-night debriefs, food, water, coffee, and the “big chair chat” where they shared the evening gossip with the adults became their favourite part.

Their message to other parents? Be clear, be involved, and be willing to work with the other adults in your teen’s world. It’s not about perfection. It’s about getting everyone home safe.

A simple checklist for parents planning to host teens at New Year in Wānaka

Before they arrive

• Talk with the other parents early — agree on boundaries, alcohol expectations, and supervision.
• Make sure everyone understands the same rules apply to every teen.
• Confirm communication plans with both parents if families are separated
• Decide who is responsible for transport, shopping, and check-ins. 

While they’re staying

• Share the load — have another couple or two adults staying as support.
• Set a rule of no alcohol from home; all drinks bought together and accompanied by food.
• Keep days structured: exercise, swimming, walks, sport, lake time, and activities that burn energy.
• Encourage teens to sort their own gear: tent set-up, bedding, and their share of chores.
• Eat together morning and night; make dishes, bathrooms, and quick showers part of the routine.
• Set a clear curfew and meet-up point (e.g., skatepark at 1am).
• Offer pick-ups and drop-offs, no matter the distance, it’s safer and teens won’t always judge when they’re too tired. 

When things go wrong

• Expect mistakes — stay calm, stay available.
• Look out for strays or unwell kids and be prepared to help.
• If police become involved, treat them as partners in keeping everyone safe. 

Before they leave

• Have a quick conversation about the plan for the night ahead.
• Make sure no one drives after a big New Year’s Eve; late nights and long trips don’t mix.

You’ll find practical tips, conversation starters, and planning tools on the Safe Summer Wānaka campaign page.

Explore the resources here. 

Support them to have a brilliant time, and a safe one, and to be a legend, not a liability.

I stayed with family friends who treated me incredibly well. I knew how much time and effort went into hosting us, so being polite and pulling my weight felt non-negotiable. Helping with dinner, tidying up, and prepping the boat were small things, but they mattered if you wanted to be welcome again.

Of course, being respectful in the house doesn’t always translate to perfect decisions out of it. Having the independence to roam around town with mates was thrilling, especially because I’d grown up in a strict home where parties and alcohol weren’t really part of life. Wānaka felt like a place where we could test a few boundaries.

That freedom came with some hard lessons. None of us really understood drinking or the rules around the liquor ban. We wandered the streets with our cans, thinking we were being responsible by binning them properly. It didn’t matter. The police stopped us, and as an intoxicated teen, I panicked. I made up almost every detail about myself, convinced it would keep me out of trouble. It didn’t. Officers ended up driving me back to my homestay.

Looking back, I realise I completely misread their intentions. They weren’t out to catch us; they were trying to keep us safe. Instead of enjoying the night I’d been hyping up for months, I was back on the couch listening to the fireworks, all thanks to a hip flask of whiskey I’d snuck out.

The thing that saved me was my friends. They gave the police the right details and made sure I got home safely. Their parents were incredibly kind too. Still, the regret hit hard the next morning.

Path Wānaka often says, “Add to the party, don’t shut it down.” It’s simple, but it’s true. A bit of honesty, knowing your limits, staying in touch with the people you’re staying with, and looking out for your mates can make all the difference. No one wants to be the one who misses the countdown because the night tipped too far.

A quick word for parents

Stories like this are a good reminder that even the most level-headed teens can get caught out. A simple kōrero before they leave about drinking, limits, checking in, and sticking with their mates can make a real difference to how their night unfolds.

If your teen is heading to Wānaka this summer, take a moment to plan together. Agree on how they’ll stay in touch, what they’ll do if things get messy, and who they can call if they need help.

You’ll find practical tips, conversation starters, and planning tools on the Safe Summer Wānaka campaign page.

Explore the resources here.

Support them to have a brilliant time and a safe one, and to be a legend, not a liability.

At some point I noticed that talking to kids and young people about death and grief bears distinct similarities to talking to them about sex. Not what you want to do – but another vital part of parenting – and the same rules seem to apply. In essence, be clear, keep it simple, pitch your content and detail to suit their age and development, use plain language (avoid jargon or metaphors) and be guided by their questions. I know it’s tough, but they need us to be honest.

