Parenting is no walk in the park. By the time our children hit their teenage years, we often find ourselves in the throes of midlife, juggling a myriad of challenges. Adjusting to the evolving role of being a parent to a budding adult is particularly daunting. And let’s be honest—growing older is no picnic. As we edge closer to what could be the midpoint of our lives, we’re left to grapple with nagging questions: Did I do enough? Why am I not further along? Did I somehow mess up my kids?
Spoiler alert: Yes, we all mess up our kids in one way or another.
Recently, I stumbled upon my son’s college application essay tucked away on his dresser. I knew he wanted to keep it private—he had declined my and his dad’s requests to read it, opting instead for feedback from friends and the school’s writing center. Yet, curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself reading it anyway.
What I discovered hit me hard. I may have unintentionally caused some lasting damage, or perhaps it can be mended—fingers crossed. When he was just 12, I found out that his father was having an affair with another man. As my ex came out and we began the painful process of separating and eventually divorcing, everything spiraled out of control. Our arguments were harsh, and I was a wreck. The life I had cherished for over 17 years vanished in an instant, leaving me feeling like a shadow of my former self.
While I knew my son was struggling, I had no idea just how deeply my turmoil impacted him. The days I spent unable to rise from bed, claiming illness as an excuse, didn’t escape his notice. Kids are perceptive; he understood more than I realized. The pressure on him to look after his younger sister was overwhelming, and I had unwittingly placed that burden on him at an age when he should have been carefree.
The hurtful comments I made about his dad—about his character and manipulative nature—stuck with my son. My offhand remarks about his father’s sexuality, driven by my own anger and confusion, only added to the pain. I want to clarify: I have no issue with his father being gay. However, my distress at the situation made it hard for me to keep my feelings in check. My son interpreted those comments as attempts to turn him against his dad. I didn’t understand then that my feelings were not his reality. Kids deserve two loving parents and shouldn’t have to navigate such complex emotions.
I fell short as a mother during that tumultuous time. I was doing my best—whatever that looked like—but it clearly wasn’t enough. I was merely trying to survive, floundering from one day to the next.
Reflecting on this now, I’m filled with regret over how I managed my mental health during the divorce. I’m heartbroken that my actions, or lack thereof, affected my son so profoundly. I long to justify my choices to him, to explain that his dad’s behavior contributed to my state of mind. I wish I could convey to him how much easier the process could have been if we had approached it amicably, but I also recognize that doing so would undermine my son’s feelings. His emotions are valid, regardless of my attempts to rationalize my behavior.
Despite my pain, my mother pointed out that there were beautiful reflections in my son’s essay. He wrote about how these experiences shaped him into a stronger individual, fostering compassion and empathy. He learned to care for others while also recognizing the importance of self-care—valuable lessons for anyone.
As I ponder his words, I realize my children are not possessions; they are individuals growing into their own selves. I cannot alter their experiences or perspectives, no matter how much I wish I could.
Moving forward, I remind myself that I did the best I could with the resources I had at the time. My mom always said hindsight is 20/20, and it’s true. If given the chance, I would make different choices and strive to be a better parent during those dark days. But the past is set in stone. All I can do now is foster dialogue about forgiveness and grace, hoping my son can find it in his heart to forgive me.
Parenting is often painful, and like many aspects of life, it’s a constant learning experience. We might not always feel like we’re doing enough, but we have to remember we are all doing our best. We learn and grow, and hopefully, we do better next time.
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In summary, while the parenting journey is fraught with challenges and heartaches, it also offers moments of growth and learning. We strive to do our best, even when it feels insufficient.
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