Part 7 of 19 in How to Coach Your Child: A Handbook for Indian Parents← Part 6Part 8 →
I was sitting at my desk yesterday, gazing out the window, when I was reminded of a conversation I had with a parent a few weeks ago. They were distraught, caught in the familiar dance of harshness followed by guilt. This is a rhythm many of us know too well, whether as parents, investors, or even doctors. It’s the pendulum swing from demanding too much to apologizing too often, an emotional seesaw I see not just in parenting but in many facets of life.
In the clinic, I’ve seen patients grapple with similar emotions — the harsh self-critique that follows a failed IVF cycle, and the guilt of perhaps not doing enough. As an angel investor, I’ve seen founders berate themselves for a pitch gone awry, only to then second-guess every decision in a bout of guilt-driven introspection. It’s a cycle that does no one any favors and often leads to a paralysis of sorts.
The real challenge is to find a balance, a middle ground that acknowledges the need for standards without slipping into harsh judgments. Let’s take a closer look at how this dynamic plays out and how we might begin to untangle it.
The Unhealthy Rhythm
Consider the case of Vikram, a Class 5 student in Bengaluru. His story is a familiar one. After hiding his spelling notebook due to a poor dictation, his father calls him a liar and sends him out of the room. The guilt follows swiftly that night, as the father sits by Vikram’s bed, offering him the iPad as a consolation. Vikram, caught between the two faces of his father, learns early to navigate this emotional rollercoaster — one that many of us inadvertently set in motion.
The problem here is not the setting of boundaries. Boundaries are essential, both in parenting and in professional relationships. The issue lies in how these boundaries are enforced and then undermined. In Vikram’s case, the father’s harshness is followed by an immediate attempt to repair the damage through guilt-induced concessions. The result? A child who learns that boundaries are malleable and contingent on the parent’s emotional state.
The Middle Path
The key to breaking this cycle lies in finding a middle sentence, a steady refrain that can anchor both parent and child. It’s about separating the emotion from the rule. “You hid the notebook because the dictation felt awful. Hiding is not allowed. The mark is what it is. Tomorrow you will show me the notebook before dinner. The iPad is a different subject and it is not an apology.”
This approach is no less applicable in investing or medicine. When a founder misses a milestone, it’s important to address the issue head-on without letting emotions cloud judgment. “The deadline was missed. Let’s identify the blockers and set a new timeline.” The same applies to patients navigating their fertility journey. “The cycle didn’t succeed. Let’s review what we can adjust for next time.”
Guilt is Not Love
In my experience, guilt is often mistaken for care. Indian parents, in particular, are frequently told that feeling guilty means they care deeply. Yet, guilt can be a deceptive emotion, often confusing a child’s temporary disappointment with actual harm. Denying a child a toy results in disappointment, a clean pain that doesn’t require a compensatory gift. The same principle applies to founders who have to be told that not every setback requires an overhaul of strategy.
Consider the notion that an investor who feels guilty about a tough conversation might offer more favorable terms as a salve. This is not a display of care but a surrender to guilt, which often leads to poor decision-making. A child, just like a founder, learns quickly that persistence in the face of guilt will eventually lead to concessions.
Harshness Disguised as Standards
Harshness often masquerades as high standards. It’s easy to slip into sweeping statements like “You never meet deadlines” or “You always miss targets.” These are not standards; they are verdicts. A founder or child can meet a standard — complete this form by Friday, in your handwriting — but no one can meet a verdict that paints their entire character with a broad brush.
In medicine, I remind my patients that the goal is progress, not perfection. The same applies to startups — incremental growth and learning from failures are more sustainable than chasing an unattainable ideal. Harshness is unproductive; it stifles innovation and growth, whether in a child or a startup.
The Way Out: Patterns Over Promises
Children trust patterns, not speeches. The same is true for founders and patients. It’s about maintaining consistency in expectations and responses. “I shouted. I am sorry I shouted.” Then stop. Do not add a concession to prove the sincerity of the apology. The apology is real if the next shout is shorter and the limit remains unchanged. This is a lesson I emphasize to founders — consistency builds trust far more effectively than grand gestures or apologies.
In the realm of investing, I’ve found that the best relationships with founders are built on consistent, transparent communication. It’s not about promising the world but about delivering what was agreed, even when it’s uncomfortable.
A Small Audit
I often suggest to both parents and founders a small exercise in self-awareness. For three days, keep a simple audit. On one side, note the times you attacked character. On the other, note when you undid a limit to ease your own guilt. This audit is not to be shared; it’s a tool for personal growth. Most of those who try this find that these two columns feed each other. The harsher the afternoon, the more costly the night.
In the world of startups, this exercise can be adapted to track decisions made from a place of guilt rather than strategy. It’s a revealing practice that often highlights the interplay between harsh self-judgment and guilt-driven concessions.
Closing Thoughts
The swing between harshness and guilt is not unique to parenting. It’s a rhythm I’ve seen play out in boardrooms, clinics, and classrooms. The challenge is to find that middle sentence, the consistent pattern that children, patients, and founders can rely on. It’s a journey of self-awareness and discipline, but one that pays dividends in trust, growth, and genuine connection.
Let’s strive to be coaches, not just critics. In doing so, we give those we guide — whether children, founders, or patients — the tools to navigate their paths with confidence. And perhaps, in the process, we find a bit of peace ourselves.