Tips from Parenting Coach Rebbetzin Ruchi Koval on Fostering Respect and Connection
For parents, watching their children grow into independent adults is a source of tremendous nachas. Yet when that independence leads them to choose a different hashkafa — whether to the left or the right — it can feel deeply personal, leaving both parents and children hurt and on the defensive. We spoke with Rebbetzin Ruchi Koval, a widely respected parenting coach, author, and mother of seven children with diverse hashkafot, about how families can navigate differing approaches to Jewish life while preserving strong relationships, mutual respect, and enduring family bonds.
How can families preserve a close relationship when an adult child develops a different approach to Torah observance?
As parents, we must recognize that Hashem gave us our children as a sacred trust, not as trophies. Each child has a unique psychological, emotional, and spiritual makeup. While we are important influences, we are not the only ones. Our children have free will to choose their own paths.
When our children choose a path to the left or right of our hashkafa, few things are more destabilizing because it shatters the illusion of control. When a child rejects our mesorah, it can be even harder because it feels personal. Yet this is a golden opportunity to work on our middos: to practice humility and patience, give the benefit of the doubt, see the good, refrain from commenting, and demonstrate authentic ahavas yisrael through unconditional love.
Adult children also have a role in preserving the relationship. A child who becomes more religiously stringent than their parents must understand that someone who purportedly represents a stronger commitment to Torah values should also demonstrate greater hakaras hatov, derech eretz, and flexibility. Of course, when there is uncertainty about how to balance kibbud av va’em with one’s religious obligations, one should seek guidance from a competent rav. But in the absence of a genuine halachic conflict, those values are just as important as attending minyan on time or being more stringent about kashrus. Being overly didactic or inflexible only contributes to machlokes.
Similarly, a child who chooses to be less religious is entitled to live as they wish but should recognize that their parents may take the decision personally, feel rejected, or become deeply concerned. When possible, they can reassure their parents that the decision reflects their own journey, not a rejection of their parents, and that they want to remain connected as long as their family can make space for them.
What communication strategies can help families preserve trust, mutual respect, and strong relationships despite hashkafic differences, and what common pitfalls should they avoid?
Even when children are adults, parents should take the lead by setting a respectful tone.
Parents’ needs and boundaries should be reasonable and communicated without criticism or judgment. If the relationship is strong and the child feels accepted, nine times out of 10, they will honor a reasonable boundary. But children who constantly feel criticized or diminished may be less willing to do so because criticism often breeds defensiveness rather than cooperation.
The familiar advice to use “I” statements rather than “you” statements is particularly valuable. Instead of saying, “It’s disrespectful to park in the driveway on Shabbos,” try: “I feel uncomfortable when you park in the driveway on Shabbos. Would you be willing to park on the street or around the corner?” This allows parents to express their feelings while keeping the conversation open.
It’s important to make the distinction between acceptance and approval. I can accept the fact that my child is driving on Shabbos, or not attending her cousin’s wedding which she feels doesn’t comply with her new halacha standards, all without approving. Making “I” statements and respectfully stating your preferences does not mean you approve, but it does you mean you accept what is.
Parents should also avoid pressing their child to explain why they have changed. Often, the child does not fully understand why, and the answer may not matter. Parents should resist making the change about themselves. It is about the child and their journey.
If parents genuinely want to understand whether they contributed to the situation, they can ask, “Is there something we could repair? Is there a way we show up for you that isn’t helpful?” Those questions express a willingness to listen and adapt. By contrast, comments such as, “I don’t understand. We gave you everything. We weren’t so extreme. We were so reasonable,” may leave the child feeling misunderstood and invalidated and could push them further from Yiddishkeit.
Common pitfalls include blame, taking differences personally, speaking lashon hara, inflaming the situation, and adopting a martyr mentality. Parents and children should speak directly to the person with whom they have an issue rather than about them. A child who has an issue with a parent, for example, should speak to that parent instead of involving a sibling, which creates triangulation.
