Will my child grow up to resent being home educated?

I was asked a question recently that I think rings true for many of us, so I want to share it - and then break it down - here today:

"How can I reassure myself that I won't regret this lifestyle, that my young kids won't resent it when they're older?"

This is one of those questions that sits in the back of our minds as home educating parents. It's not a constant worry, but it pops up here and there when certain triggers hit.

You probably know the ones. When you're scrolling through Instagram and see photos of your friend's child beaming in their school play costume, surrounded by classmates. The conversation at family dinner when your relative casually mentions her son's teacher saying he's "gifted at mathematics." The awkward silence when a well-meaning stranger asks your child which school they go to, followed by that look of concern when they hear the answer. The school sports day photos showing kids in matching uniforms, collecting medals while proud parents cheer from the sidelines. The graduation ceremony videos with caps being thrown in the air, marking a major shared milestone.

And then there's the other side - the tougher parts of this lifestyle. When your child struggles to make friends at the park and you wonder if daily classroom interaction would have helped somehow. When they're frustrated trying to learn something new and you question if a teacher would have approached it differently. Those days when your child asks, with genuine curiosity, what school is like. The times when you're exhausted from being their everything - teacher, playmate, personal chef, guide - with no staffroom to retreat to during break time.

These moments hit differently when you're home educating. They just do. Because we're not just second-guessing one decision - we're questioning our entire approach to our children's learning and growth. We've stepped off the common path, so we can't just shrug and say "well, this is how it is, everyone does it this way" when doubts creep in. Instead, we think "oh now, what have I done, is this all a huge mistake...".

Let's pause there, right on that thought, because we need to be objective about how our minds frame these worries. We rarely compare our home education reality - messy and complex as it is - against the actual reality of school with all its own challenges. Instead, we compare our tough days against some perfect version of school where our children would thrive without any struggles or missed opportunities.​

It's like comparing the behind-the-scenes footage of our own lives to everyone else's highlight reel. We see the resistance and uncertainty in our home, but imagine that through the school gates lies some perfect world where learning happens smoothly and children never feel confused or frustrated or left behind or...full of regret and resentment when they're older.

We actually trick ourselves into believing that choosing the conventional path would somehow protect us from regret entirely. As if following the same road as everyone else guarantees we won't take any wrong turns, and that it's absolutely certain we'll look back on that road happy we walked it.

But our deepest regrets rarely come from thoughtful choices made with good intentions. Think about that. Read that line again. Soak it in, because deep down I think you'll find it to be true. Our deepest regrets usually come from ignoring our intuition. From following someone else's path or expectations instead of what we know feels right. From choosing the safe option out of worry rather than choosing the right thing for our family out of conviction.

When I look at parents who genuinely regret their educational choices, they're not the ones who thoughtfully chose a different path. They're the ones who saw their child struggling in a system and kept hoping it would somehow get better. The ones who knew something was off but stuck with it anyway because it was easier not to rock the boat. Maybe you know parents like that. Maybe that's your parents.

Creating a life without school isn't about guaranteeing perfection. It's about creating the freedom to respond to what your children really need, not what some rigid curriculum says they should need. It's about being able to shift when something isn't working, rather than being stuck in a system that moves at its own pace regardless of your child's.

And as for resentment? Children never resent being seen, heard, and respected. What creates resentment is feeling misunderstood, having struggles dismissed, or being forced to fit moulds that don't match who they are.

This doesn't mean we don't face hard conversations. But it does mean that when our children wonder about school or get frustrated with aspects of their life, we can talk about it all openly and honestly. We can adjust our approach. The path isn't fixed.

The real protection against future regret isn't being certain you're always making the right choice - it's building an environment where your children help shape their education and future, where their input matters, and where you can evolve the whole thing together.

I've been thinking a lot about this question since I was sent it last week - about regret, and resentment, and working through the uncertainty of what your child's future might look like. About how to build the confidence and belief that your children will actually thank you for this lifestyle.

So, I've started gathering thoughts on how I can help you do that for this weekend's mini-episode. I'll look at what psychology tells us about regret and decision-making, share some super interesting insights from grown homeschooled and unschooled adults about their experiences (both as children, and now as grownups), and help you sort out which of your worries might be your own real intuition versus which ones are just society's expectations showing up in your head.

Until then, remember that the fact you're even considering this question shows how thoughtfully you're approaching your choices. And thoughtful choices, even imperfect ones, rarely become our deepest regrets.