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Have you ever felt guilty because you're not entertaining your child and providing them with unlimited activities to keep them happy and engaged? Ever feel terrible for not leaving your schedule wide open on the off chance they might want to hang out with you? Do you feel like a neglectful parent for having your own needs, which may mean not being able to fulfill theirs? Do you worry that your child will end up feeling abandoned and unloved, not a priority in your life?
If so, you’re not alone. So many women talk the talk of setting boundaries with kids, but struggle to walk the walk, say no, and dare to disappoint them. We twist ourselves into pretzels, make ourselves uncomfortable and sometimes sick; we deny ourselves our basic needs, in an effort to give our kids what they want, and to be good moms whose kids feel loved.
Sacrificing and trying to give our kids what they want is a necessary part of good parenting. And yet, in an effort to please and never disappoint, to never not be superhuman, we end up overwhelmed, exhausted, and sometimes even resentful—not our best or theirs. We get angry at our kids, for making us do something that's past our limits, like take them to buy cleats for the game we just found out is tomorrow, when we have a meeting at work right now. We end up irritated at them that we had to do what we couldn’t do, and angry at ourselves for not setting a boundary or admitting what was just too much. We end up frustrated that we didn’t acknowledge our limits and admit that we can’t be two places at once, that we only have so much energy, and that reality sometimes doesn’t line up with what we want.
We want our kids to be happy; we don't want to let them down. It's painful to not be able to give them everything they want. This is the beautiful intention that drives our dysfunctional response. Instead of being honest, we rant at our kids or at the situation, which then makes our kids feel guilty and responsible for our anxiety—and ashamed and sorry for having asked us at all. Our kids then take the blame for our inability to say no and are sometimes reluctant to ask for what they want in the future. The end result: In trying to make everyone happy, we make no one happy, and no one gets what they want or need.
Instead of owning and acknowledging the challenges (and pain), we get caught in a murky, twisted mess of inadequacy and unexpressed love. Sometimes, it's best to simply be straightforward: "I so want to be able to do this for you, and I know it's going to be hard to ask your coach to play in sneakers not cleats tomorrow, but it's not possible for me to be in two places at once. We're going to have to find a different solution." This is boots-on-the-ground practice of being loving parents to our kids—and ourselves.
It’s important to show our kids that their parents are humans, not action heroes who can magically make reality whatever they want it to be. When we acknowledge that we’re not cartoon-cutout "parents," but just humans who love their kids and also have limits, we lay the groundwork for an authentic and satisfying relationship. Simultaneously, we need to admit to our kids that we sometimes need things for ourselves, things that are not about them, like working, being alone, spending time with our partner, or visiting with grown-up friends. We need to teach our kids that no matter how much we love them, we also have a responsibility to take care of ourselves, as selves that exist separate from them. This will set them up for healthy relationships with their own kids, other people, and themselves.
In admitting that we have wants and needs beyond parenting, we prepare our kids to live in reality, not a fantasy world in which they believe they're the center of everyone else's universe. It helps our kids build relationships with others, and encourages an attitude toward the world as a village. Of course we want to make our kids’ lives as perfect as possible, and protect them from the harshness of life; this is a lovely desire. Beyond creating a perfect life for them is the harder part of our job: to show our kids how to be okay when life is imperfect and shows up in shapes and sizes they don’t want.
Our kids need to learn that not getting what they want is also a normal part of life, that they are not different from other people, and that they are not missing out or being punished when life presents challenges. To know that obstacles are part of everyone's life teaches kids to be resilient and prepared—for life. Kids who aren’t taught this, whose every moment has been curated and protected, leave home and are often overwhelmed and shattered by what they discover—that in the real world life is not perfect and not curated. As a result, they are utterly unprepared, which is not their fault; we have denied them the right to practice the skills of flexibility, adjustment, and living with discomfort. Kids raised this way are also, often, unprepared to put in the hard work associated with making life what they want it to be, because so much was done for them, which doesn’t serve their sense of agency and resiience.
We're also modeling another critical skill—namely, that we can survive challenging circumstances, tolerate frustration and discomfort, adjust, pivot, and still be OK. Simultaneously, we demonstrate that it’s OK to be sad, frustrated, angry, or whatever else they feel when what's wanted is not possible. We teach our kids that the feelings are natural and part of the experience, not something they need to hide or avoid. We can feel the feelings, survive, move on, and be OK—and maybe even be stronger for it. So, too, we can’t know what will come from not getting what we want, and sometimes something unexpected and even good grows out of challenge; we build character, even if we can’t see that now.
This is a skill many adults need to learn, to be OK with not OK, and not rely entirely on things going our way to enjoy and appreciate our lives. To see discomfort as an opportunity to develop resilience and, paradoxically, gratitude—encouraging us to be more thankful for what we do get and have, rather than focusing only on what we don’t get. We model all of these wonderfully useful and delicious life skills when we show our kids that we (and they) can be OK when things don’t go our way.
