As a mom, I always feel I have to protect them. I talk about them

“As a mom, I always feel I have to protect them. I talk about them because they are the most important things in my life, but they are private people. I won’t use them for my own press.” — so spoke Jami Gertz, and in her words we hear the timeless voice of motherhood, a voice as old as the first cradle-song, as eternal as the bond between parent and child. She reminds us that love is not only tenderness and pride, but also guardianship, a shield raised against the storms of the world.

The mom is not merely the giver of life; she is the sentinel at the gate of her children’s innocence. In this age, where the gaze of the public is fierce and unrelenting, the temptation to exploit what is sacred for the sake of fame is strong. Yet Gertz declares her refusal: her children, though her pride and joy, are not tools for her ambition. This is wisdom: to know that what is most important must be held closest, guarded from the hunger of the crowd.

Consider the story of Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome and philosopher. Though he commanded vast legions and ruled an empire, in his Meditations he wrote not of glory, but of his children, of their upbringing, of his duty to leave them a world worthy of their souls. He did not parade them as ornaments of his reign but sought to shield their spirits from the corruption of power. Like Gertz, he understood that children are not possessions for display, but sacred trusts placed in the hands of parents.

The origin of this wisdom is found in the duality of love: the joy of celebration and the duty of protection. It is natural to speak of one’s children, to share their triumphs, for they are reflections of the heart itself. Yet there is a line between honor and exposure. To honor them is to tell the world they exist and matter; to expose them is to strip away their privacy for gain. In walking this line, Gertz shows the way of balance, the way of dignity.

Her words also reveal a deeper truth about the role of the parent: that the parent’s identity cannot be built upon the child’s shadow. In a world where many seek to rise through spectacle, Gertz teaches restraint. She refuses to let her children become currency for her press, for she knows that their lives are their own stories, not chapters in her public image. This is not only noble—it is heroic. For to resist exploitation when the world applauds it is to walk the harder path of integrity.

The lesson is clear: guard the sacred. Whether it is your children, your family, your friendships, or your deepest values—do not cast them lightly into the marketplace of approval. Speak of them with reverence, yes, but protect their privacy, their dignity, their humanity. What is holy must not be bartered for applause.

Practical action follows: when you are tempted to share too much of what is personal, pause and ask, “Am I honoring them, or am I using them?” Draw boundaries with courage. Celebrate without exploiting. Protect without smothering. In this way, you will build a legacy of trust, and those you love will know they are safe in your care.

Thus Jami Gertz’s words become more than a personal confession; they become an ancient teaching renewed for our age: the mom as guardian, the protector who shields her children not only from physical harm but from the devouring gaze of a world that forgets the sacredness of privacy. Let us all learn from her restraint, for in protecting what matters most, we honor love itself.