If confidence could be built with compliments alone, most kids would be unstoppable by now. They hear it all the time. You are smart. You are kind. You are good at math. You are creative. We say it because we love them and because we want to protect them from doubt, and for a moment it works. They smile, they stand a little taller, and then something difficult happens and the whole thing collapses like a house made of Lego bricks left out on the living room floor.
For a long time I thought this was just how childhood worked. You encourage, they feel better, you repeat. But after years of working with founders and teams and then watching my own kids, Kristoffer and Nikolas, grow up inside all of this, I started noticing a pattern that bothered me. The strongest confidence I saw did not come from being told “you are great.” It came from doing something and seeing that it worked, or at least that it could work if you stayed with it long enough.
That difference matters more than we think, especially because most of us were never taught this ourselves. In school, I learned how to be a good employee. I learned how to follow instructions, hand in assignments and get things right. What nobody ever explained was how to build something of my own. The examples we were shown were always the big business stories in the news, the kind that make it seem like entrepreneurship means becoming the next Elon Musk or nothing at all, which is so far away from real life that it does not feel usable. And maybe it does not have to be. Maybe it is enough to learn the skills and then decide later what to do with them.
Praise is emotional. It lands in the moment and disappears just as fast. Proof is something else entirely. Proof sticks, because it becomes part of how a child sees themselves.
When Kristoffer was younger, he was the kind of kid who would stop trying the second something felt hard. Not because he was lazy, but because he did not want to risk failing at something he cared about. If we told him he was good at something, he felt pressure to stay good at it. If he struggled, it felt like the praise had been wrong, and we definitely had days where encouragement turned into small arguments and tired parenting instead of inspiration.
Entrepreneurship changed that in a way I did not plan. Not because he suddenly loved business, but because small projects gave him something neutral to work with. It was no longer about being good, it was about seeing what happened if he tried, and sometimes what happened was that it did not work at all and we had to sit on the couch and talk about it instead of pretending everything was fine.
That shift from performance to experimentation is where real confidence starts.
School is built around right answers. Entrepreneurship is built around better answers. In school, you either know it or you do not. In business, you find out.
That difference changes how children relate to mistakes. A wrong answer in school feels like failure. A wrong decision in a tiny business feels like information. You learn something and adjust, and the emotional load is lighter even when the situation itself feels awkward.
When Nikolas started selling his homemade healthy chocolate snacks, the first price he chose made absolutely no sense in adult terms, but it made perfect sense to him. We let it be wrong on purpose. Later, we looked at what other similar snacks cost and talked about why people might pay more or less, and suddenly pricing was not math anymore, it was logic, empathy and curiosity mixed together in a way that actually made sense to him.
Confidence came from the process, not from getting it right the first time.
One of the problems with praise is that it does not help much when a child feels unsure. If they believe their value comes from being smart or talented, doubt feels dangerous because it threatens who they think they are.
Entrepreneurship quietly teaches something else. It teaches that effort can change outcomes, that awkward moments pass, and that you can feel nervous and still do the thing, even when you would rather not.
The first time Kristoffer and Nikolas went out to sell something, they were not confident. They were polite, prepared and slightly terrified, and that turned out to be enough. They came back with stories instead of just money, stories about who said yes, who asked questions, and who said no without ruining the day, and in between those stories were also complaints, tired legs and moments where they were done with the whole idea and wanted to go home.
That is a different lesson than “you are amazing.” It is “you can handle real situations.”
There is a special kind of confidence that comes from ownership. When a child knows something belongs to them, they show up differently, not perfectly but personally.
A school assignment can be forgotten. A tiny business feels harder to ignore, not because it is more important but because it is theirs. If they forget to make the snacks, there is nothing to sell. If they do not talk to people, nothing happens. The feedback is direct and sometimes annoying, but also strangely motivating.
This is where independence sneaks in, not as a value we lecture about but as something they practice without noticing.
This is not an argument against encouragement. Children need warmth. They need to feel seen. They need to know we are on their side, especially on the days when everything feels messy and nothing works the way we hoped.
But praise works best when it follows action instead of replacing it. “You kept going even though it was uncomfortable.” “You figured out a new way when the first one did not work.” “You were brave enough to try.”
That kind of praise points back to something real they did, not just who they are supposed to be.
What I care about is not whether my kids feel confident today. I care about whether they believe they can learn tomorrow and whether they trust themselves to try when they do not already know the answer.
Entrepreneurship is just one way to teach that. Not because it creates little business owners, but because it creates experiences with weight, experiences that say you are allowed to experiment, you are allowed to be unsure, and you are allowed to get better.
For parents who search for things like how to build confidence in children, teaching kids independence, or entrepreneurship for kids, this is what it looks like in everyday life. Not a workshop. Not a motivational speech. Just small projects that belong to them and small risks they get to take.
If this way of thinking resonates with you, I walk parents through this approach step by step in my free masterclass, where I explain how entrepreneurship skills can be used to build confidence, independence and real problem solving in everyday family life.
It is not about turning your child into a start-up founder. It is about giving them small experiences that slowly change how they see themselves.
You will learn how to start small, how to choose the right kind of project, and how to support without taking over.
And you might notice something unexpected along the way. Your child will still enjoy being praised, but they will trust themselves more when it actually matters.

Malte Holm
Malte Holm is the founder and CEO of Junior Business Builders, an education company focused on helping children aged 8–15 develop confidence, creativity, and real-world entrepreneur skills. As a parent who has applied these methods with his own children, Malte writes from direct experience, sharing practical, evidence-based approaches that help families build independence, problem-solving skills, and self-belief beyond the classroom.

Junior Business Builders teaches entrepreneurial skills through hands-on missions that build confidence, creativity, and independence in kids.
email: hi@juniorbusinessbuilders.com
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