Lil Koy sat on the floor with a stubborn face, arms swinging wildly as he made rude, nasty gestures without thinking. His mouth moved faster than his mind, copying behaviors he didn’t fully understand. To him, it felt funny, powerful, a way to get attention when emotions bubbled too high.
Mom noticed immediately. She didn’t shout. She didn’t rush. Instead, she knelt down so her eyes met his. That alone made Koy pause. Her calm felt heavier than anger.
She gently held his hands, stopping the gestures, not with force but with firmness. Her voice was steady, serious, filled with care. She explained slowly, using simple words, that hands are for kindness, not for hurting feelings. Even if no one was hit, gestures could still wound hearts.
Koy frowned, confused. He hadn’t meant to be bad. He just felt restless, ignored, and excited all at once. Mom listened, nodding, letting him explain in his own messy way. That made a difference. Being heard softened him.
She showed him better ways to express himself. Use words. Ask for help. Walk away when anger grows too big. She demonstrated gentle movements, open palms, calm breathing. Koy copied her, awkwardly at first, then more carefully.
There were tears, quiet ones. Not from fear, but from understanding. Mom hugged him close, reminding him that mistakes don’t make him bad. They make him learning.
Later, when frustration returned, Koy stopped himself. His hands twitched, then rested. He looked at Mom instead. She smiled, proud but quiet.
Advice doesn’t always come from loud lessons. Sometimes it comes from patience, eye contact, and trust. That day, Lil Koy learned that growing up isn’t about never doing wrong. It’s about learning how to choose better next time, with guidance, love, and someone who believes you can.
