Raspberry Iced M

There is a strange moment in any mom’s life for which no one prepares us.

I’m a mom. And for me, that moment happened quietly, but quickly. Not overnight – but it’s like I blinked – and then my oldest child became an adult.

And somewhere along the way, she began forming her own conclusions about the kind of parent I was. In some ways, those conclusions have been generous. But usually? Not so much.

Here’s the truth: There is no such thing as a perfect parent.

Every parent makes mistakes. Some small. Some larger than we wish they were.

Parenting is thousands and thousands of decisions made while tired, overwhelmed, and trying to do the best we can with the tools we have at any given time. There is no manual. No how-to video. Just love, instinct, and a lot of trial and error.

What became especially painful was when my now-adult child began to define her entire childhood through a small set of memories that were pivotal for her, or at least central to her narrative. Some mistakes I made. Some moments where I handled something poorly. Times when I was human instead of perfect. Times when I allowed my “feelings” to call the shots. Times when patterns that resurfaced throughout my adult life because I was sad, insecure, struggling with my worth.

And those moments suddenly became the entire story.

And when that happened, the million quiet things I did right – things for which I have never required recognition or rewards – the endless and constant sacrifices, the sleepless nights, the worry, forking over $20.00 bills like they were Jolly Ranchers, folding countless loads of laundry, sitting in 100 degree heat for ballgames, eating what was left on her dinner plate because there wasn’t enough Hamburger Helper for everyone to get a full serving, skipping lunch because the $7 I had wouldn’t cover that and a field trip, buying my own clothes from Walmart because the On Clouds were “just so cool” – faded into the background.

Additionally, bigger things – like the unprecedented, immeasurable support I provided, the numerous times I defended a child everyone said was “using me,” the never-ending grace and forgiveness I offered (because – just like moms – kids also are imperfect) – those things seem to not matter anymore either.

It’s likely that she doesn’t even know about certain things in this laundry list of sacrifices, because I did not want her to know I was struggling and deeply hurting on the inside. It’s also possible that she has conveniently forgotten some of them because her nervous system is trying to keep her safe, and repression goes along with that. And even more than that, it’s possible that she won’t see the good I tried to do because she hasn’t raised her own teenager yet, and the black-and-white world she anticipates having when she does? Well, that doesn’t exist.

Few experiences are as isolating as feeling like your own child had reduced you to your worst moments, especially when you know the fuller, more truthful story, and especially when you remember the years you spent trying your very best.

Parents carry an invisible grief when that happens, because the relationship(s) that once defined your existence suddenly feel(s) distant, complicated, and fragile.

And I have over-analyzed it – all of it – to the point of actually becoming physically ill. What if I had handled that differently? What if I had said something else? What if one decision changed everything? Those questions can haunt a parent for years. And honestly, there are, of course, so many things I would change if given the opportunity.

But that’s the thing about time – we don’t get it back. And we don’t get redos.

This has become a huge source of shame for me, in part, because the stigma around “no contact” is so widely misconstrued by society as a whole.

In recent years, across various social media platforms, in the middle of “pop culture TikTok therapy,” boundaries and “protecting your peace” have become common themes, which can be good, in many ways – people should be able to set healthy boundaries, and no one should be forced to tolerate abuse.

But sometimes those ideas are simplified such that any relationship, no matter how deep or complicated, is very easy to discard. And family relationships are rarely that simple. Most families are made of of imperfect people who loved each other imperfectly.

In my opinion, we, as a society, need to be very careful not to slap a label on something (or someone) without knowing the true meaning of that label.

A few opinions of my own (because this is my forum and I can say what I want):

• “Narcissistic Personality Disorder” is a true, clinical, mental health diagnosis. In order to be diagnosed with NPD, you have to be formally evaluated by a mental health clinician, and during that evaluation, certain criteria must be met. People who do things differently than you are not narcissists. People who disagree with you are not narcissists. Parents who enforce rules are not narcissists. Parents who discipline are not narcissists. People who are selfish or careless are not necessarily narcissists. Liars and cheaters are not necessarily narcissists.
• Insisting that your boundaries be honored while ignoring someone else’s – your parent’s included – is not appropriate behavior.
• Over-generalizing and then globally defining someone by his/her worst moments to fit your narrative is neither wholly accurate nor beneficial.
• If you’re “protecting your peace” by completely cutting someone else off, you’re doing it wrong.
• “Trauma” is not the appropriate term to use when your feelings get hurt.
• “Abuse” is a subjective term, but we need to practice caution when calling people “abusive.” I know that many things are open to interpretation, but to be true “abuse,” some type of repeated negligence and/or violence would need to occur. I really don’t care what TikTok says – parents who enforce curfews are not abusive. Parents who monitor screentime are not abusive. Parents who track your location before the age of 18 are not abusive. Parents who exercise their authority over you – because they’re the adult and you’re the child – are not abusive. Parents who don’t disclose every facet of their lives with you are not abusive. Parents who don’t ask for your consent before making a decision are not abusive.
• It is impractical, immature, and self-centered to assume that your feelings are more valid than your parents’.
• “Mutual respect” is overrated. Kids and young adults these days like to say that “respect goes two ways,” while simultaneously stomping on their parents’ feelings, breaking their rules, manipulating…what’s “mutual” about that? Kids want a say in lives they haven’t fully lived yet. Parents are owed respect simply because they’re older and have more experience. If you’ve never had to choose between buying diapers or a new onesie, if you’ve never had to negotiate a payment plan with the electric company so that you could buy new soccer cleats, if you’ve never paid your own cell phone bill, if you’ve never taken a cold shower because your child used all the hot water – then it’d really be better if you kept your mouth shut. Respect isn’t earned just by what kids choose to acknowledge. That’s like saying, “I’ll praise the Lord for all of his blessings, but I refuse to worship Him just because He’s God.” Huh???
• Your “mental health” is never fully protected, and cutting ties, building walls, etc., does not improve your mental health. In fact, it will take a significant dip.
• Asking your parents to take accountability for an action you perceive as “wrong,” while refusing to acknowledge your own mistakes is – by definition – hypocritical.

