This is One Way to Create Self-Trust in Kids

by | Feb 21, 2021 | Anxiety, Highly Sensitive Person, Parenthood transitions, Transitions - General | 48 comments

Parenting news bulletin: Our children are not here to meet our emotional needs and fulfill our dreams. We’re here to support theirs. (**see note at the end of the post)

This is a sharp left from the parenting path our world has been on for thousands of years, which has said: “Children are here for the benefit of the parents. They need to help raise younger siblings and work for the family business as soon as they’re capable. They’re to be seen but not heard, which literally means they can be present for a conversation but not contribute, and symbolically means that children shouldn’t have a real childhood or their own voice.”

But just as the marriage contract is continually evolving to reflect an equal pairing between two people, so the parenting contract is evolving as well.

We now recognize the immense value of childhood in terms of growing a strong sense of self. We honor play and emotional intelligence, encouraging children to express the full range of their emotional experience. We strive to protect a child’s innocence (increasingly challenging in today’s fast-paced, media-drenched world) as we understand that the preservation of childhood creates a more solid foundation onto which adulthood can be grown.

And we understand – or at least we’re moving in this direction – that one of the most important tasks of parenting in terms of nurturing your child’s self-trust is to look for their spark of interests and intrinsic gifts so that you can help fan that spark into a consistent flame of, again, a strong sense of self.

This isn’t always easy.

I remember when our son first told me that he wanted to be an astronaut. We were in Vancouver and he and I had walked down to the beach in the evening to spend time together. As we were looking up at the night sky he said, “I really want to go to the moon one day.” It hit me square between the eyes in that moment. I looked at him and said, “You want to be an astronaut?” “Yes,” he said quietly.

It seemed like just a blink of an eye ago that I had adjusted to the fact that he wanted to be a pilot. We supported his glider lessons and walked through a gauntlet of terror before he soloed on his 14th birthday. We celebrated when he earned two scholarships: one to complete his glider training and attain his pilot’s license on his 16th birthday and the second to receive his powered plane training (on hold because of covid).

It took me some time, but I had surrendered to his path as a commercial airline pilot. Yet I should have known that he wouldn’t stop dreaming there. I should have known that for the boy who longs to go higher and faster that he would want to go as high and fast as he possibly could. And that means following his dream to become an astronaut. And if it’s his dream, then it’s my task to support it.

Do I relish the idea of him traveling into space? Of course not. It terrifies me to my core. Do I like the idea that he might be 35,000,000 miles away from us? No, not in the slightest. (In fact, just writing down that number brings a lump of fear to my throat and tears of grief to my eyes.) It’s hard enough imagining him at college across the country. But to imagine him on the moon or Mars? Heart-wrenching. Nothing short of agonizing.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about him. So I spend some of my free time researching the paths they will help him fulfill his dream. I log onto college websites. I read articles about astronauts. I listen closely as he shares what he’s learned from the latest astronaut autobiography he’s read: what path did they take; where did they go to school; what clues can we glean about what it takes to become an astronaut?

Again, we’re in the midst of true shift in the parenting paradigm. For most of human history, children did exist to fulfill their parents’ needs: to farm the land, to help raise the kids, to add value or prestige to the family legacy by marrying “well”. Then they existed to her raised, which means caring for their physical being but not much beyond that.
But things are changing. As Elizabeth Lesser wrote in Marrow about her parents’ mindset around raising kids,

“In their day, self-refection was a waste of time and psychotherapy was for crazy people. And parenting? It was not yet a verb. People had children, fed and clothed them, sent them to school, made them do chores, and pretty much that was it.”

Right! Parenting is now a verb, and now we see it as our task to nurture and support our kids to become the fullest expression of themselves.

Or as Kahlil Gibran famously wrote in The Prophet:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

People often ask me, “How? How do you let him fly? How can you encourage him to become an astronaut?”

My response is, “How could I not? Flying is what gives his life meaning. Having a clear purpose is a gift beyond words. So many people struggle these days to find meaningful work and to even know what work they believe could be meaningful. I would rather he follow his dream that connects to purpose than try to squash it in any way and watch a slow decay of soul.”

