Parenting is tough, especially without positive examples to follow.
A Complete Contrast
It’s simple: I remember how my mom raised me, and I do the exact opposite. In a way, she’s my guide—but only in showing me how NOT to raise my own kids.
The Process
I consciously avoid treating my child the way my parents treated me. I don’t react like they did to me and my actions. I know my most sensitive "triggers" and have learned to manage them. For example, I promised myself I’d never yell at my daughter the way my mom yelled at me—and I kept that promise until one night she came home at 3 a.m. instead of 11 p.m.
While yelling, it suddenly hit me: thirty years ago, the same scene happened to me—but I was the child being yelled at. That memory snapped me out of it enough to stop yelling, and since then, I’ve been even more careful not to "turn into my mother."
The Conflict
This is a constant inner battle for me. I want to be a kind and loving mom so my child grows up in a healthy environment. But it’s hard because all I know is toxic chaos. Luckily, my husband’s family is relaxed and supportive, so I often mirror his calm reactions.
Father and Son
I was a shy little boy. My dad was an alcoholic—not aggressive but distant and never really involved. When my son was born, I was excited because I thought I’d show him how my dad should have treated me. I wanted to be the father I never had. The problem is, I don’t really know how to connect with my son.
I try, but he prefers his mom. He adores her and is so "mommy’s boy" that it feels like he doesn’t need me at all. Recently, I argued with my wife and, out of frustration, said that maybe our son would be closer to me if I didn’t have to work all day and only saw him exhausted for an hour before bed. But I know I was wrong. I was projecting my own frustration onto her because I can’t build a close father-son bond with my own child.
Just the Same
My mom loved my little brother more, and I promised that none of my kids would ever feel neglected. Still, I have to admit I enjoy being with my son more than my daughter. I tell myself it’s because she’s more complex, but my therapist suggests it might be because I have no happy memories with my mom and only remember how kind she was to my brother. It’s tough.
The Face
Despite reading countless books on gentle parenting, I’ll never forget my son’s terrified face the first time I snapped at him in a moment of rage. He talked back and pushed my buttons, but when I saw his wide, scared eyes, I immediately stopped. It reminded me how scared I was of my dad when he lost his temper with me. Breaking these harmful patterns is hard when that’s all you’ve known, but I’m trying because I promised this nightmare ends with me—and my child won’t carry it forward.