If we want children to grow up emotionally literate, able to face life’s losses with psychological flexibility, courage, compassion and understanding, we need to bring them into the conversations AND model what healthy grieving looks and sounds like. Not shut it away like some Victorian melodrama.

“Be clear, keep it simple, pitch your content and detail to suit their age and development, use plain language (avoid jargon or metaphors) and be guided by their questions.”

Dr Lucy Hone

Children don’t need perfect words: just the truth, told with kindness.

Avoid vague language. Euphemisms like “gone to sleep”, “in a better place”, or “passed away” can frighten or confuse them. Children take things literally and may start to fear bedtime or worry that others who “go away” won’t come back.

Lauren Zonfrillo has spoken beautifully about this, describing the moment she told her two and five year old children that their father, Jock, had died in an episode of The Imperfects podcast. Instead of choosing words she thought might confuse them, she told them plainly:

“I’ve got some really sad news. Papa has died and he’s not coming back.”

She also shares some of their raw and real questions – When did it happen? Where is he now? Do you think he’s cold? Won’t he come back, even for a cuddle? To which she repeated, ‘“No because Papa’s dead, so he can never come back”.

When Abi died, one of her 10 year old friends asked me, “Is that the only dress she can wear from now on?” Such an innocent question which reminded me how curious, literal and honest children are in the face of loss; they seem to know how to talk about death instinctively, it’s just us adults that make a meal of it.

My husband, whose father died suddenly when he was 11, can still recall the odd behaviour from the adults in his life.  “Why was everyone acting so strangely? I craved some normality in the face of the shock of my Dad dying. I would have liked to have been spoken to in their normal kind way, explaining how, yes, something terrible had happened, they like me were shocked and very sad, and yes we would all try and help each other through this the best we could.” Instead he remembers well intended, awkward, disarming kindness, frequent hushed conversations and sudden silences when he entered a room.

You Don’t Need to Have All the Answers

If you’re unsure what to say, start small. Offer one clear sentence, then pause and let them lead with their questions. Children process loss in short bursts: they’ll circle back when they’re ready for more – particularly if you’ve demonstrated to them that you are willing to engage them in honest, direct comms. You don’t have to have all the perfect answers – sometimes there are no answers – just show them they can trust you to tell the truth.

I was struck by Lauren’s ability to meet her children’s questions with such direct honesty instead of avoidance or false comfort. That kind of straight-talking bravery takes enormous guts, but is kinder than skirting round it for everyone in the long run.

We can’t protect children from loss, but we can protect them from confusion and fear. Honest conversations – however imperfect, however much we stumble, cry and falter – are better than the alternative. They’ll help them feel safe, included, seen, heard and loved.

If you’d like more reflections like this, join me for Finding Your Way Weekly – my free newsletter to help you navigate life’s changes and challenges as best we can.

Dr Lucy Hone

About Dr Lucy Hone

Regarded as a global thought leader in the field of resilience psychology, tragedy tested everything Dr Lucy thought she knew in deeply personal circumstances when her daughter and friends were killed in a tragic accident. Adjunct senior fellow at the University of Canterbury, Lucy is an internationally sought-after professional speaker, best-selling author, and award-winning academic. Covid-19 saw her TED talk go viral making it the most watched talk by a New Zealander, and it was recently ranked in the top 30 must-watch TED talks of all time by TEDx. With clients ranging from Apple and Amazon, to Hospice and the UN, she helps individuals, teams and communities find their way through hardship and loss. Her work is regularly featured in global media, including the Guardian, the Hidden Brain, the Washington Post, and the BBC, the Sydney Morning Herald, CBS  and ABC. Author of best-seller, Resilient Grieving: how to find your way through devastating loss, and her new book, How Will I Ever Get Through This? focused on the hidden grief associated with ‘living losses’ (available for pre-order now).

For more evidence-based tools to help heal from hardship, grief and loss follow Dr Lucy on social media @drlucyhone or read her blog here.

Check out other blog posts by Dr Lucy Hone:

• The Last Term of Parenting as We Knew It here