“The greatest gift you can give your children is your own healing.” ~ Dr. Shefali Tasbari
Am I doing too much or not enough?
Am I spoiling my child? Am I being too strict on my child? Am I being too soft? Am I spending enough time with my child? Do I help too much? Should I help more?
Will my son be taken advantage of by talking about his feelings? Will my daughter be considered too bossy because she has boundaries? Should I be doing more as a parent? Or less?
These questions flood the minds of parents who have had childhood trauma and who are trying to heal during parenting. Our main goal is simple: not to do to our children what was done to us.
I know that I had my goals before my son. I remember telling myself I wouldn’t have children until I healed enough to not repeat the trauma I experienced growing up. If you’re like me, you probably thought it wouldn’t be too hard.
I had no way of dismissing my son’s feelings. I was going to be present mentally and physically. Whatever it is, I will be compassionate, nurturing and unconditionally loving.
This is what children need and deserve. It is what I need and deserve.
But then the questions begin. Doubt. Second estimate of the constant. That voice that quietly asks if you’re doing it wrong… I call it not good enough.
No matter how many loving things I do, that voice still emerges.
Am I talking about feeling too much? Do I let him handle things with his friends? When he gets upset and says he needs space, should I leave or stay close?
When I think a teacher is being unfair, do I step up or let it go? If I know he needs help, do I wait for him to ask, or do I offer it?
It’s exhausting trying to get it right all the time. When I really sit with it, I notice two core fears underneath everything.
The first is: Am I giving my son too much love?
I always ask her if she wants a hug before giving one.
The other day, he was upset about what happened at school. I sat next to her and asked, “Do you want a hug?”
He didn’t even look at me. “No.”
I paused, not sure what to do next. Every part of me wanted to pull him anyway, to comfort him the way I always needed but never got.
Instead, I asked, “Do you want me to sit with you or give you space?”
“Just sit there.”
So, I did. I sat quietly beside him, fighting the urge to fix it, to say something, to do more, and my mind raced.
Am I doing enough?
Am I doing too much?
Am I getting this wrong?
That moment struck me deeper because affection and comfort were not things I received consistently as a child. I thought it was normal for a long time.
That belief began to change after spending the first night at my friend Molly’s house. Before going to bed, her mother hugged me.
I think it was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. It felt safe, warm, and easy. I wanted more of that.
So, the next night, I told my mom what happened. I asked if she would start cuddling me while sleeping. That didn’t go well.
He got excited and angry. He told me that if I wanted a mother like Molly, I could live with her.
I’m not sharing this to shame my mom. He was neither loved nor nurtured. I don’t think he knew how to give something he didn’t have.
But I didn’t understand it as a child. What I learned instead was that my needs were much greater.
Those beliefs don’t disappear when we grow up. They follow us into youth, into relationships, into parenthood.
So now, when my son says no to cuddles, it just doesn’t seem like a normal choice.
It brushes against something old. And that’s where the Not Good Enough stuff gets louder.
Underneath all of this is the second fear, quieter, but just as powerful: Am I putting too much pressure on him to talk about his feelings? Am I setting him up to appear as weak?
Why do we do this to ourselves? Like many things, it goes back to childhood.
We had emotional needs that weren’t met, and now we’re trying to make sure our kids don’t feel that same void. It’s a beautiful thing.
But there is a big problem. We were never shown how to do this. It’s like trying to get somewhere without a map.
A few years ago, my family and I moved from Mississippi to the mountains of southern Oregon. Now, imagine making that drive with no directions, no GPS, and no one to guide you
Will you get there in the end? probably Will you take wrong turns, get lost and get frustrated along the way? absolutely
That’s what this feels like.
We know what kind of parents we want to be. We don’t have a clear path for how to get there. So, we make mistakes, and then we set ourselves up to make them.
We try so hard to give our kids what they don’t have that we start to question whether we’re overcorrecting. But there’s something that grounds me when that voice is loud.
We often think we owe our children more. More activities. More opportunities. More things.
But I saw children who had very little financially, whose emotional needs were met and they were fine, fine. They were more mentally healthy than most children.
I also know what it’s like to have things but not have the affection, comfort and nurturing that really matter.
If I’m honest, I’d give up a lot of myself to feel safe, seen and loved. That reminder brings me back to what really matters.
Not perfection. connection
Of course, we are going to make mistakes. It is inevitable. And yes, in some ways, we will get it wrong. But here is the difference.
You are doing things your parents didn’t do. You reflect. You question. You care. You are willing to change.
You are working on your own healing while raising your child. This is more important than getting everything right.
If I had to bet, I’d say you’re doing something meaningful that your child will carry with them for the rest of their lives.
Maybe you apologize if you messed up. Maybe you can listen instead of dismissing. Maybe you try again the next day. Those things are not small.
I lose my shit sometimes with my son. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. In those moments, I hear echoes of how I grew up, and sometimes I repeat things I heard as a child that were hurtful.
But I notice it too. Sometimes right after, sometimes immediately. That awareness allows me to make repairs, and things to be repaired will be more than perfect.
When we make amends with our children, we teach them that mistakes are okay. We teach them how to take responsibility, how to reconnect and how to build healthy relationships.
This is something many of us have never been taught and it changes everything. So, when you start questioning yourself again, take a step back.
Remember that you are doing something incredibly difficult. You’re parenting like you’ve never been a parent.
You are learning as you go. You are choosing something different. It’s more important than ever to be perfect. You deserve compassion.
You always did. And now, you can give yourself some of that compassion.
about Mary Beth Fox
Mary Beth Fox is a licensed professional counselor, speaker, and author who helps people understand and heal the childhood roots of not being good enough. Her work focuses on how this belief shapes anxiety, relationships and self-doubt. He is the author of the forthcoming book Not good enough: Finding your roots to get back to who you were meant to be. visit theinnerchildtherapist.comGet his free guide, Why do you feel “not good enough.”And connect with him Instagram, FacebookAnd tiktok.
