Letting Go of the Illusion of Perfect Parenting
No. 101 - A mom’s honest look at control, empathy, and the freedom that comes with acceptance.
Good morning from Las Vegas!
My mom and I are here for a few days to see The Backstreet Boys at The Sphere. I’m writing this before the concert, so I can’t tell you how it was yet—but let’s be honest, I’m fully expecting incredible.
There’s something about being away with your own mom as an adult that makes you think differently about parent–child relationships.
Maybe it’s the looming decision about kindergarten for my son, or the weight of knowing that this one choice feels like it could shape the rest of his life. And once I start spiraling about that, I start thinking about all the decisions I’ll make over the years that will affect him in one way or another.
The other night I joked with my husband, “No matter what we do, at some point he’s going to grow up and be mad at us about something.” I said it half‑kidding, half‑completely‑serious.
Because honestly, every single person I know has some kind of hurt from their childhood or issue with how their parents raised them. They were too controlling. Too absent. Put them in too many activities. Didn’t give them enough unconditional support. Whatever it is, everyone is carrying something from childhood.
Becoming a mom has given me a whole new perspective. Every decision I’ve made since the day my kids were born has come from a place of love. And yet I still question and second‑guess everything.
Should we hold him back a year?
Are we putting them in too many activities at this age?
Should I have let him ride that scary roller coaster at Disney?
I stress because I want what’s best for my kids. I want to shield them from every hurt, every disappointment, every trauma—even though I know that’s impossible. But now I understand my own parents, and my own childhood so much better.
Not only were my parents trying to do the best they could at the time, but they were also doing it while carrying around their own emotional baggage from their own childhood. It’s a never‑ending cycle, and realizing that makes me have a little more compassion for the people who raised me. Becoming a parent myself gave me a whole new level of empathy.
There’s something uniquely complicated about the parent–child dynamic. No matter how much love we pour in, no matter how intentional we are, our kids will grow up with something—some moment, some decision, some season—that lands differently for them than it did for us. That’s just part of the deal.
Oddly, recognizing that gives me a sense of freedom. I can move forward knowing that my motivating factor in every decision is love, and wanting the best for my kids. That is what I can control, and I have to allow the rest to unfold however it may.
I hope that realization gives you a little breath of relief too. Move forward in love, and in grace, for yourself, for your parents, and for your kids. Love is the part we get to choose. The rest is being human.
🧥 An unexpected most-used item from my closet this past week has been my cropped faux Furr jacket. I’ve worn it the past two weekends and it’s been so fun. I bought mine last season, but this version is very similar.
🥓 We cooked these sticky ribs last weekend and they were phenomenal, and the easiest ribs we’ve ever cooked. They bake inside in 2ish hours, and are coated in a delicious sweet and sour sauce that kids and adults both loved.
📖 I can’t read enough feel-good Rom Coms lately, they’re the perfect break from every day life, and I’ve really been loving Abby Jimenez. I finished Part of Your World and Say You’ll Remember Me. Would love other suggestions!
Welcome to new subscribers - James S., Aubrey, Mel, and Sanna. I’m so glad to have you here!
Happy Friday, Friends! I hope you all have a great weekend!
From The Modern Motherhood Musings Archive:
Great one, Bri! xx
Becoming a mom and doing a lot of work has given me both a sense of understanding about my mom and anger. Yes, she did the best she could given her situation and past but she also did no work to protect me from similar trauma. It’s given me a lot to consider in how I’m raising my daughter. At the very least, I hope she sees how hard I’ve worked to break the cycle for her.