• Michelle Obama doesn't believe in overparenting her daughters.
• Although she was strict, she wanted them to make and learn from their own mistakes while growing up.
• Her comments come as more parents are rethinking how they discipline their children.

Michelle Obama doesn't believe in coddling kids.

During Wednesday's episode of her and her brother's "IMO" podcast, which featured guests Damon and Marlon Wayans, the former First Lady spoke about her experience raising her kids.

Obama said that even though she was strict with her daughters, she felt it was important for them to make their own mistakes.

"And I think nowadays a lot of parents are trying to live their kids' lives for them so that they don't make any mistakes and don't feel any sense of failure, which keeps them from learning," Obama told her cohost Craig Robinson and her two guests.

The "Becoming" author also spoke about how she wanted her daughters to make sound decisions on their own, meaning she had to stop overparenting them.

"It's like, you know what, I raised you all to have some sense, to have judgment. And at some point, you've got to practice that, which means that I've got to let go," Obama said.

She shares two daughters, Malia and Sasha Obama, with her husband, former US President Barack Obama.

She added that she tried to give her kids more rope before they went to college.

"And I think that the reverse happens now is that everybody's trying to hold on to their kids. But one day they're going to get out there, and the only thing that is for certain for kids getting out in the world, is they're going to get hit with some failure," Obama said.

To help kids handle failure, she says parents should start letting them make decisions early on.

"Choosing the knucklehead boyfriend and holding your tongue, and showing them that you trust them so that when they do fail, they'll come back," she said.

Obama's comments come as more parents are rethinking how they raise their children.

In recent years, gentle parenting has been a big trend, especially among millennial parents. This parenting style frowns upon punitive methods while emphasizing respect and understanding of children's emotions.

Similarly, permissive parenting involves not setting or enforcing many rules for kids. While this parenting style can foster a stronger bond between parents and their children, it may lead to kids having trouble with self-regulation.

In a personal essay for Business Insider, child psychologist Michele Borba wrote that parents can instill resilience in their kids by letting them fail.

She wrote that one way would be for parents to stop trying to fix their kids' problems.

"Instead, step back and subscribe to a new parenting behavior: 'Never do for your child what your child can do for themself,'" Borba wrote.

A representative for Obama did not immediately respond to a request for comment sent by Business Insider outside regular hours.

• Before I had kids, I judged moms who yelled. Then I had a few of my own and I got it.
• Raising my voice to get my kids' attention became the norm, but it set a dangerous precedent.
• With my husband's support, I was able to make some significant changes in how I react.

Before I had kids, I used to judge moms who yelled at their children in public. I thought I would be different, the kind of parent who never raised her voice. Years later, I found myself doing exactly what I swore I wouldn't: yelling to get my kids to listen.

With my firstborn son, I was much gentler. I had my struggles, but my anger was mostly in check. Then, my second and third children came along, and everything changed. A demanding full-time job (I work from home), health issues, and my husband's long work hours built up a frustration inside me that I didn't know how to handle. My tolerance for mischief significantly declined, and even minor annoyances set me off.

At first, yelling worked. One loud reprimand, and my kids dropped whatever they were doing. But I didn't realize I was setting a dangerous precedent.

Over time, they stopped responding to my normal voice. I found myself trapped in a cycle: ask nicely, ask again, raise my voice, and then finally yell. They only listened when I shouted, and I hated that version of myself.

The toll of constant yelling

The more I yelled, the more ineffective it became. In public, I could get them to behave with a stern look or a whispered warning. But at home, they had grown so used to my raised voice that they barely flinched unless I was full-blown shouting at them.

It wasn't just them who became accustomed to this behavior and volume — it was me, too. The feeling of not being heard, the loss of control, the constant frustration, it drained me. Some days, I was on the verge of tears. Other times, the stress triggered migraines. My husband, while often the friendlier parent, occasionally raised his voice too, but he never relied on it the way I did. I knew something had to change.

I knew I had to stop

One day, I had a migraine while home alone with the kids. My husband was at work, and I needed them to lower their voices. But no matter how many times I asked, they ignored me. I didn't have the energy to yell, and it hit me. I couldn't keep relying on shouting to get through to them.

Another moment of realization came when we had guests over late at night. My older kids had an exam the next morning, and I told them to go to bed. But they were too excited, playing with the guests' children, and completely disregarded me. I felt powerless, but I also didn't want to raise my voice in front of company. If I couldn't enforce boundaries without yelling, what kind of parent was I?

My youngest daughter, now 3, mimics everything her older brothers do. I realized that if I didn't change, she would grow up thinking that yelling was normal, too. That was my breaking point. I had to do better. For them and for myself.

