The other day, my son was at parkour practice when he hurt his foot. It wasn’t anything broken, but it clearly hurt. As he limped over to me, holding back tears, he looked up and said something that hit me harder than the fall had hit him.

“I’m not okay, but I’m putting on a brave face.”

I froze for a second. I’ve never told him to do that. I’ve never asked him to hide his feelings. In fact, I’ve worked hard to create a space where it’s safe to cry, safe to feel, safe to be not okay. And yet, here was my child—clearly in pain—believing he needed to look strong instead of be real.

That moment stuck with me.

Because even if we don’t say it directly, the world teaches our kids that being brave means hiding their hurt. That strength means silence. That tears are weakness. And whether they learn it at school, on the playground, in media, or by watching the grown-ups around them, the message sinks in.

When we encourage our kids to "put on a brave face," even unintentionally, we may be teaching them that:

• Emotions should be hidden instead of felt and expressed.

• Looking okay is more important than being okay.

• They are responsible for other people’s comfort, especially if their feelings make someone else uncomfortable.

• Bravery means pretending, rather than courageously facing and naming what’s real.

But here’s the truth:
Bravery isn’t about hiding pain—it’s about honoring it.
It’s about saying, “I’m not okay” and letting someone help. It’s about limping over and letting yourself be seen, even when you wish you could just power through.

I looked at my son and said, “Thank you for telling me how you really feel. You don’t have to be brave for me. You just have to be honest.”

We sat for a moment while he caught his breath and I held space for both his physical and emotional hurt. And as we drove home, I realized that while I may not have told him to wear a brave face, I now had the opportunity to teach him something better:

That real strength is found in authenticity. That healing starts when we stop pretending. And that his feelings—every single one of them—are welcome here.

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