I’m Not The Parent I Wanted, But I Am The One I Needed.

I used to think I had to be perfect to undo what was done to me. That if I could just be gentle enough, patient enough, regulated enough, I could rewrite the story. But healing doesn’t make you flawless. It makes you aware.

I’m not the parent I imagined. I yell sometimes. I shut down. I dissociate. I forget appointments. I lose track of time. I cry in the bathroom and then come back out and make dinner.

But I also apologize. I repair. I name what’s happening. I say, “I’m sorry I scared you.” I say, “I’m working on it.” I say, “You didn’t deserve that.”

I’m the parent who sits in silence with my child until they feel safe again. The one who doesn’t always have the right words, but stays anyway. The one who’s learning how to hold space without disappearing.

And maybe that’s enough. Maybe being the parent I needed is more powerful than being the one I idealized. Because I know what it feels like to be unseen. And I refuse to let my children feel that way, even when I’m struggling.

This isn’t perfect parenting. It’s real-time parenting. And that’s what I have to offer.