If you’re a young adult reading this, please understand that cutting someone out entirely can leave wounds on both sides. I beg of each of you – please stop validating your opinions using quotes and captions on social media. Use your own brain and do your own research.

No one – NO ONE – is going to be able to bend to your every whim, not even your parents. No parent is always going to adhere to your preferences 100% of the time. No mom is going to come away from parenting not feeling a certain amount of inadequacy in her own voice.

Healthy boundaries leave room for openness.
“This behavior isn’t okay.”
“This is what I need moving forward.”
“This is how we can have a relationship safely.”

Total cutoffs are absolute.
“There is no path forward.”

And sometimes distance is necessary in truly harmful situations. If you’re an adult who was abused – or if you were severely neglected – you have (1) my empathy; (2) my support; and (3) my prayers, and I mean that.

But in cases like mine, and in many families, that’s not what has happened. What’s needed most is an honest conversation and mutual growth. Not permanent silence. The idea that a young adult would deactivate half of who he/she is? That is very strange to me. The idea that someone can see all bad and no good? Outside of pedophiles and serial killers, that’s not realistic. Even some of Jeffrey Dahmer’s neighbors have gone on record saying that he was a nice guy.

If you are a mom carrying this pain – if you feel like the narrative and subsequent judgments of your adult child are not truthful or merited, there are a few things worth remembering:

1. You are one of so many parents experiencing this. Most of us carry our grief in silence because of the shame I mentioned earlier. It’s just not something talked about very often. But it is a widespread trend. And even though that doesn’t take away from our own stories, we should find some amount of solace in knowing that “cut off culture” has a lot less to do with us, and a lot more to do with a general mindset of entitlement, lack of empathy/understanding, and just straight up stubbornness.
2. The bad chapters of your life as a mom do not definitively make up the mom you were, even if other parties only choose to focus on what you “didn’t do right.” Yes, your mistakes matter. But so do the thousands of loving, unselfish things you did that rarely are mentioned/remembered. The whole concept of “you’re a parent so you’re supposed to [insert trivial sacrifice here]…” That’s just simply not the case, no matter another’s refusal to see it. Since there is no rulebook associated with parenting, there are different interpretations of what is required of a parent. When I was young, it was just understood that food, clothing, and shelter made up the entire list. I tried (and still try with my youngest) to do more. I bent to their preferences. I valued their opinions. I gave them a voice. I was [probably too] honest with them about certain struggles that come with being an adult, in an attempt to help them understand that life is incredibly messy. It was all in vain.
3. Regret does not always equal failure. Looking back and wishing you had done something differently is part of being human, and that doesn’t go away just because you’re a mom. It also doesn’t erase the love that existed. On really sad days, when I am hyper-fixating on these regrets, I wallow in those shoulda/coulda/wouldas. But it doesn’t do anything for me now – it just prolongs the sadness.
4. Your identity is bigger than motherhood. I have such a hard time with this one, because I found out I was pregnant for the first time 10 months into adulthood. And I have spent my entire adult life finding my sense of purpose inside my kids, so that when one of those relationships essentially disappeared, I felt like I was losing myself. But part of healing is rediscovering who you are beyond that role, and making peace with the forfeiture of that particular role. I have learned so much about myself recently. And even if I’m not 100% thrilled with the content of that education, I am doing the hard work – and that does matter.
5. Peace does not come from endless punishment. It is natural to replay the past. But living in “what ifs” forever will not repair the relationship. Neither will constant acknowledgement of their “truth,” meaningful sincere apologies, constantly reaching out, bending until you almost break, or validating someone else’s feelings while relinquishing your own narrative. None of those things will allow you to actually heal.

Some parents and adult children eventually find their way back to each other. Some take years. Some never fully repair. And that uncertainty is incredibly difficult to live with.

But one thing remains true, no matter what: You can continue growing, reflecting, and becoming a better version of yourself – whether or not someone else – even your own child – recognizes that growth.

The mistakes I made were real doozies, and I offer no excuses for my lapses in judgment. I will not defend my poor choices to anyone, ever, especially my kids.

No parent gets everything right. Not the ones we admire. Not the ones we criticize.

We all raise our children while we – ourselves – are still learning how to be human. And sometimes the most compassionate thing a mom can do – after years of loving imperfectly – is to extend a little bit of that compassion to herself. So I encourage all moms to do that today. You’re worth it.