Obedience, Reconsidered
Why obedience, when rooted in love, may not be what we fear
Disclaimer: It took me two months to finalise this piece as it’s not an easy topic to put out into the world with my name on it.
I have people in my life that I adore who completely disagree with me, and as someone who doesn’t share much of my ideas with people in my real life, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to open that door.
At first, this was something I needed to work through for myself (and I confess I’ve deleted a fairly large section for now… maybe a Part II will come later).
But I believe so deeply in what I’ve written that I decided it was worth sharing. If it helps even a few parents sit with this idea and make up their own minds, then it’s done its job.
I hope you enjoy this piece, and I really look forward to reading your thoughts and comments.
We live inside laws long before we ever learn the word obedience.
We stop at red lights because someone wiser than us designed a system meant to protect human life; we buckle our children into car seats they did not choose; we follow medical instructions we do not fully understand; we accept that some decisions are not ours to make because the cost of getting them wrong is simply too high.
And yet, when the conversation turns to parenting, obedience has become one of the most suspicious words in the room.
The concern is understandable. We worry that teaching children to obey means teaching them not to think, not to question, not to develop their own judgment.
We fear we might raise compliant adults instead of discerning ones.
But I think this fear comes from confusing obedience with blind submission, and those two are not the same thing.
When we talk about obedience between parents and children, we are talking about a relationship that is, by nature, unequal.
Not unequal in dignity or worth, but unequal in responsibility, knowledge, and foresight.
Parents simply see more of the road ahead. We understand consequences children cannot yet imagine. We carry the weight of decision-making so they don’t have to.
And that is kindness.
Children do not experience comfort when they are asked to constantly decide what is best for themselves.
Developmental psychology shows that too much choice, too early, often creates anxiety rather than confidence.
Clear boundaries and trusted authority give children something essential for their development: relief from responsibility.
Studies consistently show that children feel safer and more regulated when caregivers are predictable, firm, and emotionally present.
This doesn’t mean harsh or authoritarian, but dependable.
Obedience, in this sense, is offering them a stable structure while their inner world is still forming.
A child who obeys a loving parent is not surrendering their mind; they are borrowing someone else’s wisdom until their own is ready.
The idea that obedience teaches blindness assumes authority is arbitrary or self-serving.
But good parental authority isn’t “because I said so”; it’s “I see something you can’t yet, and I won’t leave you alone with this decision.”
That kind of obedience does not crush curiosity. It actually creates the safety required for curiosity to grow.
A comment that I loved and wanted to respond to
I really appreciate Elsa Anderson’s honesty here, especially the tension you name between individual autonomy and communal order.
That wrestling feels deeply human, and very modern.
Where I gently land differently is in separating obedience as a developmental need from obedience as submission to power.
Parenting is not a system; it’s a relationship.
And because it’s a relationship between someone still forming and someone already formed, it can’t be fully reciprocal in the same way adult relationships are.
Wanting children to question unjust power later in life doesn’t require removing obedience early in life. In many cases, it’s the opposite.
Children who grow up with loving, trustworthy authority often develop a clearer sense of what good authority feels like, which can make unjust authority easier to recognise and resist.
Final thought
Obedience, when rooted in love, carries the weight of responsibility on behalf of children until they are ready to carry it themselves.
It is NOT the opposite of autonomy but the soil from which autonomy grows.
And maybe the real question isn’t whether children should obey, but whether the adults asking for obedience are worthy of the trust it requires.
I’d really love to hear your thoughts! This feels like a conversation worth having together.
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PPS: once a month, paid subscribers will receive a special letter, a little deeper and more personal than my public posts.
They’ll be reflections I don’t want to publish widely, because they’re too personal, too sacred, or still taking shape.
This will be in addition to all the paid content I already share: the essays, reflections, and creative pieces that you’ve been receiving as part of your subscription.
My free posts will always remain (and I’m so grateful you read them).
But this new layer is for those who wish to walk a little closer, to share the moments I usually keep in my notebook.I hope you’ll join me in this next part of the journey ♥️
Photo by Polesie



Ana, I really respect the care you took with this. You can feel how much you wrestled with it before pressing publish.
I think the distinction you make between obedience and blind submission is such an important one. The idea that children are “borrowing wisdom” until their own is ready — that’s a powerful reframe. It doesn’t feel like control; it feels like stewardship.
And your final question stays with me: are the adults asking for obedience worthy of the trust it requires? That’s the heart of it.
Thank you for opening a conversation that so many people quietly hold opinions about but rarely say out loud 🤍
Great post Ana - I completely agree. Especially that part about trust beginning with us first. ❤️