The Awakened Heart: A Podcast for Healing Women

You Did Your Best - And Your Child Is Still Hurting. Now What?

• Autumn Moran • Season 1 • Episode 34

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When your child says “you hurt me,” do you freeze, defend, or try to explain it away? We’re getting radically practical about what true repair looks like; how to hold your child’s pain without making it about your own, and how to rebuild trust with curiosity, accountability, and consistent action.

We unpack five core truths most parents were never taught: the power dynamic that still echoes in adulthood, why your child is not an extension of you, how intentions don’t erase impact, and why their boundaries are not a punishment. You’ll hear clear, real-world scripts to replace defensiveness with validation, from “tell me more about what that was like for you” to “I can see how my actions affected you.” We also address tough family scenarios such as when a child doesn’t feel safe around a relative, when siblings harm each other, and the quiet damage caused by stonewalling and forced forgiveness. Safety before comfort becomes the guiding principle.

Then we move from insight to action. Learn reflective listening, regulate your nervous system in hard conversations, and seek support so your child doesn’t have to carry your feelings. The throughline is simple and hard: choose repair over ego, consistency over performance, and accountability over shame.

If you’re ready to stop competing in the pain Olympics and start building a relationship grounded in truth, this conversation is your roadmap. 

About Me:

I’m Autumn Moran, a Licensed Professional Counselor in Texas specializing in trauma-informed care for neurodivergent women and trauma survivors.


Therapy (Texas residents only):

I provide individual therapy in my private practice for women working through trauma, late diagnosis processing, relationship challenges, and healing from narcissistic abuse or toxic family systems. My approach is neurodivergent-affirming and focuses on helping you understand your patterns while building practical tools for nervous system regulation and authentic living.


Life Coaching (available anywhere):

For women outside Texas or those wanting support alongside therapy, I offer:

•Somatic Healing Coaching: Bridges the gap between cognitive understanding and embodied healing through nervous system work, movement practices, and practical integration tools. Perfect as a complement to talk therapy or for those ready to work directly with their body’s wisdom.

•Unmasking Journey Coaching: Specialized support for late-diagnosed neurodivergent women learning to reconnect with their authentic selves after decades of masking. We work on identifying your real needs, rebuilding your sense of self, and creating a life that fits who you actually are.


Whether you’re healing trauma, discovering yourself after late diagnosis, or both, my goal is to help you not just understand your story, but feel genuinely safe and at home in your own body.


Subscribe & Share:

New episodes drop every Wednesday and Friday. If today’s episode resonated, please share it with someone who needs to hear it or leave a comment—it helps other women find this space and know they’re not alone. Check me out on Apple Podcasts and many other platforms.


Work With Me:

Ready to start your healing journey?


Book a free 15-minute consultation: (http://linktr.ee/EmpoweringWellnessHub)


Listen to my DIVINE WOMAN Playlist (Apple & Spotify): Empowering songs for women healing through softness and strength - links are on the linktree link! 

Connect with me about this episode!

SPEAKER_01:

