Long before we teach kids how to throw a punch, set a boundary, or walk away from danger, they’ve already been quietly shaped by thousands of small messages. Some come from us. Some come from school, friends, movies, TV, and the internet. And most of the time, those messages don’t come in bold print. They come in tone, expectations, praise, criticism, and “good girl / good boy” comments that slowly hardwire behaviour.
Let’s start with girls.
From a very young age, girls are often taught to be polite, gentle, helpful, and aware of other people’s feelings. We praise them for being well-behaved, neat, quiet, caring, and understanding. On the surface, none of this is bad. In fact, these are wonderful qualities. The problem is when those qualities come at the expense of her own safety, voice, and power.
Many girls grow up learning that their job is not to upset people. Not to be “too much.” Not to make a scene. Not to be rude. They’re taught to smile even when they feel uncomfortable. To laugh off things that bother them. To give someone the benefit of the doubt. To think about how the other person feels first.
Add to that the pressure around appearance. From a disturbingly young age, girls start receiving the message that how they look matters. Hair, body, skin, clothes, weight. Over time, the mirror becomes a judge. And when that happens, confidence starts to grow from the outside in, instead of the inside out.
Then we add in what they see on screens. Too often she is the one screaming, freezing, or waiting to be saved. She is portrayed as overpowered, cornered, or submissive. And when this story is played out again and again, it becomes a blueprint in the mind.
Yet here is something I always remind people of. One of the most primal, powerful functions on this planet is childbirth. Most men could not endure that level of pain, intensity, or physical demand, and yet women do it, sometimes multiple times. Women are not weak. They are biologically and psychologically wired for strength, endurance, and protection. The problem isn’t ability. The problem is permission.
In every single self-defence class I run, the moment that truth becomes visible is when we run a scenario involving a mother and her child. The second a “threat” is aimed at her child, something ancient switches on. Her nervous system lights up. Her posture changes. Her voice changes. The softness disappears and raw power takes its place. I’ve seen tiny, gentle, quiet women suddenly unleash a level of aggression, speed, and determination that shocks even themselves.
The “mama bear” is not a myth. She is real. And she lives in every woman.
What’s interesting is that many women find it much easier to defend their children than to defend themselves. That tells us something important. It means the power is there, it’s just been pointed outward instead of inward. A big part of self-defence training for women isn’t about learning new strength, it’s about giving themselves the same value and protection they would instantly give to someone else they love.
And to do that, they often have to override years of social conditioning that says: be nice, be quiet, be polite, don’t make a scene, don’t be aggressive, don’t hurt anyone’s feelings.
Real self-defence is not graceful. It’s not gentle. It’s not pretty. And it doesn’t care about social rules.
Now let’s look at boys.
Boys are often raised in a very different emotional environment. They’re encouraged to climb higher, hit harder, play rougher, and push boundaries. Physical activity is praised. Independence is celebrated. They’re told to “man up,” “tough it out,” and “don’t cry.”
This can build resilience, courage, and confidence, but it can also teach boys to disconnect from their feelings. They often learn that vulnerability equals weakness, and that strength means silence. So while girls are sometimes taught to be too soft, boys are sometimes taught to be too hard, even with themselves.
Boys are taught to lead, to take risks, to be assertive. Again, these can be powerful traits, but only when balanced with emotional awareness, respect, and self-control. When not guided properly, it can turn into dominance instead of confidence.
Both paths come with limitations.
Girls sometimes need help finding their voice and their fire. Boys sometimes need help understanding their feelings and their boundaries.
And both need to learn that real strength is not about gender. It’s about awareness, decision-making, boundaries, and self-belief.
From a self-defence perspective, the goal is not to make girls more like boys or boys more like girls.
The goal is to raise humans who understand that:
- They have the right to say no
- They have the right to trust their instincts
- They have the right to take up space
- They have the right to protect themselves
- And they are not responsible for making dangerous people feel comfortable
As a parent, the most powerful thing you can do isn’t teach your child how to fight. It’s to teach them that their safety, body, boundaries and voice matter. That they don’t owe politeness to someone who makes them feel unsafe and that they don’t need permission to protect themselves.