Teaching Kids Resilience: Lessons from a Veteran Dad

I didn’t learn resilience in a book. I learned it in the desert, in the middle of Iraq, when everything felt like it could fall apart at any second. And then I had to learn it again back home, different battlefield, same fight. It was quieter here, but lonelier too. The invisible kind of hard.

Now I’m a dad. I’ve got kids growing up in a world full of comforts, screen time, and soft expectations. The schools tell them how to pass tests, but they’re not teaching them how to take a hit and get back up. They don’t learn how to handle real-life failure, rejection, fear, or pressure. Just how to memorize, comply, and keep the peace.

That’s not how I want my kids to grow up. So we do things differently in this house.

I want them to know life can punch you in the gut, and you can still stand. Here’s how I try to teach them resilience. I don’t have it all figured out. But I show up. And that counts for something.

1. Normalize the struggle

If I’m having a rough day, I don’t pretend I’m fine. I’ll say it out loud. “Today was hard.” I don’t drop the full weight on them, but I let them see that struggle is normal. That grown-ups don’t magically get it right all the time. If they think we’ve got it all together, they’ll think something’s wrong with them when they don’t. I’d rather they see me pushing through than faking perfection.

2. Don’t fix everything for them 

It’s brutal watching your kid screw up or struggle. I want to jump in every time, but I hold back. I’ve learned that letting them face the consequences teaches them more than rescuing ever will. That forgotten lunch? It’s a hungry afternoon, but they remember next time. Struggling with schoolwork? They get the pride of figuring it out on their own. They learn that they can deal with discomfort, and that’s powerful.

3. Teach them how to breathe through stress 

This one came straight from combat. When things got loud and scary, sometimes the only thing I could control was my breath. Slow it down. Focus. I teach my kids the same. When they’re melting down or shutting off, we stop and breathe. Simple stuff, but it works. It tells your body you’re safe even when your mind’s racing. They might roll their eyes, but I’ve seen it help.

4. Let them see you fail 

I mess up. Plenty. And when I do, I own it. I don’t pretend I didn’t snap or forget something or say the wrong thing. I tell them, “Yeah, that was on me.” Then I try again. That shows them that failure doesn’t mean the end. It’s just a page, not the whole book. They need to know you don’t have to be perfect to be strong.

5. Talk about fear and what we do with it 

I’ve felt fear in some dark places, real and imagined. I know what it’s like to freeze up or want to run. So I talk to my kids about fear like it’s a normal visitor. We name it. We respect it. But we don’t hand over the keys. Whether it’s a school presentation or something deeper, I remind them that bravery isn’t the absence of fear, it’s deciding to keep going with fear riding shotgun.

6. Make discomfort part of daily life 

Our house doesn’t revolve around being comfy. We take on hard things, on purpose. Early wake-ups. Big chores. Cold mornings. We talk about how lifting weights makes muscles grow, and the mind works the same way. When you stretch into things that challenge you, you grow. If life never pushes you, you stay soft. And soft doesn’t survive the real world.

7. Practice gratitude without sugarcoating 

I’m not here to sell sunshine when it’s raining. But even on rough days, we find something good. Something small. We practice gratitude because it keeps you anchored. Not in a fake-it-‘til-you-make-it kind of way, but in a way that says, “Yeah, this is hard—but it’s not all bad.” That’s what kept me going overseas, and it helps here too.

8. No trophies for showing up 

I’m all for encouragement, but I don’t give high-fives just for breathing. My kids know I notice when they try. When they stick with something. When they fall and get back up. Life doesn’t pay out for participation; it rewards grit, effort, and consistency. And my job is to make sure they understand that.

9. Teach them to serve 

Service saved me more than once. Gave me purpose when I felt lost. I want my kids to understand that life’s not all about them. We check on neighbors. We hold doors. We ask how people are really doing. That builds strength too—the kind that makes you show up when it matters, even when no one’s watching.

10. Be their anchor, not their shield 

I can’t protect them from everything. I shouldn’t try. But I can be steady. I can be here when they come home from a hard day. I can say, “You’re safe now. Let’s talk.” They’ll fall. They’ll fail. They’ll get knocked around. But they’ll know they’ve got a place to land, and that helps them go out and face the world again.

I’m not raising fragile kids. I’m raising kids who can take a hit, get back up, and keep going. That’s resilience. That’s what I learned in the hardest moments of my life. And that’s what I’m passing on.

If this hit home for you, share it with another parent who’s trying to raise strong kids in a soft world. Let’s stop pretending school alone will teach them everything. Real life doesn’t hand out lesson plans.