Welcome to The Awaken Heart, a podcast for healing women, a space where your voice matters, your body is sacred, and your journey home to yourself is honored, no matter how winding the road. I'm Audar Moran, licensed professional counselor, life coach, yoga instructor, but ultimately I am here today to be your companion on this divine path of healing. If you like what you hear, if you want to dive deeper into your healing, into your journey, into learning about yourself, I offer virtual sessions. Click on the link tree in the show notes to schedule a free 15-minute consultation to see if we're a good fit. But today, today we're diving into one of the most painful, complicated conversations a parent can have. No judgment. I am here as a parent who did her absolute best and still messed up. Still came up short in the parenting department. I hurt my children and they have come to me and told me my wrongs. I know what it's like to give your absolute all and still miss the mark, and how hard that feels to hear. And if you're listening to this, there's a good chance someone sent it to you. Maybe your adult child, maybe your teenager, maybe a friend who's watching you struggle. And if that's the case, you might already be feeling defensive. You might be thinking, this doesn't apply to me. I did everything I could. They just don't understand what I went through. I get it. I really do. And I'm asking you to stay with me anyway, because what I'm about, what I'm about to share isn't about judging what kind of parent you are or were. It's not about deciding who's right or wrong. It's about bridging a gap that's causing both you and your child pain. And I believe that gap can be bridged, but only if we're willing to sit in some uncomfortable truths together. So here is my promise to you. I am not here to villainize you. I'm not here to dismiss your struggles or your sacrifices. I'm here to help you understand what your child might be trying to tell you and how you can move forward in a way that honors both your experiences. I may not have the power in my life to experience my elders, my bio family honoring me and my experiences and making amends. But I do have the power to share what I know and hopefully help you and your child heal and grow. This episode is for parents who've heard feedback from their kids, young or grown, that they're doing something hurtful, that they did something hurtful. It's for parents who feel confused, angry, or devastated because they gave everything they had and it still wasn't enough. It's for parents who feel like their child owes them gratitude, not criticism. And if that's you, I see you. And I'm glad you're here. Let's dive in. Because I want to start by validating something that might feel impossible to say out loud right now. You're exhausted, you're hurt, and you're probably really, really angry. Maybe you worked two or three jobs to keep food on the table. Maybe you escaped your own abusive childhood and swore you'd never do to your kids what was done to you. And maybe you succeeded. Maybe you were a single parent doing the work of two people. Maybe you were dealing with mental illness, addiction, financial crisis, or your own trauma while trying to raise children. Maybe it was all that combined together. Maybe you kept them fed, clothed in house, and safe when that alone felt like climbing a mountain every single day. And now they're telling you it wasn't enough, or worse, that you hurt them. And that is devastating to hear. I know it is. You might be thinking, how dare they? Don't they know what I sacrificed? Don't they see how hard I tried? I went, I went without so they could have. I stayed in a bad marriage for them. I worked myself to the bone for them. And this is the things I get. Or maybe you're thinking, I had it so much worse than they did. I turned out fine. I had it so much worse than they did. They have nothing to complain about. They don't know what trauma is or what unloved is. They're being dramatic. They're being ungrateful. They're too sensitive. Or maybe I don't even remember it the way they're describing it. They're making things up. They're rewriting history to make me a villain. If any of these thoughts are running through your head right now, I want you to know those are normal reactions. When we feel accused or attacked, our brains go into protection mode. We defend, we justify, explain, compare. That's all human. But I want to tell you something, and I want you to stay with me on this. Your child's pain and your sacrifices can both be true at the same time. This isn't about who suffered more. It's not about who deserves to feel hurt. It's not a competition of trauma or a trial where someone gets to be right or someone gets to be wrong. When your child tells you about their pain, they're not erasing what you went through. They're not saying your struggles didn't matter. They're not even trying to prove you're a monster. They're simply asking you to see what they went through, and that's different. Being a good parent doesn't mean you never made mistakes. It doesn't mean you never cause pain. It means that when you learn you cause pain, even unintentionally, even while doing your best, you're willing to acknowledge it, to sit with it, and to do something different moving forward. And that's what this episode is about. Not about proving you're a bad parent, but about becoming a different kind of parent that you've been. The kind who can hold your child's pain without making it about your own. The kind who can say, I see you instead of, but I tried. And I know that this might feel impossible right now, but please stay with me throughout this episode. Please have an open mind. Please set your ego aside. It's not about you or your worth or how people see you or how many gold stars you get. This is simply about healing your relationship with your child, the one you birthed, the one you brought into this world, the one that is vulnerable, that had no choice. So let's talk about some truths that might be hard to hear, but are essential to understand if you want to repair your relationship with your child. I'm taking a sip of coffee. If you need a sip, a breath, a wiggle, a shake. Before we dive into these truths, go right ahead. All right, truth number one. They are still your child, no matter how old they are. Whether they're 15, 25, or 45, in your relationship with them, they are still your child. Now