Why We Criticize the People We Love

It’s a paradox. We often criticize the people we love and admire most. Not because we dislike them, but because we fear the world will.

We see someone brilliant, full of potential. But they don’t dress the part. Or speak the way the room expects. Or cut their hair the way we think will win approval.

And suddenly we’re anxious for them.

Because in our story, if we had done that, we would have failed.

We learned how to survive by reading the rules, following the code, playing the game.

So we try to pass those rules on.

“Blend in. Fit the mold. Don’t stand out too much.”

It comes from care. But it sounds like criticism.

And the cost is quiet but real: every “helpful” correction takes away confidence points.

Instead of investing energy in being themselves, they spend it defending against us.

Think of Dumbo. Everyone told him his ears were a liability. Too big. Too ridiculous. Too unacceptable. He believed them until one day those same ears carried him into the sky.

That’s the risk of overprotecting people with our fear. We mistake difference for danger.

We try to shape them into something the world will accept instead of cheering them into what only they can be.

Of course, feedback matters. Sometimes it saves us. But why do we assume we know what the future will reward? The world changes. Rules shift. What looks like a flaw today may be tomorrow’s genius.

So why not cheer them on? Why not celebrate them for being exactly who they are?

Why not trust that their path messy, bold, unedited might be the one that carries them exactly where they need to go?

Because love isn’t about trimming people to fit the norm. It’s about saying: I see you. I believe in you. Fly anyway.