Parenting Through the Pain: How My Past Shapes the Mother I Am Today

Hey Sis, Let’s talk about the weight we carry as moms—the unspoken truths, the fears we don’t voice, and the ways our pasts shape how we parent. Being a mother to boys and girls is like walking two different paths at the same time, each one filled with unique challenges, hopes, and lessons.

For me, raising daughters is about teaching them resilience, self-worth, and strength. Raising sons, though, comes with its own set of complexities—especially as a Black woman raising Black boys to become men. And through it all, I see how my own childhood, my relationships, and my struggles influence every choice I make as their mother.

The Echoes of My Childhood

Growing up, I learned what it meant to survive. My mom’s struggles with addiction and instability meant I never felt fully safe or secure. We moved constantly, never staying in one place long enough to feel like home. Nights were spent checking and rechecking locks while she disappeared to chase her next fix.

Those experiences shaped me—hardened me in ways I didn’t fully understand until I became a mom myself. I wanted something different for my children. I wanted them to feel safe, stable, and supported. But here’s the thing: when you parent from a place of fear, it’s easy to overcompensate.

With my daughters, I push them hard—sometimes too hard—because I’m terrified of them falling into the same cycles I had to fight my way out of. With my sons, I’m constantly trying to balance nurturing them with teaching them what it means to be a man in a world that often targets them just for existing.

Raising Daughters vs. Raising Sons

Raising daughters means teaching them to navigate a world that will try to undervalue them at every turn. I want my girls to know they are powerful, deserving, and capable of achieving anything. But sometimes, I wonder if my toughness hides the love I’m trying to show them.

Raising sons, on the other hand, feels like preparing them for battle. I want them to be gentle, kind, and compassionate, but I also know the world expects them to be tough, stoic, and unbreakable. It’s a constant struggle—wanting to raise good men while also protecting them from a society that doesn’t always see their humanity.

The Truth About Relationships and Trauma

The relationships I’ve had with their fathers haven’t just affected me—they’ve shaped how I parent. The betrayals, the heartbreaks, and the abuse left scars that sometimes bleed into how I interact with my kids.

I find myself overcompensating, trying to fill the voids their fathers left behind. But Sis, that’s a weight no woman should have to carry alone. It’s not our job to be both parents. Yet, somehow, we find ourselves doing just that—loving, disciplining, teaching, and protecting with no roadmap and no relief.

Here’s a truth I didn’t want to admit: sometimes, I parent out of guilt. Guilt for the choices I made, guilt for the things my kids have seen, guilt for not being able to shield them from every hurt. But guilt isn’t love, and it’s not the foundation I want to build my parenting on.

Something to keep in mind

Sis, here’s something we both need to hear: we’re doing better than we think.

Yes, our past shapes us, but it doesn’t define us. The fact that we even reflecting on how to be a better moms says everything about the kind of mothers we are. We’re present, we’re trying, and that’s what matters most.

But here’s another truth: our healing matters too. We can’t keep pouring from empty cups. Our kids need moms who’s whole, not ones holding it all together.

Breaking the Cycle

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that I can’t shield my kids from everything. I can’t fix every problem, heal every hurt, or control every outcome. What I can do is teach them resilience, model love and accountability, and show them that it’s okay to ask for help.

For my daughters, I want them to see a woman who knows her worth, who sets boundaries, and who refuses to settle for less than she deserves. For my sons, I want them to see a mother who loves deeply, who values emotional intelligence, and who teaches them that strength and vulnerability go hand in hand.

What I’ve Learned About Myself

Here’s the truth I didn’t want to face: sometimes, the standards I hold my kids to are really the standards I wish someone had held me to. I push them because I want them to be better, to have more, to rise above. But I’m learning that it’s okay to let them be kids—to let them make mistakes, learn, and grow at their own pace.

I’m also learning to forgive myself. For the things I didn’t know, for the ways I’ve fallen short, and for the moments I let my past dictate my present. Healing is a journey, Sis, and I’m still on it.

Writing Exercise: Reflecting on Your Parenting

Take some time to journal about your parenting journey. Answer these prompts:

1. What lessons from your past have shaped how you parent today?
2. How do you balance raising daughters and sons with their unique needs?
3. What is one thing you can do to show yourself grace as a parent?

Sis, parenting isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence. It’s about showing up, even when you’re tired, even when you’re unsure, even when the weight of the world feels too heavy.

Your past doesn’t define you, and it doesn’t define your kids. You’re breaking cycles, creating legacies, and teaching your children the most important lesson of all: that love, accountability, and resilience can overcome anything.

You’re not just raising children—you’re raising the next generation. And you’re doing an amazing job.

With love and light,

E 💜