that doesn't mean they're childish. It doesn't mean that they're not capable adults. It means that the power dynamic that existed when they were small still echoes through your relationship. You are the adult who shaped their world. You are the one with the power, the resources, the knowledge. They needed you in a way you never needed them. You were their whole world, their source of safety, their model for what love looks like. That's not blame, that's not guilt. That's just the reality of being someone's parent. And because of that dynamic, even now, even if they're grown, they still need compassion, nurturing, and understanding from you. They don't need guilt trips, they don't need advice about how to handle their feelings better or how to do life. They don't need life lessons about how you had it worse. They don't need to be talked out of their experience. They need you to be the parent. And being the parent means you hold the bigger emotional burden always, even when it's hard, even when it feels unfair. Truth number two, your child is not an extension of you. This is huge, and I think this is where so many parents get stuck. Because your child is not here to validate your choices, they're not here to prove your worth as a parent or a person. They're not here to parade around as objects. They're not here to live out the dreams you couldn't achieve. And they're not here to make meaning of your sacrifices. They are a completely separate person. A person who will have different needs than you, different sensitivities, different experiences than you. Even if you've lived in the same house, went through the same events. And that difference is not a rejection of you. When your child says this hurts me, they're not saying you're a terrible person. They're saying I had a different experience than you intended. When they set boundaries, they're not punishing you. They're taking care of themselves. When they don't respond to situations the way you would, they're not being weak or dramatic. They're being themselves. I know it can feel personal. I know it can feel like they're saying everything you did was wrong. But what if they're just trying to tell you who they are? And what if your job now is to get curious about that person instead of defending why they should be different? Truth number three: your intentions don't erase their experience. This might be a hard one. So many parents say, but I never meant to hurt them. I was doing my best. I love them. I believe you. I really do. And that's that's that's great. But your child's pain is still real. Good intentions don't prevent harm. They just don't. You can love someone and still hurt them. You can sacrifice everything and still not give them what they needed. You can be doing your absolute best and still cause trauma. That's not because you're a bad person. It's because you're a human raising another human, and humans are complicated. And we all have limitations, and sometimes our best isn't what someone else needs. When your child says, You hurt me, the appropriate response is not, but I didn't mean to. The appropriate response is to say, tell me more about what that was like for you. Impact matters more than intention. If I step on your foot even accidentally, your foot still hurts. And the healing response isn't for me to say, but I didn't mean to, so you shouldn't be in pain. The response is to say, I'm so sorry I hurt you. Are you okay? The same is true in relationships. Truth number four, their trauma is not an attack on you. If your child expresses trauma, especially trauma they say you caused, your first instinct might be to defend yourself, to explain, to say, but I had it worse, I was doing my best, you don't know what I was dealing with. And all of that might be true, but none of it erases their experience. And here's what I want, and I need you to understand your child's trauma is not an attack on you. It's information about their internal world, it's a window into their pain, it's an invitation to see them more clearly. When you respond with defensiveness or comparison, I went through worse and I turned out fine. You're telling them their pain doesn't count. You're teaching them to distrust their own experience, and you're essentially saying your reality is less important than my comfort. And I know that's not what you may be needing to communicate, but that's what they hear. That's what's conveyed. You can feel hurt that they're hurting. You can grieve that your best wasn't what they needed. You can even feel angry that they don't see your struggle. Those are all valid feelings for you to have. But right now, in this moment, they need you to be the parent. And being the parent means holding space for their pain without making it about yours. And that doesn't mean you don't matter. It means they matter more in this specific moment because they're the child and you're the parent. And that's what the role requires. Truth number five, your feelings are valid and they're not your child's responsibility. I want to address a pattern I see often, and it's one of the most painful for both parent and child. When a child shares their hurt, and the parent immediately responds with their own pain. It could sound something like, How do you think I feel hearing this? What about my feelings? You're triggering right, triggering me right now. Do you see what you're doing to me? Do you know how hard this is for me? And I want to name this gently because I know where it comes from. I know you're hurting too. Hearing your child's pain activates your own. Maybe it brings up shame or grief or your own unhealed wounds. That's real. And I see that. I see you. I acknowledge that. And when your child is vulnerable enough to share their pain, that moment needs to remain about them, not about you. Here's what happens when you center your feelings in that moment. Your child learns that their honesty causes you pain. They learn that being vulnerable means they have to take care of you. They learn that your feelings are more important than theirs, which might be exactly the dynamic they're trying to tell you about. It's not that your feelings don't matter, because they do, but there's a time and a place to process them. And that place is with your therapist, with your friends, with your support system, not with your child, especially not with your child, young or old, while they're asking you to see their hurt.