That’s my quick answer. My deeper answer is that in order to support his dreams I have to be willing to face one of the most painful aspects of parenting: that our children are only under our roof for a very short time – the blink of an eye, really – and in order to accept this truth, I must be willing to grieve and let go. Grieve and let go. Grieve and let go. Isn’t that the essence of what I teach every day in my work? We have to grieve our fantasies of what we think life and love and parenting should be like so that we can accept what is.

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

Everest’s soul dwells in the house of tomorrow. He’s part of the Mars Generation, which is the term assigned to the hundreds of teens around the world who share Everest’s dream of being on the first mission to Mars. To be honest, leaving home for any length of time to any destination gives me travel anxiety, so the idea of going on a three-year mission to Mars is utterly inconceivable. But this is the point: it’s his dream, not mine. And it’s so far from my dream and even my realm of understanding that I cannot visit, not even in my dreams. And this shatters my heart.

But my love for him is stronger than my shattered heart. My love for him gathers up the shards of my heart and knits them back together again daily. When his face shines while talking about flying, when he shows me the latest photos from the probe that recently landed on Mars, when he studies into the night because he wants to make sure he’s on target for his dream of NASA, my heart surges and leaps just as it did on the day he was born. Parenting is a daily awareness of grief and gratitude, a plan that includes at its core an untethering of the instinct that says, “Keep our children close.” On the day Everest was born, my midwife said to me just before she cut the umbilical cord, “You’ll never be closer than you are right now.” How right she was.

Some journaling questions to consider:

  1. Did your parent support your interests, intrinsic gifts, and passions?
  2. If not, how might you life look/feel different if they had?
  3. If you’re a parent now, do you struggle at all with noticing and supporting your kids’ gifts and interests?
  4. As Linda wisely asks below: What would your life path have looked like had your parents encouraged you to make decisions based on self-trust in your teens and early twenties? (slightly different from question #2 above)


** Supporting our kids’ interests and dreams does NOT mean that we sacrifice our entire sense of self in order to do so. It’s a delicate balance, but it’s possible and essential to tend to our own needs as parents while supporting our kids. The main message of this post is that it’s not our kids’ job to live out our unlived lives and fill our emotional needs. That’s our job. **



  1. I love that you’ve quoted Kahlil Gibran. I love The Prophet. Thank you.

    • Thank you for your lovely comments, Joshua. I really appreciate your presence on this blog.

      • Pleasure. I don’t have children but I do wish my parents were a little more like what you describe. They’re fine now, but were not happy at first when I stated my intention to be a professional writer.

  2. My question in relation to your research to help him find all the paths, and that our parents simply sent us to school and made us do our chores. Today the extra burden of the verb parenting seems to fall on women alone. I don’t know many men dealing with the utter loss of independent spirit and soul that has come with their increase of parenting duty.

    I think nurturing a dream and seeing your children as individuals is different to sidelining yourself for their every whim.

    I don’t think you meant it this way but I believe the Mom guilt that sits within us reading this will interpret it like this.

    I’d love to hear about nurturing those around you while still ensuring you’re not then living their dreams.

    • Oh, I respectfully and profoundly disagree that men don’t carry the burden of parenting and the loss of self that often accompanies this path. My husband has made enormous sacrifices in order to be present for our sons, and he’s equally involved in supporting their passions and interests (if not more so). And he’s not the only one. Many of my clients’ male partners are devoted partners in parenting. How men and women show up can look different, but that doesn’t mean that men don’t carry their own burdens as parents.

      As far as nurturing one’s own path, yes! That’s a fundamental precept of all of my work: to learn how to fill one’s own well of Self and create inner aliveness and well-being so that we don’t expect others to do that for us.

      • My partner had to make very different life choices when his daughter was born – she was a ‘surprise’ and he and her mother split up when his daughter was young. He always intended to live abroad, in a specific country, and happily put these plans on hold to be a very involved co-parent and has a very cordial, respectful relationship with his daughters mother.

        • That’s beautiful to hear. Thank you.

      • I just want to chime in and say to Nikki – I see you and understand where you’re coming from. Sheryl’s point that men have their own significant struggles with parenting is well taken, but also – research consistently shows that women in our culture still carry more of the emotional and physical work of parenting than men, on average. This is all the more real in the current pandemic where childcare demands have exploded for so many. I think your last question/request is valid and has special (if not exclusive) resonance for many women.

        • Absolutely, Megan. Thank you for bringing the fact to light.

