"She Gets That From Me!"

Small words may land bigger than we realize.

Imagine a child's face lighting up—they've just made something, solved a problem, or said something that surprised and delighted them. That private flicker: I did that.

And then someone they love says, "You get that from me."

We've all said it, or heard it said. Sometimes with pride, sometimes with a wince. Seeing ourselves reflected in our children can be one of the most joyful or painful parts of parenthood. It’s deeply human and well-intentioned—a way of reaching toward them to say I see myself in you.

But words like these may do more than we realize, especially when repeated or attached to traits that already feel charged.

Two ideas from psychological research explain why.

Stanford psychologist Carol Dweck has spent decades studying a deceptively simple concept: the

things we say to our kids shape what they believe about themselves and what they think is possible. She describes two mindsets—fixed, and growth. Some children believe their qualities are essentially set. Others see themselves as capable of change through effort and experience. The difference shows up when things get hard. A growth-oriented child thinks I'm not there yet…but I can be. A child with a fixed mindset thinks I'm just not good at this…and never will be.

Brené Brown's work adds an emotional layer—one most of us have felt, but never quite named: the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt focuses on behavior: I did something bad. Shame goes straight to identity: I am something bad.Guilt can move you forward. Shame pulls you inward toward a story that compounds and hardens over time.

Dweck names the thought. Brown captures what it feels like to live with it.

Said about something positive, “You get that from me” can sound like a compliment—often, it is. But something shifts. A glimpse of who they're becoming gets reframed as a glimpse of you. Their pride doesn't disappear, but it may no longer feel entirely their own.

The risk isn’t that they feel bad. It’s more subtle than that. If this “good thing” feels handed down rather than developed, struggle may not mean I need more effort. It may mean I never truly had it. And when things get hard, it can show up quietly: they fold—not from lack of ability, but from the unspoken fear that the gift was never theirs in the first place.

What was meant as praise can become a ceiling—the room beneath it a place they feel driven to protect and prove, rather than free to explore and grow.

When the quality is something the child senses is unwanted—like anxiety, a short fuse, or shutting down under pressure—the dynamic shifts in a different way. Once something is framed as wiring rather than behavior, it becomes harder to imagine change. The child isn't left with a challenge to work through; they're left with an identity to carry. A sympathetic comment meant to explain or connect can unintentionally leave a child with less room to become themselves, not more.

In my clinical practice, I've seen how much of adult therapy is spent revising stories that took root in childhood. Often the work is loosening the grip of that’s just who I am. Discovering that these stories are not fixed—that they truly can change—can be powerfully freeing.

The good news: for our children, that story is still being written.

The antidote isn’t in watching our every word; there’s no script. Instead, it begins with something real from us: a pause and a generous, genuine question.

What was that like for you? Are you proud of yourself?

The words will be yours. The point is simply to give the moment back to them—their effort, their discovery.

What story am I telling? And is it the one I want them to carry?

That child’s face lighting up—or struggling. Meet them there. And let the moment remain entirely theirs.

Our kids are roughly 50% one parent, 50% the other. But they are 100% their own.

Worth a second thought.

Further Reading

• Carol Dweck, Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. The book that introduced the world to fixed and growth mindset, written for anyone who loves or works with children. Dweck writes that if parents want to give their children a gift, the best thing they can do is teach them to love challenges, be intrigued by mistakes, and keep on learning.

• Brené Brown, Daring Greatly. A warm, research-grounded exploration of vulnerability, courage and what gets in the way of genuine connection in families, relationships, and within ourselves. The shame piece is one part of a bigger conversation.

About the Author

Karen Kushell is an Associate Marriage & Family Therapist and Associate Professional Clinical Counselor in private practice under the supervision of Dr. Brette Genzel-Derman, PsyD.

Karen’s style balances thoughtful exploration with practical tools to help clients strengthen agency, build insight and move toward change that feels authentic and sustainable. She sees individuals, couples and groups at the Innovative Group Psychotherapy offices in Studio City and via telehealth in the state of California. www.karenkushell.com