SPEAKER_00:

When you say, you're triggering me, because I hear this often. When you talk about your childhood, it triggers my trauma.

SPEAKER_01:

I can't handle this conversation. I believe you. Hearing your child's pain might activate your nervous system. You might feel flooded, defensive, overwhelmed. And that's a real physiological response. And it's yours to manage. You're the parent. If hearing about your child's experience is triggering you, that's information about your own healing work that still needs to happen. It's not a reason to shut down the conversation or silence yourself, stonewall your children, shut down, go quiet. And it's not the time and it's not the reason to make your child responsible for your regulation. If you're too overwhelmed in the moment, you can say, I'm noticing I'm getting overwhelmed and I want to be able to really hear you. Can we call, pause, and come back to this tomorrow? I promise we will continue this conversation. What you're sharing is important. And then you actually do your work. You journal, you call your therapist, you regulate your nervous system, and you come back to the conversation open and ready to help your child. You don't use your activation as a permanent escape hatch for accountability. This is your work to do. If you experience trauma, and most of us have, that pain is real and it deserves healing. Because I'm genuinely sorry for what you went through. But it's your responsibility to address it. Not because you're bad if you don't, but because unhealed wounds affect how you show up as a parent. They affect how you hear your child. They affect what you can hold without getting defensive. They affect the way you love and get close to your child or keep them at a distance. And if therapy is out of reach financially, logistically, emotionally, I know the idea of facing old wounds can feel terrifying. I know you're already exhausted. And your children need you to do it anyway. Not perfectly, not all at once, but consistently with commitment, because that's what it means to be a parent. That's what love is. You don't have to be perfect, just honest. Some parents get so attached to the eye to the idea that they did everything right, that they're better than their own parents, that they have nothing to apologize for, that they can't be honest with themselves about their limitations. And that's fear talking. Fear of being seen as a failure, fear of being like the parent you swore you'd never become. Fear that if you admit mistakes, it means you're a bad person. But here is the truth. Nobody's asking you to be perfect. Your child is asking you to be honest. Honest about what happened to you, honest about what you're still carrying, honest about the ways your unhealed wounds might have overflowed onto them. That honesty, that willingness to look at yourself clearly without the armor of defensiveness or ego is what creates the possibility of real connection. When your child shares pain, notice your own activation. Maybe it's something like I feel defensive right now. Then take a nice deep breath. A big belly breath where your belly rises and your exhale is longer than your inhale. This will help you regulate your nervous system. Remember your role. I'm the parent. This moment is about them. Respond to their experience first. Tell me more about that. And process your feelings later with your own support system. When you realize you need healing, seek therapy even if it's hard to find or afford. There's group therapies that are a little cheaper if insurance isn't covering regular individual therapy. There are sources, resources, find support groups. Read books on trauma and healing. I mean, if you want to start somewhere, it could open it up, but parents of emotionally, kids of emotionally immature parents, children of emotionally immature parents, my mind's going blank. Good book. Learn about your attachment style. Practice self-regulating techniques. Learn what the fuck that is. Watch some YouTube videos. Read a book. Do the work consistently, not just when it's in when it's convenient for you, not when you're trying to get something from your child, get them to agree to do something. This isn't about being perfect. I've said this several times and I mean it. It's about being willing to grow. You have to be honest with yourself. It's about caring more about your child's well-being than about protecting your ego or your narrative about yourself. And that's hard work, but it's work. And this is just a sidestep, I want to say those were the truths. And this is another truth, but I want to give it a little bit more detail. Your child is not is allowed to not like people, even family. Here's something that I think is really hard for a lot of parents to accept. Your child is allowed to not like someone. They're allowed to feel uncomfortable around someone. They're allowed to say, I don't want to be around that person. And that includes family members. It doesn't matter if they're siblings, their aunt, their uncle, cousins, grandparent. It doesn't matter if it's someone you love. It doesn't matter if they're family or if they didn't mean anything by it. If your child says they don't feel safe or comfortable around someone, that needs to be enough. You don't need to understand it. You don't need to agree with it. You don't need them to give you a detailed exclamation, explanation that meets your standards of good enough reason. When your child tells you they're uncomfortable, they're giving you information about their internal safety signals. And your job as a parent is to protect them. Not to protect the adult's feelings, not to keep the family peace, not to avoid awkwardness at holidays. If your child tells you something happened, whether it's something that made them uncomfortable, scared them, or something that crossed a line, believe them first, investigate thoroughly, and do not automatically take the adult's side. I cannot stress this enough. When you immediately defend the adult, when you say, oh, they didn't mean it like that, or you're being too sensitive, or that's just how they are, you're teaching your child that their safety matters less than some adult's comfort. You're teaching them not to tell you things. You're teaching them to override their own instincts of what they'll say for them. And you're teaching them that when someone hurts them, they're the problem for having feelings about it. Instead, I want you to investigate, ask questions, be curious, talk to your child in a calm, open way. Tell me more about what happened. How did that make you feel? What did you need in that moment that you didn't get? And if something bad happened, if someone hurt your child, if someone violated their boundaries, if someone crossed the line, your loyalty is to your child, period. Not to your sibling who would never do something like that, not to your parent who has been through so much already, not the family unity are for keeping the peace, and definitely not for a partner that is not good. Your loyalty is to your child always. Often without that person ever apologizing, changing their behavior, or even taking accountability. That's not forgiveness, that's erasure. That's teaching your child that relationship is more important than safety, that peace is more important than truth, that their plan is an inconvenience that needs to be managed so everyone else can feel comfortable. I'm taking a sip. Here's what you need to understand forgiveness is not owed. Relationship is not required. And your child is allowed to protect themselves, even if that means cutting off people you love. If your child doesn't want a relationship with their sibling, you don't get to force it. You don't get to guilt them about it. You don't get to make them the bad guy for having boundaries. If someone hurt your child and never apologized, never changed, never took responsibility, your child is right to keep their distance. That's not holding a grudge, that's not immature, that's not dramatic or sensitive, that's self-protection. Your job is not to fix the relationship. Your job is to honor your child's boundaries and let them decide what feels safe. Let's talk about a pattern I see often. And sometimes something bad happens, there's conflict and there's hurt, there's tension, and then what? Nothing. The parent ignores it, shuts down, goes silent, doesn't bring it up, waits for time to pass, then comes back acting like nothing happened. Maybe makes a joke, maybe just starts interacting normally, assumes that because time has passed, everything is fine now. Let me be really clear. That is stonewalling. Stonewalling is one of the killers of relationships. Stonewalling is not a conflict resolution strategy. Silence is not an apology. Time does not erase harm. When you ignore what happened, when you sleep it off and expect your child to just move on because you're ready to move on, you're teaching them that their feelings don't matter. That conflicts get resolved by pretending it didn't happen. That you can hurt someone and face no consequences as long as you wait long enough. That's not healing. That's toxicity. That's avoidance. That's dysfunction. Real repair requires you to be uncomfortable. It requires you to acknowledge what happened. It requires you to sit in the discomfort of hearing how your child felt. It requires you to take responsibility for your part. It requires you to ask what they need. And then it requires you to make changes moving forward. You don't get to skip the hard conversations. You don't get to avoid the feelings. You don't get to wait it out and hope they forget. If your child feels unsafe, they are unsafe. Their feeling is the information. You don't get to talk them out of it or dismiss it because you don't see the threat. Your job is to make it safe. And that starts with believing them, protecting them, and doing the uncomfortable work of actually addressing what happened.