  3. Sheryl, do you think it is helpful for us to imagine what our life path would’ve looked like had our parents encouraged us to make decisions based on self trust in our teens and early twenties?

  4. Beautiful Sheryl, thank you! Your and Everest’s story inspire me to dream.

  5. The timing of this post is kind of funny to me. Just today, my husband and I hit what we feel has been a breaking point with our 2 young children– ages 4, and 1.5, both girls.

    From your work and other similar things (therapy, etc), I’ve gone along trying to respect my daughters’ interests, sparks, and have welcomed all of their emotions. All. Of. Them. Most of them, negative emotions, I might add.

    I did not realize how incredibly exhausting this would be. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve done the right thing, because we are completely burned out dealing with their tantrums and meltdowns and screaming all.the. time. because we allow it.

    People always say that children who are having tantrums and meltdowns aren’t being “seen and heard.” I feel like I’ve done all I can to see and hear them! I ask them to talk. I listen. I give them choices! I empathize. I tell them it’s okay to cry, I NEVER shush their crying and their upsets, and even allow the screaming so long as it’s not in someone’s ear hurting them. I have to wear earplugs (yes, ear plugs) for HOURS at a time every day because they are both so screamy.

    And yet, with all this bending over backwards to let them be who they are, and allow all their emotions, feelings, and experiences, the tantrums and unhappiness in their life just seems to be getting worse and worse.

    Well, like I said, we’d had it today. We finally broke and just started bossing them around. “Put your shoes away! NOW!” Well wouldn’t you know it– the tantrums stopped. These previously unruly and wild and frankly spoiled little brats were quiet for the first time in I don’t know how long. It was so nice! I’m tempted to continue. I’m so done with the way things have been going. So completely done.

    I knew in my head that letting kids be who they are instead of shaping and forcing them into what I want wouldn’t lend itself to quiet, obedient, well-behaved children. But, I don’t know if I can parent two kids who weren’t meant to be quiet, obedient, and well-behaved. I didn’t know it would be this hard. This is SOOOOO hard. I’m done.

    Anyway, I would love some support here on this parenting post to encourage me to keep trying to see and hear them and put up with them instead of saying, “Forget it. You’re the kid. I’m the parent. It’s this way or the high way. You’re done crying. The end.” Because the quiet and obedience that has followed me checking out has been SOOOOO nice.

    • I really hear you, Brittany. Taking the gentle parenting approach is exhausting. But what I can tell you is that when you adopt the, “I’m the parent and you’ll do what I say” approach as the only way, it’s easier in the short run but there will be long-term consequences that will make parenting exponentially more difficult in later years (especially teenage years). At the core of every relationship is trust, and when you take a power-over approach as a consistent paradigm you essentially start to erode trust.

      There are certainly times when we, as parents, needs to step in and say, “Enough.” But we can do so with love, even when we’re being firm. Alongside the compassionate listening and being with difficult feelings, kids also need firm and loving boundaries.

      There are some wonderful resources available that I encourage you to explore, like “Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids” by Laura Markham – and she also has a website and online support community.

    • Hi Brittany,
      If I may comment, to me it sounds like what you’ve needed, and are now implementing, are boundaries and limits. And perhaps it feels harsh and like you’re leaning to the other end of the spectrum, but maybe that’s temporary and is just you trying to return to center, where you can have both – allow them to be exactly themselves, but still have boundaries and limits in place. In my experience, I’ve completely given up myself in the name of fostering self-trust. But it actually comes from a fear-based place (like, oh no, if I decide this for you you’ll completely lose who you are).

      I think it’s completely age-appropriate for you to be the adult on some things. They don’t have to like it all. They’re allowed to have feelings. But you still get to be the grown up. It’s no fun if you’re bending over backward, and traveling down the path to rage and burn out.

      Another resource you might enjoy is I’ve gotten a lot from it. Hope this helps!

      • Beautifully said, Sarah. Thank you. That’s the essence of what I meant to communicate in my response but you said it so much better :). xoxo

        • Thank you so much to Brittany, Sarah, and Sheryl for this sub-thread and the recommendation with these resources. I, too, struggle with the delicate dance between boundaries and letting kids express their emotions and experience self-trust, especially around the difficult times (which are plentiful while we are all at home in a pandemic).

