Actually, I'm not fine… blog

Part 9: Raising a Child in a World of Broken Lessons

Parenting is both a privilege and a responsibility, but it’s also a mirror. When you look at your child, you see not only who they are, but who you once were, the lessons you were taught, and the mistakes you hope never to repeat. For me, raising my child has been an exercise in reflection, accountability, and relentless determination to break cycles I inherited.

I carry my own trauma, yes- the abuse, the fear, the distrust, the patterns of survival but I refuse to let it dictate my child’s life. I want them to grow knowing love is abundant, boundaries are respected, and their feelings are valid, no matter their age or gender. This is a lesson I wish I had received, and one I strive to instill every day.

It’s not easy. Parenting in a world shaped by broken lessons means constantly questioning what I teach, how I respond, and what example I set. I think about the mistakes my parents made, the ways they let anger, fear, or resentment dictate their behavior, and I work to do differently. I aim to model respect, empathy, and accountability, even when I falter.

I want my child to understand that love isn’t conditional. That asking for help isn’t weakness. That expressing emotions doesn’t make you fragile; it makes you human. That your voice deserves to be heard, even when it challenges authority or goes against expectation. These are the lessons I didn’t receive consistently as a child, and I’m determined they will receive them from me.

And yet, the weight of this responsibility is palpable. I know that my trauma has shaped me, and some of it inevitably shapes the home I provide. My child may one day seek therapy to untangle inherited pain and if that day comes, I will embrace it with accountability and support. I will acknowledge my own imperfections while standing as a constant presence of love.

Parenting also teaches humility. It forces reflection on how we were parented, how society treats us based on gender, and how cultural narratives shape our understanding of self-worth. It reminds me that the cycle of misunderstanding, judgment, and comparison is not inevitable: it can be interrupted, consciously and thoughtfully.

Every decision I make, every lesson I teach, and every moment I hold my child close is guided by one principle: they deserve a life richer, freer, and more loving than the one I inherited. They deserve respect, protection, and the knowledge that they are enough, exactly as they are.

Closing Reflection:

How much of parenting is about healing our own wounds while guiding another human through theirs?

And how often do we realize that the greatest gift we can offer is showing them what love, empathy, and respect truly look like?