SPEAKER_00:

This applies even especially with sibling relationships. I want to talk a little bit about sibling dynamics because sometimes it can mess parents up.

SPEAKER_01:

If one of your children hurt one of the other children, you don't get to minimize it because siblings fight. You don't get to force them to hug and make it up. You don't get to tell your child to get over it. You don't get to blame your hurt child for being too sensitive. You don't get to pressure them to forgive without the other sibling taking accountability. You also don't get to punish the hurt child for setting boundaries with their sibling. Or any family member. If your adult children don't have a relationship because one hurt the other, you don't get to make the hurt child feel guilty for breaking up the family. You can't force them to attend events together. You can't force them to reconcile for your sake. And please don't act like they're equally responsible for the estrangement. It's not equal. Someone hurt the other and they're not changing and not taking responsibility. That conversation needs to be had with the child that's hurting the other child. What are they going through? What is going on? How can you mend that bridge? Stop protecting the person who caused harm at the expense of the person who has harmed. This statement right here makes me want to get on a box, turn into the biggest beautiful dragon, and just fly around burning fire down on every person that protects the one who causes harm. I don't care if it's family. I don't care if it's tradition. If they are causing harm to your child, it is your job to blow that shit up and make it right. And if you're part of that, you're part of that. You need to fix it. They get to decide if and when they're ready for a relationship. They get to decide what boundaries they need. And your job is to respect that, even when it's inconvenient, even when it hurts, and even if holidays and special events are awkward, because your child's safety, physical or emotional, is always more important than your comfort.

SPEAKER_00:

Okay. So we've talked about some big concepts.

SPEAKER_01:

Now I want to get a little practical. What does it actually look like to respond differently when your child expresses pain or hurt? I want to talk about some real-time examples of common defensive responses. And then I want to give you an alternative response that creates connection instead of distance. So first off, I hear this often. I hear it all the time. I mean, it's probably true. I feel I did my best, but it wasn't enough. You probably did do your best with what you had. But when your child is sharing their pain, this response shuts them down. It centers your experience instead of theirs. It asks them to comfort you about your limitations instead of you comforting them about their pain. Instead, I'd like you to try.

SPEAKER_00:

I hear you. Tell me more about what that was like for you. This response stays focused on them.

SPEAKER_01:

It shows curiosity instead of defensiveness. It says, your experience matters to me, even if it's hard for me to hear. How about you have no idea what I went through? Again, this might be true. You're probably, your child probably doesn't know the full extent of what you were dealing with. But this response is asking them to consider your pain before you've acknowledged theirs. Instead, I'd like you to try. You're right that you experience pain. That matters regardless of what I was going through. This response validates their experience without denying yours. It doesn't require them to prove their pain is bad enough to count. It just acknowledges, yes, you hurt, and that's important. Another example. Pain is not a competition. Trauma doesn't work that way. Instead, try to say your pain is valid. It doesn't have to be the worst pain to count. This response gives them permission to feel what they feel without justifying it or comparing it. It says, your experience is enough just as it is. Example, another example I have, I don't remember it that way. And this one's tricky because you genuinely don't remember things the way your child does. Maybe your memory is different, maybe you've blocked things out, maybe you were so overwhelmed at the time that you literally didn't process what they experienced. But when you lead with this, you're centering your memory over their experience. You're asking them to prove their reality is real. Instead, try to say, I believe that's how you experienced it, and that's what matters here. Tell me more about it. The response doesn't require you to have the same memory. It just validates that their experience was real for them, and that's enough to move forward with repair. Another example. So remove the sorry. Just I said this long ago. This response suggests that pain has an expiration date, that after a certain amount of time, they should just be over it. But trauma doesn't work on a timeline. Sometimes people need years to process what happened to them. Sometimes they need distance and safety before they can even acknowledge their pain. So instead of saying, Why are you bringing this up now? try to say, I'm glad you feel safe enough to tell me this. I'm listening. And fucking listen. This response honors their courage in speaking up. It doesn't punish them for their timing. It creates space for them to share what they need to share. And last example. Instead, I want you to say, I hear that you're still hurting. What do you need from me to help you heal? This response acknowledges that saying sorry is just the start and that repair takes time, and that your child gets to decide what they need for healing, not you. Do you see the pattern in these alternative responses? They all do the same thing. First off, they validate the child's experience without requiring proof. Secondly, they stay curious. Your responses are curious instead of defensive. That is a key to being a parent. Be curious, not defensive, not life learning lessons, not trying to teach someone or control someone. Be fucking curious. And then they invite connection instead of shutting down the conversation. And I know what some of you might be thinking, what about me? What about my feelings? What about the fact that I was hurt too, that I tried really hard? All of this is valid. But there's a time and a place to process them. And that time is not when your child is vulnerable and asking you to see their pain. That time is in therapy, with a friend, with your own support system, not with your child. Because remember, you're the parent. And even if they're 40 years old in that dynamic, you hold the bigger burden. That's what you signed up for when you became a parent. Maybe not consciously, but hey, them's the breaks. That's your role. Take it seriously. Change. Learn to do better, be better. So we've talked about what not to do. Now let's talk about what good parenting actually looks like, whether your kids are five or fifty. Good parenting today means curiosity over correction. When your child shares something with you, a feeling, an experience, a struggle, your first instinct might be to fix it, to give advice, to tell them what they should do differently. But what they usually need is just to be heard. So instead of immediately jumping to solutions, trying asking questions. What was that like for you? How did that make you feel? What do you need from me right now? Get curious about who they are. Get curious about what they're experiencing and how they see the world. You don't have to agree with them. You just have to be interested in understanding them. Good parenting today means compassion over comparison. Their struggles don't have to be worse than yours to deserve empathy. Pain is not a competition. Trauma is not a hierarchy. When your child is hurting, they don't need to hear about how you had it worse. They need to hear that their pain matters full stop. You can hold two truths at once. You had a hard life and your child had a hard experience. Both can be true, both can matter. Good parenting today means reflection over reaction. When your child says you hurt them, pause, take a breath, get curious about your impact, even if your intention was good. Ask yourself, what am I feeling right now? Defensive, angry, scared, ashamed? Why am I feeling this way? Because I'm afraid I'm a bad parent? Because I feel attacked? Because I can't bear to think I hurt my children? Like I'm better than that. And maybe ask yourself, what does my child need from me in this moment? Probably not a defense of my choices. Probably acknowledgement, probably validation. Most people just want to be heard, supported, loved, validated.