          Sheryl: I wish you’d offer a 30-day course about parenting! Especially since so many people who’ve taken your Conscious Weddings/Break Free from Relationship Anxiety then go on to have children and new questions. Please!! 😉 (Maybe it’s not your area enough, and there are, as the links in these posts show, plenty of other people doing this work, too.)

          • Emily: I have a book and a course outlined, but it will probably be a while before I release them. In the meantime, there are, indeed, many wonderful resources available for gentle and conscious parenting!

      • I agree completely.
        Children need to learn that they are always valued and respected, but that they also need to value and respect others.
        That is way we have limits and boundaries for our kids. We let them be themselves most of the time, but if it involves their safety or respecting other people and their boundaries, also and especially the other people in our family, we try to explain and set clear restrictions.

    • Hi Brittany, I have recently had such a similar struggle with my four and two year old little ones for months on end. The out-of-control tantrums wore on my heart and I knew I must be missing something. In my desperation, I stumbled across the book “Rest, Play, Grow” by Deborah MacNamara. It was extremely helpful to me, helping me understand more how to be the strong alpha caretaker our children so desperately need in order to rest in our love, experience their emotions authentically, and be able to grow into more mature responses as their brain development and nurture allows. It didn’t solve every difficulty, but it was such a help, I felt I must mention it in addition to the resources mentioned by others. Wisdom and peace to you and your husband in your own parenting journey!

  6. Thank you, Sheryl. I love your parenting posts and how they give us an opportunity to reflect on the ways we are raising our children as well as grieve the ways we were (mis)raised by our own well-meaning parents. Your sons are so blessed to have you as a nurturing guide, always helping them to see their own North Stars, rather than stars you could project upon them. I knew I wanted to be a psychologist at 15 (I still have journal entries from that time to prove it!), but at every turn my parents told me it was a terrible career choice and that I would make no money (and that psychotherapy was a waste of time!) My dad even went so far as to erase a Scantron form I filled out in high school that indicated my areas of interests which was to be sent out to potential colleges (so they could send me brochures on programs that fit my passions). I chose to go into the business world like my father – to make him proud and, of course, in the end (after many years of pain and suffering), I became a psychologist after all! I still grieve for all those years lost working at jobs that were never the right fit for me. But I am grateful that something inside of me knew how to course-correct. And I know with all of my soul that I will not inflict this same path upon my daughter. ❤️🙏🏼 Thank you for validating this for me!

    • Cindy: This is painful and beautiful to read, and I had no idea that that was part of your story. This stands out for me in high relief:

      “But I am grateful that something inside of me knew how to course-correct. And I know with all of my soul that I will not inflict this same path upon my daughter.”


      Thank you for sharing, Cindy :). xoxo

  7. Wow, what a post. I usually comment on your Instagram posts, but I’ve completely taken a break from that, and am so happy to come across this in my e-mail. I’m not a parent, but I read this and I’m not sure why, but I began crying. I want to pursue a Masters in Counseling in the near future and I’m still unsure if I want to work with children/middle/high school or adults. But I guess the crying stemmed from reflecting on my own life, how I am when I’m with children, and how I want to create meaning for myself in the future. Thanks for a wonderful post.

    • I’m so glad the post resonated. Kathy.

  8. Hi Sheryl,

    I was just wondering if you are still planning on running a course in the near future on the mother wound? Reading this post reminds me of a particular gift and talent that I had from a very young age, which for a myriad of complex reasons, my mother would not allow me to pursue as a career when I finished high school- although, thankfully, I did eventually pursue it very successfully as a ‘side hustle’ much later in life and I am now looking at ways that I can combine it with my (also very enjoyable but very different ) profession ❤️

    • Yes! I’m planning to release it in August, but that’s not set in stone :).

      • Hah, I don’t think anything can be set in stone at the moment 😊 Great, I look forward to it whenever you release it 😊❤️

  9. The Prophet is one of the literary gems of this world. So beautiful and profound. While I’m not yet a parent, I’m thankful to have your perspective to prepare my heart to be a parent someday. I’m fortunate to have parents who celebrated my uniqueness and dreams for my life (as they came and went), and I suspect it’s because both of my parents didn’t have that from theirs growing up.

    • What a gift that your parents were able to fully support who you are!

  10. “We have to grieve our fantasies of what we think life and love and parenting should be like so that we can accept what is.”

