There’s a kind of laughter that doesn’t feel good. The kind that doesn’t come from a joke shared together, but from being the punchline. When a child becomes the target of a parent’s teasing, especially in front of family or friends, it can leave a mark far deeper than most adults realize. What seems like harmless fun, what might even draw a few chuckles from the room, can quietly begin to chip away at a child’s sense of self. And once that foundation is cracked, the effects can echo for a lifetime.
Children trust their parents to protect them. That trust isn’t just about keeping them safe from physical harm—it’s about emotional safety too. When that safety is broken by the very people they look up to, it’s confusing and painful. Imagine being a young child, maybe six or seven, and hearing your parent mock the way you talk, laugh about your fears, or tell embarrassing stories about you at a family dinner. Everyone laughs. You smile too, maybe even giggle nervously. But inside, something shifts. You start to feel small. Exposed. Powerless. And worse, unimportant.
Most parents don’t mean to hurt their kids. They think they’re just being funny or relatable. Maybe they’re trying to break the tension in a room or connect with others by sharing a story. But children don’t always understand the difference between a joke and a jab. What seems like lighthearted teasing to adults can feel like deep rejection to a child. Kids are still learning who they are. They build their self-worth based on how the most important people in their lives treat them. If they keep hearing that they’re clumsy, annoying, overdramatic, weird, or stupid—even if it’s “just a joke”—they start to believe it.
What’s even more damaging is when this kind of behavior happens regularly, especially in public or online. Today’s world is full of social media “humor” that thrives on making fun of people. Parents post videos of their kids crying, failing, or doing something awkward and frame it as entertainment. They caption it with something funny, something that will get likes or comments. But at what cost? That video might get a few laughs from strangers, but what does it teach the child? It teaches them that their most vulnerable moments aren’t private or sacred. It tells them that being humiliated is acceptable as long as others find it amusing.
And those videos don’t go away. They live on the internet forever. A moment of embarrassment becomes a permanent piece of a child’s digital footprint. Someday, a classmate or coworker might stumble upon it. The laughter that was once confined to a family living room or a group chat can suddenly go global. And for the child in the video, it can feel like the whole world is laughing at them. The anxiety, the shame, the deep sense of exposure—it stays.
Confidence isn’t something kids are born with. It’s something they grow into, and they grow it with the help of the adults around them. Every encouraging word is like a brick in a strong wall. Every time a parent tells their child “I believe in you,” it adds to their sense of worth. But insults and ridicule are like hammers chipping away at that wall. And when those insults come during the early years—when a child is most impressionable—they do the most damage.
What many parents don’t realize is that children don’t forget these moments. They may not bring them up, they may laugh along at the time, but the sting remains. That feeling of being laughed at by someone they love and look up to doesn’t just disappear. It gets stored, often buried deep, and it shows up later in the form of low self-esteem, fear of speaking up, social anxiety, or difficulty trusting others. Some children become quiet and withdrawn. Others become overly perfectionistic, desperate to avoid being laughed at again. Some lash out or become defensive in relationships. It all goes back to that core memory—the moment they felt betrayed by the people who were supposed to support them the most.
There’s also a dangerous pattern that can start to form. If a parent frequently teases or mocks their child in front of others, it signals to those others that it’s okay to do the same. Cousins, siblings, even other adults may start to copy the behavior. The child becomes the family clown, the easy target, the one everyone pokes fun at. And even if the teasing isn’t meant to be cruel, the experience of being constantly picked on becomes deeply isolating. It creates a feeling of being “less than,” of not being taken seriously, and of always being on edge.
Some parents argue that teasing helps “toughen kids up” or that it’s just part of growing up. But resilience doesn’t come from being hurt—it comes from being supported. True confidence isn’t built by pushing kids down and expecting them to climb back up. It’s built by lifting them, showing them they matter, and helping them feel safe enough to take risks. Children don’t need to be laughed at to become strong. They need to be loved, respected, and encouraged.
Humor can be a beautiful part of family life. Joking around, playing, laughing together—those are the memories kids cherish. But there’s a difference between laughing with your child and laughing at your child. When humor becomes hurtful, even unintentionally, it stops being bonding and starts being damaging. And once the damage is done, it can take years to repair.
If you’re a parent reading this and recognizing that you’ve made this mistake, don’t panic. Most parents have, at some point, crossed the line without realizing it. What matters is what you do now. Start by paying attention to how you talk about your child in front of others. Ask yourself: Would I want someone to say this about me? Would I feel proud if my child repeated this story to someone else? Would I post this moment online if it were about an adult I respect?
Then talk to your child. Tell them you’re sorry if you’ve ever made them feel embarrassed or small. Let them know you didn’t mean to hurt them. Ask them how they feel when you share stories or make jokes about them. Listen carefully to their answers. Validate their feelings, even if it’s uncomfortable. Repairing trust takes time, but it begins with honesty, humility, and a willingness to grow.
And when you’re tempted to post something online that shows your child crying, failing, or doing something “funny” at their expense, pause. Think about how they might feel watching that video ten years from now. Think about who else might see it. Think about what you’re teaching them about their worth. Choose their dignity over digital applause. Choose their confidence over clicks.
Raising a confident child doesn’t require perfection. It requires consistency, kindness, and respect. It means protecting their self-image, especially when they’re still forming it. It means standing up for them—even when the threat comes from your own words or actions. It means making your home the safest place in the world, a place where they can be themselves without fear of ridicule.
Children are always watching. They learn from the way we treat them, especially when others are around. They notice how we defend them or leave them hanging. They absorb every laugh, every eye roll, every mocking tone. They remember what it felt like to be put on display. And those memories shape the way they see themselves.
So the next time you’re tempted to make a joke at your child’s expense for a quick laugh, stop and ask yourself what it might cost them. Because while laughter fades quickly, the wounds of humiliation take much longer to heal. A single careless comment can live in a child’s heart for years, repeating itself in their mind during moments of doubt.
Let’s raise children who feel seen, heard, and respected. Let’s use our words to build them up, not break them down. Let’s choose connection over comedy, love over laughter, and support over sarcasm. The world will do enough to challenge their confidence. Let’s not be the first ones to take it away.
