When I became a parent, I was struck by the overwhelming, humbling responsibility of shaping my children’s lives. There was no manual—just an endless stream of books, advice, and expectations, all wrapped in an increasing sense of pressure to get it right.
Parenting books were everywhere, and my generation devoured them. But research now shows that all this information hasn’t made us better parents—it’s only made us more anxious. And in many cases, we’ve passed that anxiety on to our kids. I saw families that followed every best practice, only for their kids to grow into adults I wouldn’t necessarily call whole or fulfilled. I saw kids raised in difficult situations who somehow emerged strong and secure. I saw loving, devoted parents whose children knew they were loved—and yet still struggled with a deep, quiet lack of self-worth.
The more I observed, the more I saw a pattern among the most broken adults. Almost every struggle could be traced back to one of two wounds:
They didn’t feel truly loved.
They didn’t believe they were inherently lovable.
It’s one thing to be told you’re loved. It’s another thing entirely to believe you are worthy of that love, without condition. A person who knows they are loved can still spend their life trying to earn it. A person who knows they are lovable doesn’t have to prove themselves. They walk with a deep, unshakable sense of worth.
And I saw this play out in faith as well. So many people within religion seemed to be stuck at a foundational level, trying to fill the void of not feeling loved and/or lovable—never able to move into the richness and depth of faith because they were still searching for security in their own worth. When love isn’t fully embraced at the core of our identity, even something as profound as faith can become a means of striving rather than a source of rest.
When I saw this in the world around me, I made a decision: if I could do nothing else as a parent, I would make sure my kids knew—without a doubt—that they were both loved and lovable.
So I made it my top priority.
You Are Loved. You Are Lovable.
Every night at bedtime, I told my kids:
"You are loved. And you are lovable."
Eventually, I started waiting for them to finish the sentence:
"You are loved… and you are…?"
They’d roll their eyes and smile before saying it back: “Lovable.”
I didn’t let it go. For years, I was consistent. I wanted this truth to settle deep into their bones, so that one day, when life challenged them, they wouldn’t just hope they were worthy of love—they would know it.
And as my kids grew into teenagers, I realized something else—if being loved and lovable is the foundation, what comes next? How do we help our kids move from identity into action, all while still being present and grounded in each moment?
You Are. You Can. Be.
I’m drawn to symmetry—the way the universe expands from a central place and, in ways beyond our understanding, finds its way back to unity. God is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, with everything in between held together in a sacred rhythm. This sense of balance and continuity shaped how I approached this framework.
As I thought about what I wanted to pass down to my kids, I knew it had to be something both foundational and expansive—a basic truth that could guide them, yet open enough to allow them to grow into who they were uniquely created to be. That’s how I arrived at these three simple phrases, framed within each statement as the beginning and end of the idea:
You Are → Identity ← You Are
You Can → Potential ← You Can
Be → Presence ← Be
Each stands on its own, yet none is complete without the others. To know you are loved and lovable is to have a foundation of identity. To embrace your potential is to step outward, to grow. And to simply be is to return to the present, to communion with yourself, with others, and with God.
This rhythm moves in both directions—who you are informs what you can do, what you can do shapes who you are, and learning to be present reinforces your sense of self while opening space for growth. Each idea strengthens the others, creating a resilient, unshakable core that allows a child to navigate life with confidence, purpose, and peace.
This is the identity poem I created and framed for my kids:
What This Means for Parents
As parents, we are bombarded with expectations. We are told to prepare our kids for success, to keep them safe, to teach them values, to make sure they don’t stray too far from the right path. But what if, instead of trying to control the outcomes of their lives, we focused on a single foundation?
What if, above all else, our job was to make sure our kids knew they were loved—and believed they were lovable?
What if we let go of the idea that we have to shape them into a specific version of success, and instead focused on helping them build their own identity, step into their unique potential, and embrace the present?
The more I leaned into this, the more it freed me from the fear of parenting “wrong.” I wasn’t trying to be a perfect parent. I wasn’t trying to prevent every mistake. I simply trusted that if my kids carried these truths, they would have everything they needed to build a meaningful, whole, and resilient life.
Of course, parenting is complex, and every child, every family, and every situation is different. This isn’t a guidebook with all the answers—it’s simply a framework, a way to focus on what matters most. The details, the day-to-day, the unique challenges? Those are shaped within community, through wisdom, experience, and love. But if we can build on this foundation, I believe it gives our kids something solid to stand on as they grow.
And so I offer this to you:
Tell your kids they are loved.
Help them believe they are lovable.
Encourage them to see what they can become.
