I never thought I’d get the most insightful parenting advice from a kids’ show, but Bluey has taught me a lot about the kind of parent I want to be. It centers on the relationship between parents and children, one rooted in mutual respect and open communication. That might sound simple, but for many of us raised in older generations, the norm was obedience over understanding. We were expected to comply without question, often at the cost of our own feelings or needs. Parenting back then felt more like control than connection.
Now that I’m raising my own daughter, I often reflect on that contrast. I think about the ways I was raised, and also about the experiences that shaped me, including those I never should have had to endure. I’m a survivor of sexual assault. It took me years to even begin to process the times it happened to me. The crushing silence, the instinct to choose the path of least resistance, to let it happen because saying “no” didn’t seem to matter. That kind of experience teaches you something awful: that your voice doesn’t count. That your body isn’t yours.
Which is why one Bluey episode, my daughter’s favorite (mostly because of the song), really struck me. In it, the family keeps taking things from Bingo without asking. Then her mom gently asks, “Does your outside voice say yes when your inside voice means no?” That line hit me hard. It captured something I wish I had heard, and believed, when I was young.
That question resurfaced for me recently as I’ve been following the Hockey Canada trial. It’s brought up raw, personal memories and reinforced just how important it is to raise children differently. Sex is a vastly different experience for women. In safe, consensual circumstances, it can be beautiful, emotional, connective. But when someone takes that from you, it becomes deeply traumatic. Consent can shift at any time. The body and voice must be heard, respected, and honored. If your inside voice says “stop,” that’s enough. Full stop.
I refuse to raise my daughter the way I was raised. I want to end one-dimensional parenting and teach her that “no” means no, no matter what. Even if she’s okay with something at first and changes her mind, her “no” still matters. Her voice is sacred. Outside of her name, it’s the one thing that is uniquely hers.
I want her to grow up knowing how to speak her truth, trust her instincts, and walk away from anyone who doesn’t listen. Just as importantly, I want her to understand how to respect others’ boundaries. Consent isn’t a one-way street, it’s a mutual agreement, one that everyone involved must uphold.
When I think about the Hockey Canada trial, and the many stories like it, I’m reminded of how urgently we need to teach and model this. We need to respect people when they say “no,” regardless of how far things have gone. Our culture still surrounds sex with silence, shame, and confusion. That silence is dangerous. Most people will have sex at some point in their lives, but we rarely teach them how to talk about it, how to navigate it safely, or how to put consent at the center.
Just because someone kisses you doesn’t mean they want more. Just because clothes come off doesn’t mean they want sex. Consent and communication aren’t optional. They are everything.
That Bluey episode brought it all home for me. Empowering little humans, especially our girls, starts early. If they don’t feel safe saying “no” to the people closest to them, how will they ever believe someone else will listen when it matters most?
