I always thought that if I raised my kids differently than I was it would be…clear.

But it isn’t.

It feels like guessing. It feels like questioning and second guessing everything.

I was raised in a strict conservative Christian home. We had strict rules we knew to obey, and there wasn’t wiggle room. I hated a lot of it. But I didn’t know anything different. I was seen as defiant, selfish, and strong willed. Those were not good traits to have.

I didn’t like having to apologize to my sisters before I was ready and hugging them. Even worse was if the conflict was because they were treating me horribly and I finally had enough and I was the one to get in trouble…again. I would have to say sorry, hug them and listen to the “sorry means you’ll never do it again” talk…again.

Why does this matter?

When I had our daughter, I was twenty-five. I was SO excited to be a mom, it was all I ever wanted to do! Holding that little, tiny human I felt intensely protective of her, and I knew I would never raise her in the same way. I was never told “just wait until you have a daughter just like you!” But I was told just wait until x,y,z, and you’ll see. What I learned…parenting is what you make it.

Our daughter is so easy to love. And that forced me to face something hard. Why didn’t it feel like I was loved the same way?
Our daughter brings so much joy into my life. But I struggled because, why didn’t I?

It was around when our daughter was two and our son was one, I began to realize that we could do things differently. We didn’t have to speak to have our kids listen to us. In fact, there was even better listening skills because it required getting down to their level and communicating.

I have been a very intentional parent from the start. Explaining the how’s and whys. “Because I said so” is something that doesn’t get said in our house. I work extremely hard to treat our kids how I wish I had been treated. Explaining things, listening to their ideas and viewpoints. Allowing them to question us, what we say and do and to ask why as many times as they need to get the answer their brain needed.

But it is HARD.

We don’t get manuals as parents. All I knew is I didn’t want their childhoods looking like mine. All I knew is what I DIDN’T want to do…I had no idea how to move forward into what we wanted. We didn’t have family around, we didn’t even have friends around.

It was brutally hard and I was desperately lonely, but there was a blessing that we didn’t have input. Sometimes I cried hard, wanting input and not having it…wanting help in a ‘I’m drowning’ sort of way. But it did allow us to carve a brand-new path.

And that path?
It wasn’t clear. It’s not neat. Its messy. And I started to realize something too. Parenting differently doesn’t mean it feels better right away. Sometimes it actually feels harder, because I’m not just raising our kids…I’m re-parenting myself at the same time.

Its making mistakes and owning it and apologizing to our kids.
It looks like second guessing myself after I walk away from a conversation.
It feels like maybe I’m just to soft…or to hard.
It looks like holding boundaries while still holding space for connection.
It is recognizing that while we are their parents, and they are our kids…they are their own person.

Maybe that’s why it feels so unclear.

Because I’m building something I was never shown.

There’s no map for what we are building. No voice in my head telling me “this is how it’s done.”

Just a quiet knowing that my kids deserve to be heard, respected and understood…even when I’m still learning how to do that myself.

So maybe it’s not suppose to feel clear.

Maybe it’s just suppose to be different.

You’re Seen

The Honest Middle