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Il suffit parfois dâobserver une famille dans un restaurant, dans un magasin ou simplement dans la rue pour comprendre Ă quel point la place de lâenfant a changĂ©. Un enfant refuse de manger ? On lui propose immĂ©diatement autre chose. Il ne veut pas partir ? Toute la famille attend. Il rĂ©clame un jouet ? Les parents finissent par cĂ©der. Il parle mal ? On excuse son comportement par son Ăąge, sa fatigue ou son caractĂšre.
Bienvenue dans le monde de lâenfant roi.
Lâexpression ne dĂ©signe Ă©videmment pas tous les enfants qui ont du caractĂšre, contestent ou traversent des pĂ©riodes dâopposition. Elle dĂ©crit plutĂŽt une situation dans laquelle lâenfant devient progressivement le centre de gravitĂ© de toute la famille, au point que les adultes finissent par organiser leur quotidien autour de ses exigences.
Quand dire « non » devient presque impossible
Ătre parent aujourdâhui nâest pas simple. Nous sommes entourĂ©s de discours sur lâĂ©ducation bienveillante, lâĂ©coute des Ă©motions, le respect de lâenfant et lâimportance de ne pas reproduire les mĂ©thodes parfois trĂšs autoritaires des gĂ©nĂ©rations prĂ©cĂ©dentes.
Et heureusement, beaucoup de choses ont changĂ©. Un enfant doit pouvoir ĂȘtre Ă©coutĂ©, respectĂ© et considĂ©rĂ© comme une personne Ă part entiĂšre.
Mais une confusion sâest parfois installĂ©e : respecter son enfant ne signifie pas lui donner raison en permanence.
Un enfant peut ĂȘtre triste parce quâon lui refuse quelque chose. Il peut ĂȘtre frustrĂ©, déçu, voire furieux. Et ce nâest pas nĂ©cessairement un problĂšme. Lâapprentissage consiste justement Ă comprendre que toutes les Ă©motions sont lĂ©gitimes, mais que tous les comportements ne le sont pas.
Il peut avoir le droit dâĂȘtre en colĂšre sans avoir celui dâinsulter ses parents. Il peut ĂȘtre déçu sans que lâon doive immĂ©diatement lui offrir ce quâil rĂ©clame. Il peut ne pas avoir envie de ranger sa chambre sans que quelquâun dâautre doive systĂ©matiquement le faire Ă sa place.
Grandir, câest aussi apprendre une chose assez dĂ©sagrĂ©able mais nĂ©anmoins essentielle : « Je nâaime pas cette dĂ©cision » ne signifie pas « cette dĂ©cision doit changer ».
Lâenfant qui ne rencontre jamais la frustration
La frustration est pourtant un apprentissage essentiel.
Dans la vie adulte, personne nâobtient tout ce quâil souhaite. On essuie des refus, on attend, on perd, on doit faire des compromis et accepter des dĂ©cisions que lâon nâa pas choisies. Nous pouvons trouver cela injuste, agaçant ou parfaitement insupportable : cela ne change gĂ©nĂ©ralement rien.
Lorsque les parents cherchent constamment à éviter toute frustration à leur enfant, ils peuvent donc involontairement lui transmettre un message dangereux : « Si quelque chose me déplaßt suffisamment, les autres finiront par changer leur comportement. »
Lâenfant apprend alors que ses Ă©motions peuvent devenir un moyen de nĂ©gociation : une crise permet dâobtenir le jouet, des pleurs font changer le menu, une colĂšre repousse lâheure du coucher et le chantage affectif finit par faire cĂ©der les parents.
Et lorsquâune mĂ©thode fonctionne, pourquoi arrĂȘter de lâutiliser ?
Plus le systĂšme sâinstalle, plus il devient difficile de revenir en arriĂšre.
Des parents qui finissent par redouter les réactions de leur enfant
Le phĂ©nomĂšne le plus Ă©tonnant est peut-ĂȘtre celui-ci : certains parents finissent par redouter les rĂ©actions de leur propre enfant.