And remind them that life isn’t just about striving—it’s also about simply being.
If we get those things right, I believe we will have fulfilled our greatest responsibility as parents: to raise grounded, secure and emotionally healthy human beings who can navigate a complicated world and step confidently into their own unique purpose and potential.
(P.S. If you'd like a PDF of the poem, let me know—I’d be happy to share!)
🔍 Dive Deeper: The Symbolism Behind These Words
(If these ideas resonate with you and you want to explore the deeper intentionality behind them, keep reading. Otherwise, I hope these core truths give you something to reflect on.)
The Visual Symbolism
The visual elements in this piece aren’t just decorative; they reinforce the message:
Past (Upper Left Lines) → The past informs us, but it does not define us. We learn from it, carry its lessons, and reconcile its wounds. But we are not bound by it.
Present (Vertical Lines on Each Side) → The now is where identity is formed. This is where peace, contentment, and meaning reside. The temptation in parenting is to fixate on the future—on who our kids will become—while missing the moments that make up their becoming. But who they are, right now, is already enough.
Future (Lower Right Lines) → The future is an invitation. Our kids will grow, evolve, and step into possibilities we can’t yet see. But we do them no favors when we tie their worth to what they will accomplish. Instead, we guide them toward a future where growth is a response to love, not a requirement to earn it.
The Words Themselves
Each phrase in this framework carries meaning beyond its simplicity. Here’s how I see it:
You Are Loved—and Lovable (Identity)
This is the foundation. To know they are loved is one thing; to believe they are lovable is another.
Love is not earned. It is not based on performance, behavior, or approval. It simply is.
A child can grow up feeling loved by their parents yet still doubt their own worth. Why? Because love, if not deeply internalized, can be mistaken for something that must be maintained rather than something intrinsic to their being.
Many adults spend their lives searching for love, not realizing the real wound is the lack of self-acceptance—the belief that they must prove they are worthy of it.
We model this for our children not just through our words, but through how we see ourselves. Do we live as though we are loved? Do we accept our own shortcomings with grace?
❖ Reflection: Ask yourself—Do I communicate love as a truth or as a transaction? Do I allow my children to experience my love even in their imperfection?
You Can Go Further and Do More Than You Think You Can (Potential)
This isn’t about pressure or productivity; it’s about possibility.
The world conditions us to measure potential in terms of achievement, but real potential is far deeper.
To “Go further” is not just to accomplish, but to expand—in understanding, in resilience, in love.
“Do more” is intentionally open-ended to capture the idea of limitless possibilities. It’s not just about success; it’s about becoming. More forgiving, more courageous, more willing to fail and try again.
Our minds set limits before reality does. Self-doubt is learned, and so is self-belief.
This is not about pushing our kids toward success—it’s about helping them see that they are not bound by fear or limitation.
❖ Reflection: Where do I see limits in my own life? How might my child be absorbing those same perceived boundaries?
Be Who You Are and Who You Can Be (Presence)
This is where identity and potential come together.
So much of life is spent oscillating between past regrets and future worries. But being—fully present, fully alive in the moment—is where peace is found.
Many people chase who they “should” be rather than fully embodying who they already are. Our kids need to know that who they are today is already whole, even as they continue to grow.
This phrase holds a sacred tension—accepting who you are while also stepping into who you are becoming.
This is the piece that allows our kids to hold their identity and their potential without feeling like they have to choose one over the other.
❖ Reflection: How do I model presence in my own life? Do I let my child rest in being or do I unintentionally communicate that they must always be doing?
Bringing It All Together
Each of these ideas builds upon the others, creating a foundation that helps our children grow into secure, confident, and whole individuals.
You Are (Identity): A deep understanding of self-worth—knowing that who you are is already enough, already whole, and does not need to be earned.
You Can (Potential): A belief in possibility—stepping forward, not out of fear or pressure, but from a place of love, curiosity, and inner strength.
Be (Presence): The ability to rest in the moment—learning to live fully in who you are now, without the constant pressure to strive, prove, or achieve more.
When these three ideas work together, they create a resilient, unshakable core—one that I believe allows a child to face challenges, embrace growth, and live with both confidence and peace.
At the heart of it all is this simple, unwavering truth: we are already held in love. That is enough. That has always been enough.
A Final Reflection for Parents
If you take nothing else from this, I hope you take this:
You don’t have to get everything right. Your kids don’t need perfect parents. They need parents who love them—and parents who show them how to love themselves.
That’s enough.
And if you can build that foundation, I believe they’ll have everything they need to go further than you could ever imagine.