SPEAKER_00:

Pause before you react.

SPEAKER_01:

Pausing can change everything. Good parenting today means boundaries without punishment. If your child needs space from you, that's not them rejecting you. It's them taking care of themselves. And as the parent, your job is to respect that boundary even when it hurts. You don't have to like it. You don't have to think it's fair, but you do have to honor it. Because when you punish your child for setting a boundary by guilt tripping them, by withdrawing love, by going silent, by making them responsible for your emotional well-being, for making them responsible for ruining the holidays, for making someone feel bad, you teach them that their needs don't matter as much as your comfort. And that's exactly the dynamic they're probably trying to heal from. Good parenting today means accountability without shame. Here's a radical idea I want you to say. I'm sorry I hurt you. Saying I'm sorry I hurt you doesn't mean you're a monster. It just means you're human and you care about repair. You can take accountability for your impact without it defining your entire identity. You can say I made mistakes without it meaning I'm a bad person. Accountability sounds like, I'm sorry I hurt you. I can see how my actions affected you even though that wasn't my intention. You deserve better from me in that moment. I'm working on doing better going forward. Shame sounds like I'm the worst parent ever. I ruined your life. Everything's my fault. I should have never had kids. You don't know what it's like. One takes responsibility, the other is making yourself the victim. Your child doesn't need your shame. They need your accountability because it's not their job to make you feel better. It's your job to make them feel better, no matter the age. Good parenting today means showing up even when it's hard. There will be conversations that are excruciating. There will be moments when you want to shut down, defend, and run away. There will be times when you feel like you're being attacked, like nothing you did was ever good enough, like your child hates you. Show up anyway. Stay in the room, stay in the conversation, stay in the relationship. Not because you have to agree with everything they're saying, not because you have to take responsibility for things that weren't your fault, but because they're your child and they need you to be able to hold their pain without falling apart or making it about you. That's what love actually is. Not the warm and fuzzy feelings, but the willingness to stay present in discomfort because someone you love needs you to. This is not something we experienced. Maybe our parents never gave this to us. But this is real love. If you did not have this example, take this definition, take this example of love and make it part of your love, a part of how you love. All right, let's get a little practical. What are the actual steps you can take starting today to move forward to repair with your child? Number one, do your own emotional work. This is this is a reason that this is first for a reason. You cannot show up for your child's pain if you haven't done the work to process your own. Get a ferret therapist, find a support group, find a group, group therapy group, journal, do some somatic therapy or whatever modality resonates with you, but do the work to heal from your own childhood, from your own trauma, from your own unmet needs. Please stop pretending that none of that applies to you. Stop lying to yourself. Because here's the hard truth. When your child's pain triggers defensiveness in you, it is usually because it's touching something unhealed in you. Maybe it's reminding you of your own unmet needs as a child. Maybe it's activating your shame about not being enough. Maybe it's bringing up your terror that you're actually just like the parent you swore you'd never become. And that is your work to do, not your job, your child's job to manage. I don't care how old they are. Action step number two: learn about trauma and nervous system responses. Educate yourself about how trauma works, about how the brain processes threat, about how the nervous system responds to stress and how that shows up in your behavior. There are several episodes on my podcast page that you can learn about trauma, you can learn about neurodivergence, you can learn some stuff. And if you don't get it from me, search it in, listen to another podcast, read a book. The more you understand about how trauma impacts people, the less you'll take your child's responses personally. You'll start to see their behavior as information about their internal state, not as an attack on you. Action step number three, practice reflective listening. This is a skill you can build. When your child is talking to you, practice just listening without planning your response, without defending, without explaining, without waiting for your turn to talk. Try this. Listen to what they're saying without interrupting. Then I want you to reflect back what you heard. What I'm hearing is that you felt X when Y happened. Is that right? Then I want you to validate their experience. That makes sense that you felt that way. And then I want you to ask them what they need. What would be helpful for you from me right now? Listen, reflect, validate, and ask. I promise you it's going to feel awkward at first. It's going to feel unnatural. Do it anyway. It gets easier with practice. Action step number four. Apologize. Really apologize. A real apology has four components: acknowledgement of what you did, recognition of the impact, taking responsibility, and committing to change. I yelled at you when you were trying to tell me something important that probably made you feel like your feelings didn't matter, that