Brazil Bruised Parents and the Quest for Perfect Parenting

“The greatest gift you can give your children is your own healing,” says Dr. Shefali Tsabary.

Am I doing too much or not enough? Am I messing up my child? Am I being too hard on my child? Am I being too soft? Am I spending enough time with my child? Do I help too much? Should I help more?

Is my son going to be taken advantage of because he talks about his feelings? Is my daughter going to be considered too bossy because she has boundaries? Should I be doing more as a parent? Or less?

These are the questions that flood the minds of parents who had childhood trauma and are trying to heal while raising children. The main goal is simple: not to do to our children what was done to us.

One parent recalls that was her goal before having her son. She told herself she would not have a baby until she had healed enough to not repeat the trauma she experienced growing up. Many people in this situation think that will not be too hard.

There was no way she was going to dismiss her son’s feelings. She was going to be emotionally and physically present. No matter what he went through, she would be compassionate, nurturing, and unconditionally loving.

That is what children need and deserve. It is what she needed and deserved too.

But then the questions started. The doubt. The constant second-guessing. That voice that quietly asks if you are doing it wrong. She calls that Not Good Enough Stuff.

No matter how many loving things she did, that voice still showed up.

Am I talking about feelings too much? Should I let him handle things with friends on his own? When he is upset and says he needs space, do I leave or stay close?

When I think a teacher is being unfair, do I step in or let it go? If I know he needs help, do I wait for him to ask, or do I offer it?

It is exhausting trying to get it right all the time. When she really sits with it, she notices two core fears underneath everything.

The first is this: Am I giving my son too much affection?

She always asks him if he wants a hug before giving one. The other day, he was upset about something that happened at school. She sat next to him and asked, “Do you want a hug?”

He did not even look at her. “No.”

She paused, unsure what to do next. Every part of her wanted to pull him in anyway, to comfort him in the way she always needed but did not get.

Instead, she asked, “Do you want me to sit with you or give you space?”

“Just sit there.”

So, she did. She sat next to him in silence, fighting the urge to fix it, to say something, to do more, and her mind got loud.

Am I doing enough? Am I doing too much? Am I getting this wrong?

That moment hits something deeper because affection and comfort were not things she received consistently as a child. For a long time, she thought that was normal.

That belief started to shift the first time she spent the night at her friend Molly’s house. Before bed, Molly’s mom hugged her.

She remembers thinking it was one of the best feelings she had ever experienced. It felt safe, warm, and easy. She wanted more of that.

So, the next night, she told her mom what happened. She asked if she would start hugging her at bedtime, too. That did not go well.

Her mom got triggered and angry. She told her that if she wanted a mom like Molly’s, she could go live with her.

She is not sharing that to shame her mom. Her mom did not receive affection or nurturing either. She does not think her mom knew how to give something she never had.

But as a child, she did not understand that. What she learned instead was that her needs were too much.

Those beliefs do not just disappear when we grow up. They follow us into adulthood, into relationships, into parenting.

So now, when her son says no to a hug, it does not just feel like a simple preference. It brushes up against something old. And that is where Not Good Enough Stuff gets louder.

The second fear underneath all of this is quieter, but just as powerful: Am I pushing him too much to talk about his feelings? Am I setting him up to be seen as weak?

Why do we do this to ourselves? Like so many things, it goes back to childhood. We had emotional needs that were not met, and now we are trying to make sure our children do not experience that same emptiness. That is a beautiful thing.

But there is one major problem. We were never shown how to do this. It is like trying to get somewhere without a map.

A couple of years ago, her family moved from Mississippi to the mountains of Southern Oregon. Imagine making that drive with no directions, no GPS, and no one to guide you.

Would you get there eventually? Probably. Would you take wrong turns, get lost, and feel frustrated along the way? Absolutely. That is what this feels like.

We know the kind of parents we want to be. We just do not have a clear path for how to get there. So, we make mistakes, and then we turn on ourselves for making them.

We try so hard to give our kids what we did not have that we start to question if we are overcorrecting. But here is something that grounds her when that voice gets loud.

We often think we need to give our kids more. More activities. More opportunities. More things.

But she has seen children who had very little financially, whose emotional needs were met, and they were okay, more than okay. They were more emotionally healthy than most kids.

She has also known what it feels like to have things but not have the affection, comfort, and nurturing that actually mattered. She would have given up a lot of what she had just to feel safe, seen, and loved. That reminder brings her back to what actually matters.

Not perfection. Connection.

Of course, we are going to make mistakes. That is unavoidable. And yes, in some ways, we will get it wrong. But here is what makes the difference.

You are doing things your parents did not do. You reflect. You question. You care. You are willing to change.

You are working on your own healing while raising your child. That matters more than getting everything right.

If I had to bet, I would say you are also doing something meaningful that your child will carry with them for the rest of their life.

Maybe you apologize when you mess up. Maybe you listen instead of dismissing. Maybe you try again the next day. Those things are not small.

She loses her temper sometimes with her son. In those moments, she hears echoes of how she was raised, and sometimes she repeats things she heard as a child that were harmful.

But she also notices it. Sometimes right after, sometimes in the moment. That awareness allows her to repair, and repair matters more than perfection ever will.

When we repair with our children, we teach them that mistakes are okay. We teach them how to take responsibility, how to reconnect, and how to build healthy relationships.

That is something many of us were never taught, and it changes everything. So, when you start questioning yourself again, take a step back.

Remember that you are doing something incredibly hard. You are parenting in a way you were never parented. You are learning as you go. You are choosing something different. That matters more than doing it perfectly ever could. You deserve compassion.

You always did. And now, you get to give some of that compassion to yourself.