Ils savent quâils devraient dire non, mais anticipent dĂ©jĂ la crise qui suivra. Alors ils nĂ©gocient, expliquent encore, promettent autre chose ou finissent par cĂ©der. Pas nĂ©cessairement par faiblesse, mais parfois simplement par fatigue, culpabilitĂ© ou peur du conflit.
Certains ont eux-mĂȘmes grandi dans un environnement trĂšs autoritaire et ont voulu offrir exactement lâinverse Ă leurs enfants. Lâintention Ă©tait louable. Mais Ă force de vouloir supprimer toute forme dâautoritarisme, certaines familles ont Ă©galement fini par supprimer lâautoritĂ©.
Or, entre lâautoritarisme et lâabsence de limites, il existe une troisiĂšme voie : lâautoritĂ© bienveillante.
Dire non nâest pas ĂȘtre cruel. Poser une limite nâest pas manquer dâamour. Demander Ă un enfant de respecter les autres nâest pas lâhumilier.
Les limites permettent au contraire Ă lâenfant de comprendre le fonctionnement du monde qui lâentoure, de savoir ce qui est attendu de lui et surtout de dĂ©couvrir une rĂ©alitĂ© quâil rencontrera tĂŽt ou tard : les autres ont, eux aussi, des besoins, des envies et des limites.
« Mon enfant est roi »⊠mais pour combien de temps ?
Le vĂ©ritable problĂšme de lâenfant roi ne concerne donc pas seulement les parents ou leur confort quotidien.
Il concerne surtout lâadulte que cet enfant deviendra.
Un enfant qui a toujours Ă©tĂ© placĂ© au centre peut Ă©prouver davantage de difficultĂ©s Ă accepter la contradiction, supporter lâattente, reconnaĂźtre ses torts ou tenir compte des besoins des autres.
Il risque alors de dĂ©couvrir brutalement, Ă lâĂ©cole, dans ses relations amicales puis dans le monde professionnel, que tout le monde ne fonctionne pas selon ses rĂšgles. Et le monde extĂ©rieur ne sera pas nĂ©cessairement aussi patient que ses parents.
Un employeur ne dĂ©placera pas une rĂ©union parce quâil nâa pas envie dây assister. Un collĂšgue ne lui donnera pas systĂ©matiquement raison. Un partenaire ne pourra pas satisfaire toutes ses exigences.
La vie impose des limites que les parents ne peuvent pas supprimer indéfiniment.
Le problĂšme nâest donc pas quâun enfant roi soit pĂ©nible Ă huit ans. Câest quâĂ trente ans, plus personne ne trouvera cela attendrissant.
Lâamour nâest pas la satisfaction permanente
Il existe finalement une différence fondamentale entre aimer un enfant et satisfaire toutes ses demandes.
Aimer, câest aussi lui apprendre Ă attendre, partager, remercier, sâexcuser, perdre, entendre « non », respecter quelquâun qui nâest pas dâaccord avec lui et comprendre que ses besoins sont importants, mais quâils ne sont pas les seuls Ă compter.
Lâenfant nâa pas besoin dâĂȘtre le roi de la famille.
Il a besoin dâĂȘtre un enfant : avec des droits, des Ă©motions et des besoins, bien sĂ»r, mais aussi des responsabilitĂ©s et des limites.
Et peut-ĂȘtre que la plus belle preuve dâamour quâun parent puisse donner Ă son enfant nâest finalement pas de lui offrir tout ce quâil rĂ©clame.
Câest de le prĂ©parer au monde qui lâattend.
Parce quâun enfant Ă qui lâon nâa jamais appris quâil nâĂ©tait pas le centre du monde risque simplement de dĂ©couvrir, devenu adulte, que le monde nâavait jamais Ă©tĂ© prĂ©venu.
Child kings and queens: when the child becomes the centre of the world
Sometimes all it takes is watching a family in a restaurant, a shop or simply in the street to realise just how much a childâs place has changed. A child refuses to eat? Something else is immediately offered. They do not want to leave? The whole family waits. They demand a toy? The parents eventually give in. They speak rudely? Their behaviour is excused because of their age, tiredness or temperament.
