As the clock struck midnight to welcome in 2021, I didn’t set traditional New Year’s resolutions. Instead, I made a promise to myself to become a better version of who I was the previous year, particularly in my role as a mother. And let me tell you, there’s plenty of room for improvement.
Honestly, I’ve felt a deep sense of embarrassment over how I speak to my children. I might excel at imparting lessons about good manners, hard work, and even the intricacies of using a lawn mower, but there are moments when my inner ogre takes over more often than I’d like to admit.
I tend to lose my cool when my kids don’t follow through with tasks I ask them to do—tasks that I remind them of daily.
- “Did you brush your teeth?”
- “Is your bed made?”
- “Have you hung up your backpack?”
- “Put those dirty dishes away!”
You’re nodding along, right? I can only imagine how tired they must be of hearing me repeat myself—because I know I’m exhausted from the constant reminders. I’ve often rationalized my yelling with the thought that “I asked nicely three times, so they had it coming.” But then I find myself stuck in a cycle of nagging and wondering why my kids don’t magically comply.
- “Why can’t you just do it without me saying it four thousand times?”
- “What part of ‘no’ is unclear?”
- “If I have to remind you about this one more time, I’m going to lose it!”
What I’m really doing isn’t parenting; it’s shaming. When I reflect on who I truly want to be as a mother, I realize that I want to be joyful and loving. I want to show my kids compassion, empathy, and forgiveness while leading by example. I aspire to create unbreakable bonds with my family that no mistake—big or small—could ever sever. Instead, I worry that my actions are driving a wedge between us.
How can I hope to cultivate that kind of relationship when I’m resorting to shame? Parenting should be about embracing our kids, flaws and all, rather than shaming them into compliance.
As I grapple with my insecurities, I’ve come across insights that suggest we often repeat the patterns of behavior we experienced ourselves. A particularly striking article in Psychology Today described this as a “legacy of distorted love.” A lightbulb moment, right?
Brené Brown, in her book Daring Greatly, dedicates a chapter to the concept of shame, and I found myself highlighting key passages. One quote hit home: “Often, not being good at vulnerability means we’re damn good at shame.” Talk about a realization!
It’s ironic because I’m pretty open about my feelings in my writing, yet as a parent, I struggle with vulnerability. I’m supposed to have all the answers, to guide my children through life’s maze. How can I let them see that I don’t have it all figured out?
My real mistake hasn’t been my imperfections as a mother; it’s been hiding my imperfections from my kids. When they stumble, I feel like I’ve failed too. Instead of creating teachable moments, I inadvertently morph into a source of shame—distracting myself from my own feelings of inadequacy as a parent. This reaction only adds to the cycle of shame, and soon, any learning opportunity is lost in the chaos of hurt feelings and fragile self-esteem.
Where’s that parenting manual when you need it?
After each incident, I’m left sifting through guilt:
- Have I harmed them beyond repair?
- Will they look back on their childhood and wonder how they survived?
- Will they feel inadequate?
- Will they grow up resenting me?
- Will they struggle to afford therapy?
I’m gradually learning that my past does not define me. Brené suggests that we “own the story” rather than bury it. “If you own this story, you get to write the ending.”
So, here I am, crafting a new conclusion:
- Because I love my children, I will foster their independence by living courageously and staying true to my beliefs.
- Because I love my children, I will encourage them to dream big and listen to their hearts by following my passions.
- Because I love my children, I will demonstrate the importance of strong relationships by being open and vulnerable.
- Because I love my children, I will instill values of hard work and humility by working alongside them and embracing failure as a part of growth.
- Because I love my children, I will promote gratitude and abundance, steering clear of fear and scarcity.
- Because I love my children, I will show them the beauty of imperfections by sharing and owning my own story.
- Because I love my children, I will strive to be a better mom by respecting who they are and parenting with love instead of shame.
I’m ready for the peace that comes after the storm.
If you’re navigating similar challenges in parenting or have questions about home insemination, check out resources like Women’s Health for comprehensive information, or explore Intracervical Insemination for helpful tips. You can also find expert advice at Make A Mom.
Summary
The author reflects on her struggles with how she communicates with her children, feeling ashamed and frustrated by her parenting style. She recognizes the need to embrace her imperfections and foster a loving, respectful relationship with her kids instead of resorting to shaming. Through insights from Brené Brown and her own experiences, she vows to create a nurturing environment that encourages growth, vulnerability, and love.