    I love this, Sheryl. This is what I have learned from you – accepting what is and finding gratitude in those things. ❤️

  11. Hi Sheryl 🙂

    Can you speak to what this looks like when raising young children? How do you distinguish fostering self-trust from helping push through fear? For example, we recently decided to send W back to her first preschool for various reasons. It’s not my ideal choice, but given the circumstances it’s the best one. She’s had moments of crying before we leave and anxiety about going (she’ll wake up on days when she doesn’t have to go asking if she has to go to”school” that day. It kind of breaks my heart). But, we’re told by the teachers that she engaged and seemingly having fun. She tells us she doesn’t really like it, but other moments she’ll talk about games she’s played and other kids she’s hung out with. My worry is that her self-trust has already been shattered. How would I even know? How do you tell the difference when a child is saying they don’t want do something vs simply being scared to do something? Because there is, I believe, a lot of value in working through fears. I just don’t want it to come with the cost of losing her sense of self, which I already fear happening.

    • Since I know she’s in there in spades, I’m going to pose the question back to your loving and wise inner parent :):

      “How do you tell the difference when a child is saying they don’t want do something vs simply being scared to do something?”

      How would you respond to someone else if they asked this question?

      • It’s so hard to tell!! I keep obsessing about this choice, and I think it’s because I’m picking up on that she doesn’t want to be doing this (but could be my projection! I don’t want her to be doing this), but I’m trying to make myself believe it’s because she’s scared. And then it poses the question – is there anything wrong with having her do something she doesn’t want to do, for a generally short time, doesn’t have to be long-term, because it meets needs?

        But how to tell, I’m honestly stumped! She’s not screaming, not clinging to me at drop-off, but something feels off. She doesn’t vocalize it, just says that it’s the being away part that’s hard. Is it in me? In her? So many factors to consider. And yes, that part of me that wants to pull her back in to “protect” is VERY strong.

        I guess the answer might be that we’ll know in time. We don’t always know, and sometimes the only path to knowing is trying things on to see how they fit. But I would love to hear your take. 😉

        • “I guess the answer might be that we’ll know in time. We don’t always know, and sometimes the only path to knowing is trying things on to see how they fit.”

          That’s exactly how I would have responded, Sarah. Your daughter is resilient and your bond is solid, which means she can tolerate an uncomfortable experience for a period of time while you watch and keep your finger on the pulse of how she’s doing.

          You’re an amazing mother. Never forget that.

          • Thank you. 🙂 It’s hard to remember sometimes.

  12. My heart goes out to Brittany and the other readers who highly value your work but find it very challenging to relate to today’s blog.

    I’ve read so many books on parenting and parenting methods and found that the best advice (that works for me) is to go with my heart and use self-help books as a guide, but not a rule book.

    Brittany, I hear you and send a virtual hug because I can relate to your story. The mental health of the parents is so important too and I feel that you found great relief by establishing boundaries, and it sounds like your children found relief as well, though I know others will disagree.

    • As I said to Brittany, boundaries are essential – as is the mental health of the parents – and I don’t think anyone from the peaceful or gentle parenting movements would disagree with that.

      I’m curious, Jenn, what is it about the post itself that was difficult to relate to? The thrust of the message is to support our children to be fully who they are. This doesn’t mean that we sacrifice our sense of self in order to do so.

      Also, it’s entirely okay not to relate to everything I share. Part of growing self-trust is to say, “Hmmm… this message doesn’t land with me, but that’s okay.” I’m simply sharing one aspect of my experience, and I certainly don’t expect everyone to agree or relate.

  13. Thank you Sheryl, being a mother myself I can totally relate. I honor all of you for respecting Everest’s deepest needs and aspiration. I’m wondering about the look on your face when he told you about wanting to travel to Mars. I’ve noticed how the slightest facial expression I make is enough to send my kids a message. My hope is that my kids feel complete, fulfilled and beautiful the way they are. I’m sure that’s a consequence of my personal story, which I shared with you in most of your courses. The questions at the end really resonated with me. I longed for everyone’s approval, having pleased everybody in my childhood and adolescent, and craving to be loved as the excellent student and kind daughter and friend I was. I never stopped to think about my purpose like Everest. My parents were well intentioned but I thought they knew better and I did what they told me. Fortunately, anxiety and emptiness knocked on my door in my early 20’s. They were the pieces of the little girl and adolescent that I hadn’t looked at. That’s when I took charge, that cost me many fights with my parents and some friends, that’s when I started to study therapy, coaching, social-emotional intelligence and NLP but it wasn’t until very recently that I came out of the closet as a Transpersonal Therapist and Coach to get to my own “Mars”. I feel in total alignment and so peaceful. I spent a life time looking for the exit door when I just needed to kick open the carton walls. I hope I respect my children, I hope they see how wise they are, I hope I can always inspire them through my deeds. Bless you Sheryl and you know I love you. A big hug.