How my husband and I turned things around

My husband and I agreed that things needed to change. He validated my frustration and stepped in to help, not by fixing my reactions but by supporting me. When situations started escalating, he intervened before I hit my breaking point. He also took on more responsibilities. Now, he gets the kids ready and drops them at school so I can start my day feeling more rested.

On my end, I worked on self-regulation. I let go of the little things, like a spilled cup of milk, noisy mornings, and chaotic pillow fights. I reminded myself that kids will be kids. No amount of yelling would magically turn them into quiet, mature adults.

Instead of raising my voice, I focused on consistency, active listening, and positive reinforcement. If they didn't listen, I followed through with consequences instead of shouting.

I admit, it was not an overnight fix. Some days, it felt like trying to tame a roaring dinosaur with a whisper. But I stuck with it.

One night, after a particularly calm bedtime routine, my younger son held my face and kissed me, saying, "You're a loving mom again." That moment reassured me I was on the right path. Slowly but surely, things improved. My kids started responding to my normal voice, and even when they pushed back, they did so with respect. They didn't want the old, yelling version of me any more than I did.

The chaos is still there, but I handle it differently

My house is still noisy. The kids still argue. There are still moments when things spiral out of control. But I have learned to handle it differently. And the best part? I have finally let go of yelling for good.

• I learned early on that discipline was ineffective with my children and caused more harm than good.
• Now I try to put the focus on empathy, letting my children make choices without fear of judgment.
• Meditation and self-care improved the my parenting and the overall mood in our household.

Strolling the aisles of my grocery store, dwelling in the bliss of a mother that gets to shop alone, I heard the piercing cry of a toddler, followed by a caregiver, loudly admonishing, "If you drop that again, I'm not giving it back to you."

I didn't just hear that — I felt it, because I used to be that caregiver. Half-running behind my cart, wild-eyed, yelling at my children as I struggled to remember everything I needed to make dinner that night. Some days, usually when my plate is too full, I turn into her again.

Every mother knows this pattern. On a recent morning, getting the kids ready for school, my husband, sensing I was touched out, said he would take over. On the way out the door, our 10-year-old said to our 7-year-old, "When mom's not happy, no one is."

This is, unfortunately, correct. I am, overall, in a good place now, but it was an arduous road, full of missteps and switchbacks.

I learned early on that discipline caused more harm than good

Back when our daughter was 2, we tried to give her a time-out. We sat her in a little chair and told her to stay put. She did, bawling uncontrollably, while my husband and I exchanged nervous glances while still trying to look authoritative.

I can't even what we were disciplining her for, but I will never forget how I felt, which was ridiculous, for trying to instill a punishment on someone barely able to verbalize that they are sorry for something. Eventually, I picked her up and told her I was sorry. She cried for a long time in my arms, and I think it is safe to say, she had no idea why.

That was our first, and last, time-out. It was also the beginning of me realizing that it was awfully coincidental how much my children seemed to misbehave when I was in a terrible mood.

I aim for a house where children feel safe to make mistakes

It is difficult to unlearn that mistakes are bad, that it doesn't matter if you spill the milk on the couch, or forget to say thank you. I want to be clear that I am no zen master, drifting around my yard in flowing robes, lifting my hand for a hummingbird to land on it. What I do know is that the yelling, strict rules, and ultimatums didn't work. Instead, they caused fear, and I could sense, if I kept going with it, it would teach my children, a little earlier than I prefer, how to lie.

So I let my children be children. My house often looked like it had been robbed. When my kids had tantrums in public, I just waited until they stopped. I try to put the focus on empathy and understanding, letting my children make choices, odd as they might be, without the fear of the judgmental gaze of others, which is often the hardest thing to ignore.

When a situation does arise where I have to intervene, I lean heavily on the concepts of distraction and humor. I might say something like, "Hey, which one of your cousins do you think smells the worst?" If things get really bad, there is always tickling. If none of this works, I close my eyes, and imagine an elephant walking through the grasslands. Trust me, this is calming.

I had to learn to take care of myself

I taught myself to meditate, and it changed everything. When I am calmer, my children are happier. It sounds so simple, but it took me years to understand that a less stressful household also made my children relax.

In all of the preparation I undertook to have children, I didn't come across a syllable of advice that said perhaps, just maybe, consider the weight of motherhood on your mental health, but I sure did buy a ton of stuff. I could fill oil drums with all of the equipment I was told I needed in order to be a mother. Now I know, what I needed most was permission to care for myself. After all, when mom is happy, other people can be happy, too.