wasn't okay, and I'm sorry. I'm working on managing my reactions better so I can hear you without getting defensive. There was acknowledgement, recognition, responsibility taking, and a commitment to change. I want you to notice what's not in there. I'm sorry you felt that way. That's not an apology, that's a dismissal. I'm sorry, but anything after but negates the apology. I'm sorry if I hurt you. There's no if they told you they're hurt. Action step number five. Ask how you can make repair. After you apologize, ask what do you need for me to help repair this? And then listen to their answer, even if it's hard, even if it feels like too much, even if you don't think you can give them what they're asking for. Because you don't have to say yes to everything, but you do have to actually consider it. And if you can't meet their need, you can say, I need, I hear that you need X. I'm not able to do that right now, but what I can offer is Y. Would that help? It's not about control. It's not about circumventing responsibility. It's about being real with your capacity and working toward giving them what they need. Action step number six. This is key. Be consistent over time. Because one conversation doesn't fix everything. One apology doesn't erase years of pain. Repair is a process, not an event. Show up consistently, keep doing the work, keep checking in, keep practicing new responses, keep choosing connection over defensiveness. When I say keep doing the work, I want you to know it's a hard path. But life is hard. So choose your hard. Do you want to go through a healing path that's hard and heavy and difficult to get to the other side of freedom in your relationship with your child to feel happy, content, and at peace with being a parent with yourself and your child being good too? Or do you want to continue this silly path that you're on that just can't quite get it and it's just hard? You have a difficult relationship with your child, things are awkward, things are uncomfortable. I mean, choose your heart. Do the fucking work. It's gonna be hard. But you got to do it if you love yourself and your children. Like, otherwise, what are we doing? Your child needs to see that this isn't performative, that you're not just saying what they want you to hear, what they want to hear to make their discomfort go away. They want to see that you're actually committed to being a different parent. And that takes time. Be patient with the process, be patient with yourself, and be patient with your child. And action step number seven: respect their timeline. Your child gets to decide when and how to re-engage with you. They get to decide how much contact feels safe. And they get to decide if and when they forgive you. You don't get to rush them, you don't get to pressure them, you don't get to guilt them into reconciliation before they're ready. Your job is to do your work, show up when they're willing to engage and respect their boundaries when they're not, even if it takes years, even if it never looks the way you hoped, even if it hurts. Like I said, this is hard work. It's some of the hardest emotional work you'll ever do. So you need to take care of yourself through it. When I talk about self-care, I'm not talking about a bubble bath and calling it good. I'm talking about actually resourcing yourself so you can stay in the discomfort without falling apart. Get some support. You need people in your life who can hold your pain so you don't dump it on your child. A therapist, a support group, a trusted friend who gets it. You want people who can validate your feelings while also helping you stay accountable. I'm not encouraging you to seek out an echo chamber of dysfunction. Find a therapist that holds you accountable. I find that learning about attachment styles can be a good place to start in your healing journey. Take a quiz, learn about it, process, and then start healing. Manage your nervous system. This work, excuse me, this work will activate you. Your body will go into fight, flight, or freeze. Learn tools to regulate deep breathing, grounding exercises, movements, somatic practices. When you're activated, you can't show up well. So learn how to calm your nervous system down. Learn how to regulate your nervous system. Grieve what you're losing. You might be losing the narrative you had about yourself as a parent. You might be losing the fantasy of the relationship you wished you had with your child. You might be losing your sense that you did everything right. That's real loss. Grieve it. Don't bypass it. And also celebrate the small wins. Did you pause before reacting? Did you listen without defending? Did you validate their feelings even though it was hard? That's growth. Acknowledge it. It matters. Keep doing it. And be gentle with yourself. You're going to mess up. You're going to slip back into old patterns. You're going to have days where you can't hold the space, and all that's okay because this is a practice, not a performance. Keep showing up. Keep trying. Taking care of yourself isn't selfish. It is necessary because, like they always say, you can't pour from an empty cup. And if you're wounded and unhealed and defensive, emotionally unavailable, not able to talk about hard things, shut things down when it gets uncomfortable, it's a sign you're pouring from an empty cup. You can't hold your child's pain if you're drowning in your own, my dear. So resource yourself, rest when you need to, get help, talk to someone outside of your children and keep doing the work. If your child is willing to engage with you, and that's a big gift, so honor it if they're not, if they're not ready. But here are some things that you can do toward repair. Have a structured conversation. Don't just wing