    • What an extraordinary path you’ve been on, Georgina, and I have no doubt that your kids will know that you support their dreams.

      The look on my face? Oh, probably one of pure horror! He knows that it terrifies me, and he also knows that my terror is my responsibility and that I will do anything I can to help him along the path of his dreams.

      • Dear Sheryl,
        This recalibrated so much:
        “My love for him gathers up the shards of my heart and knits them back together again daily.” How beautiful and so deeply true in its affirmation that parenting naturally would come w grief. Thank you for sharing this as it reminds me of the cycle of life-growth-death-life that comes when we love and grieve with an with an open heart. And the capacity we have to hold the full spectrum of the pain and feelings to create and stay open. Thank you also for showing us through your work and unfolding how to dream and support your own dreams in the process. 💛

        • Thank you, Patricia. I’m so glad it landed in a warm spot for you. xoxo

  14. I’ve followed your stories about Everest’s flying with great delight, probably because they are so dramatic and you are wonderful to be able to help him pursue these dreams! I worry that some of what you say above in your post, Sheryl, about kids helping out on the farm as fulfilling the parents’ needs might be taken out of context as saying kids shouldn’t have to do chores or contribute to the family life in that way. I’m assuming you wouldn’t think that, though, and would instead agree that chores are a healthy part of growing a responsible human (and teaching boundaries, to piggyback on other themes in these comments). Right? But… if you have a child who has recently discovered that she can scream in a high-pitched, ear-splitting tone at the mention of straightening up (not altogether putting away) a days-long, very creative pretend-play game, so that the parents don’t accidentally step on scissors or slip on sheets of paper as they walk around… that’s not not about the kid existing to fulfill the parents’ needs as it is about contributing to everyone’s well-being, right? Thanks!

    • Chores are important! Children are not here to serve us, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t have responsibility to contribute to the family home. It can be challenging, however, when you get into power struggles with your kids about chores, and this is where the delicate dance between letting go and having boundaries comes in.

  15. I want to comment on the question “what if”. I do realize I might be different if my parents had been more supportive but two things come to mind. Who I came into the world as may not have let them support me in those ways. Also, While in hindsight it feels like I didn’t get what I needed, it has also made me who I am today. I have a gift for working with troubled teens. I just “get” them. Without my difficult experiences I don’t think I would have this gift. Yes, I had to do work at grieving and processing the past, but coming out the other side the gifts I’ve gotten outway what could have been as if that was even a possibilty.

    Also on parenting: If we look at it on a continuum the two ends would be “bad” parenting of too strict (abuse) to too lenient on the other side. In between is a whole range that fits who we are as people. Parenting is Hard!!! If we expect it to be easy we’re setting ourselves up for dissapointment. If we can understand the hard times are appropriate and smile at the situations, we can see it’s all part of the “Whole Catastrophe” as Zorba says. We all come into these bodies to learn something. We can’t be perfect. We will make mistakes and that is the growth we create inourselves and our children together.

    I am aware i am not the greatest at putting my thoughts into words but this is what came out.
    Thank you for this blog.

    • This is beautiful, Steve. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

      I’ve heard other people say things along the lines of ‘it’s the sacred duty of the parent to wound the child in a specific way’. I don’t take this as a green light to not give our children our all, do our very best, but there is a part of that statement that feels true to me, even if I can’t fully grasp it.

  16. Sheryl,

    This is unrelated to this post, but very much so related to you! I am a staff writer for a teenage magazine that focuses on mental health, student life, wellness, etc. After a life changing experience with RA, I’m writing an op-ed on what relationship anxiety is, how it presents itself, and what you can do to cope (all for teenagers!)

    I just want to let you know that you and your writing has changed my life and I can’t wait to spread the wisdom that you taught me to others :).


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