Welcome to the world of the child king.
The expression obviously does not refer to every strong-willed child who argues or goes through oppositional phases. Rather, it describes a situation in which the child gradually becomes the centre of gravity of the entire family, to the point where the adults end up organising daily life around the childâs demands.
When saying ânoâ becomes almost impossible
Being a parent today is not easy. We are surrounded by discussions about gentle parenting, listening to emotions, respecting children and the importance of not repeating the sometimes very authoritarian methods of previous generations.
And fortunately, many things have changed. A child should be listened to, respected and regarded as a person in their own right.
But confusion has sometimes crept in: respecting your child does not mean agreeing with them all the time.
A child can be sad because they have been refused something. They can be frustrated, disappointed or even furious. That is not necessarily a problem. Learning means understanding that all emotions are legitimate, but not all behaviours are.
They may have the right to be angry without having the right to insult their parents. They may be disappointed without immediately being given what they are asking for. They may not feel like tidying their room without someone else systematically having to do it for them.
Growing up also means learning something rather unpleasant but essential: âI donât like this decisionâ does not mean âthis decision must changeâ.
The child who never encounters frustration
Frustration is nevertheless an essential part of learning.
In adult life, nobody gets everything they want. We are refused things, we wait, we lose, we have to compromise and accept decisions we did not choose. We may find this unfair, irritating or absolutely unbearable: it generally changes nothing.
When parents constantly try to shield their child from every frustration, they may therefore unintentionally send a dangerous message: âIf I dislike something enough, other people will eventually change their behaviour.â
The child then learns that emotions can become a negotiating tool: a tantrum gets the toy, tears change the menu, anger postpones bedtime and emotional blackmail eventually makes the parents give in.
And when a method works, why stop using it?
The more established the system becomes, the harder it is to reverse.
Parents who end up fearing their childâs reactions
Perhaps the most surprising phenomenon is this: some parents end up fearing their own childâs reactions.
They know they should say no, but they are already anticipating the crisis that will follow. So they negotiate, explain again, promise something else or eventually give in. Not necessarily out of weakness, but sometimes simply because of tiredness, guilt or fear of conflict.
Some grew up in very authoritarian homes themselves and wanted to give their children the exact opposite. The intention was admirable. But in trying to remove every form of authoritarianism, some families also ended up removing authority.
Yet between authoritarianism and having no limits at all lies a third option: kind but firm authority.
Saying no is not cruel. Setting a boundary is not a lack of love. Asking a child to respect other people is not humiliating them.
On the contrary, boundaries help children understand how the world around them works, know what is expected of them and, above all, discover a reality they will encounter sooner or later: other people have needs, wishes and boundaries too.
âMy child is kingâ⊠but for how long?
The real problem with the child king therefore does not concern only the parents or their everyday comfort.
It concerns above all the adult that child will become.
A child who has always been placed at the centre may find it harder to tolerate disagreement, wait, admit when they are wrong or take other peopleâs needs into account.
They may then discover rather brutally, at school, in friendships and later in the workplace, that not everyone operates according to their rules. And the outside world will not necessarily be as patient as their parents.
An employer will not move a meeting because they do not feel like attending it. A colleague will not always agree with them. A partner will not be able to satisfy every demand.
Life imposes limits that parents cannot remove indefinitely.
The problem is therefore not that a child king is difficult at eight. It is that at thirty, nobody will find it endearing any more.
Love is not permanent gratification
Ultimately, there is a fundamental difference between loving a child and satisfying every one of their demands.
Love also means teaching them to wait, share, say thank you, apologise, lose, hear ânoâ, respect someone who disagrees with them and understand that their needs matter, but are not the only ones that count.
A child does not need to be the king of the family.
They need to be a child: with rights, emotions and needs, of course, but also responsibilities and boundaries.
And perhaps the greatest proof of love a parent can give a child is not, ultimately, to give them everything they ask for.
It is to prepare them for the world waiting for them.
Because a child who was never taught that they were not the centre of the world may simply discover, as an adult, that nobody had ever informed the world.
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