it. Plan specific times to talk about hard things. Use a format. Each person gets uninterrupted time to share, five to ten minutes. The other person reflects back what they heard before responding. And focus on one issue at a time, not the entire history of your relationship. Write letters. Sometimes it's easier to express things in writing. Write about your experiences, your needs, your hopes for the relationship. Your writing is not descendant, you're writing it so you can clarify what you're really feeling. Hear me on this one. Try family therapy. A good therapist can help mediate conversations, keeping you both accountable and teaching you communication skills that neither one of you may have never gotten to see or witness or know existed. Look for someone who specializes in family dynamics and trauma. Family therapy can be a huge moment in healing because you and your child can get the tools in real time instead of going in the same dysfunctional circles. Create new experiences together. Repair isn't just about talking about the past. It's also about creating new positive experiences that rewire the relationship. Do something together that feels safe and low stakes, a walk, a meal, an activity you both enjoy. And establish agreements. What do you both need to feel safe in this process? Maybe your child needs you to not bring up certain topics unless they initiate it. Maybe you need them to give you grace when you make mistakes. Talk about it. Get specific. Check in regularly. Don't have one big conversation, then never talk about it again. Make space for ongoing check-ins. How are you feeling about our relationship right now? Is there anything you need for me? These don't have to be intense. They can be brief, but they create a pattern of openness and ongoing repair. All right, we're coming to the end. Let's bring this on. If you made it this far in this episode, I want you to acknowledge how hard this probably was to hear. Some of this might have felt like a huge gut punch. Some of it might have made you angry. Some of it might have brought up grief or shame or fear. And some of them made you want to maybe want to shut down and do something else. All that's okay. Those are all normal responses. I want you to sit with them and not push them away. This might be the hardest work you ever do. Hearing your child's pain, sitting with your own limitations, accepting that love wasn't always enough, acknowledging that your best caused harm. That's devastating. I know it is. You instead of, but I tried. The kind who knows that being the parent means you hold the bigger burden and you do it anyway because that's what love actually is. Not the fuzzy feelings, not the gratitude you hope for, not the validation that you're good enough. Love is staying in the room when everything in you wants to run. Love is holding your child's pain even when it activates your own. Love is saying, I'm sorry, when you'd rather defend. Love is doing better even when no one is watching, even when your child might never acknowledge it. That's the work. And it's fucking worth it. Because on the other side of this, if you're willing to do the work, if you're willing to stay humble, if you're willing to keep showing up, there's a relationship with your child that's based on truth instead of performance, on connection instead of obligation, on who you both actually are instead of who you wished you'd be. And that is worth fighting for. So if you're hearing your child say, You hurt me, even if every part of you wants to defend, explain, or minimize, I'm asking you to try something different. Say, tell me more. Say I'm listening, say I'm sorry, and fucking mean it. That's where the healing begins. Heavy. I don't know what you're thinking right now. I know this might be a lot. But real talk from parent to parent. We brought these beings into the world. We created them. Whether we knew what we were doing before we did it, whether we were just going through the emotions because that's what people do. Or whether we actively consciously chose the child, whatever the, whatever the reason. The reality is that the child is the vulnerable party, no matter how old they are. And we as parents will always be the parent, and our jobs don't end when they're 18. Sometimes it gets a little harder post-18. When they're post-18, they need so much support, so much love and compassion and understanding and wisdom. They're not grown-ups, their brains not even developed. Stop treating them like they're adults. Stop doing what our elders did to us and just throwing us in the wind.

SPEAKER_00:

Do better, be better. Thank you for being here. Thank you for being willing to listen.

SPEAKER_01:

Thank you for considering that there might be another way forward. You totally got this. And your child is so worth it. Your children are so worth it. I'd love to hear from you. Message me, comment, or follow. I offer virtual sessions, whether you're healing from trauma, navigating a big life shift, or wanting to learn more on how to accommodate yourself rather than push through. I hold space for women just like you every day of the week. If that's something you're curious about, you can fill out a consultation form via my link tree, along with a beautiful playlist on Spotify. Apple playlist is coming soon. Made for women, healing through softness and strength. It is a badass playlist of good things to hear. All right, parents, you're never too much or too late, and you don't have to figure it out all alone. Until next time, may you be happy and free. May mine and your healing ripple hour to bless the world with happiness and freedom. Take care of you, and I'll see you soon.

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Autumn Moran

Host