Regardless of the hashkafic changes within a family, relationships can be preserved and even strengthened if both parties put the relationship first. Neither side must compromise who they are, but both must make space for the other.
Differences in hashkafa often surface during family gatherings, Shabbos and Yom Tov meals, and other shared experiences. How can families handle these situations while respecting everyone’s convictions and preserving warmth and connection?
The goal is for families to be together for Shabbos, Yom Tov, simchas, and other gatherings whenever possible. But some events may not be the right environment for a child with a different hashkafa. A long Seder may feel overwhelming, for example, while a family simcha may intensify feelings of isolation.
Parents may need to accept that their child will occasionally sit out a bar mitzvah, Seder, or other event. Not everyone has to attend everything, and these decisions do not have to become fraught. Reassuring a child, “It’s okay if you don’t come. You need to do what’s right for you,” can go a long way, and, paradoxically make it easier for them to show up.
When a child does attend, focus on making them feel welcome. Don’t tell them what to wear; be grateful they are there. Serve foods they enjoy rather than insisting on tradition. If sushi and tacos will bring them to the table, serve those instead of gefilte fish.
Parents must also protect their children from criticism by extended family. If relatives cannot accept a child without making them feel attacked or unwelcome, the child’s place at the family table should come first.
Avoid drawing lines in the sand: “If you’re going to drive, don’t come for Shabbos,” or “If you’re going to wear those clothes, don’t come to the wedding.” Before setting a condition, consider the likely outcome. Will the child stay away? Could it lead to estrangement? If so, is the boundary worth that price?
There is no single answer for every family. The key is to weigh each request against its potential consequences and determine whether it is important enough to risk distance from someone you love, and, in the case of a child who has moved further away from Judaism, alienate them from the community in general.
Religious differences often become more complex once grandchildren enter the picture. How can grandparents honor their own values while respecting their children’s wishes for their grandchildren’s upbringing? What boundaries should grandparents keep in mind?
Your grandchildren are not your children. You already had the privilege of choosing your children’s names and schools, disciplining them, and being mechanech (educating) them. Now it is your children’s turn. Just as you likely would not have wanted your own parents to step in unless you asked, you should take your cues from your children.
A grandparent’s role is to enrich the lives of their children and grandchildren and make those lives sweeter. If they are less observant than you, you can still be a positive role model. This is not about indoctrination; it is about letting them see, “Bubby bakes challah and lights candles on Friday,” or “Zaidy is going to shul.” By living your values naturally, without pressure or judgment, you show them what Yiddishkeit looks like. And by simply being delightful, you help ensure those memories are associated with warmth, love, and joy.
You may be your children’s and grandchildren’s strongest connection to authentic Yiddishkeit. But the moment you become controlling, apply pressure, or offer unsolicited opinions, you give your children an incentive to limit your contact with their family.
Above all, grandparents should follow their children’s lead. Their role is to be loving and supportive. If they are struggling with anxiety or difficult emotions surrounding their children’s choices, they should seek support from a therapist, support group, or trusted confidant rather than placing that burden on their children or grandchildren.
Ultimately, differences in hashkafa do not have to divide families. When parents and children approach one another with humility, flexibility, and unconditional love, they can create space for both deeply held values and meaningful relationships. Families may not always agree, but by choosing connection over control and keeping the door open, they can preserve trust, strengthen their bonds, and continue to grow together.
Ruchi Koval is a sought-after parenting coach and international public speaker on topics of radical acceptance, boundaries, and “Smotherhood.” Ruchi’s approach focuses on a customized attitude toward parenting, empowering parents in their own instincts, in building meaningful relationships with their teens and adult kids, and in developing their own sense of self outside of parenting. Mother of seven, Ruchi is the co-founder and associate director of the Jewish Family Experience, and the author of three books on spiritual self-growth. Her forthcoming book, “Smotherhood,” is currently in progress. Find Ruchi on Instagram and at ruchikoval.com.