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  • Writer's pictureLindsey Woods

Circumstances and my changing of perspective.

Updated: Jun 3, 2022

So how do you parent your own kids after your parents “did their best” but their best wasn’t enough? I would be lying if I said I had the answer to that question. It’s a funky situation so let’s explore that. This is a long one so BUCKLE UP.

I can really only remember back to 4 years old. We lived in Alabama. That is the earliest I can remember them fighting. Don’t get me wrong, every couple fights I guess. But does everyone have to watch spaghetti sauce being thrown across the room and their mom locking their dad out while he bangs on the door? Hiding keys or my mom trying to jump out of the car? Driving my mom to the ER because he threw something and busted her head open? I grew up thinking that was what I had to endure to be loved. By them and any future loved ones. That kind of stuff happened a lot through out my childhood and through my teen years until I left at 18. They did do their best to make sure we had absolutely everything we wanted but I always craved the affection we didn’t get and a sense of normalcy. Growing up around abuse puts you on edge around any kind of tension. They gave each “loving” phrase with a string attached. We’ll help you but you have to do this or we did this for you so why aren’t you grateful type of mindset.

Once out on my own, with my own daughter I carried that trauma into parenting her. I was such a helicopter mom. I was harsh and critical. I was basically repeating what I had been exposed to as a child. When I left her dad, I moved in with my parents again. Thus began the over parenting from them. “Keep her in your room so she’s quiet because she’ll wake up everyone.” Don’t get me wrong, it was their home but what happened to respect for who I was as a parent? I had to rely on them for a few months so I would do office work for them or clean the house for extra money until I found a good job. When I finally found a good job, I was working 45 min away at a children’s boutique and allowed them to help put her in a daycare near their home. It didn’t last long because I didn’t like just seeing her for 4 hours a day. I found one closer to my work that worked better and I could spend way more time with her. During this time, her dad and I we’re coparenting but my dad didn’t like that so he pressured me to stop letting her see him. I didnt listen because we were court ordered. It wasn’t long after though that Epp’s dad began to stop getting her on his weekend on his own accord. I ended up dating a guy that wasn’t the greatest for me or Epperly. Someone who basically was everything I didn’t need and should have stayed away from. I moved in with him against my better judgement after a few months of dating him because of an incident where my dad yelled at Epperly over something very trivial and I told them I wouldn’t have them treating my child the way they used to treat me. In the beginning it was fun because he was my polar opposite. Outgoing and had a ton of friends. While staying with him, I spent each paycheck on gas to go to work, a baby sitter, and groceries. Like lived paycheck to paycheck which was at most a little over $200 each time. Sometimes there wasn’t enough money to cover all so I would feed Epperly and him while I barely ate and put $5 in gas to make it to work. It got so bad, I had a two week period where I had my sister keep her so I could save just a little. Her dad paid child support but it just was not enough. We struggled so so much. But eventually we managed to dig back out but not without me getting away from him.


Fast forward 11 months and I had broken up with the guy I was dating for good, had moved in with a friend’s family to avoid moving back to my parents, and was finally getting back to myself. Thats when I met Blake and everything kind of changed. He brought me comfort I hadn‘t known I had needed and he cared for Epperly just as much as he did me. That was my first true shift in parenting perspective. I had a partner to help me. I didn’t feel like I was drowning anymore. Not long after, we had Wrigley and postpartum hit. I really

didn‘t get to bond well with her for a good 3-4 months because I was in major denial I was actually dealing with PPD. I was trying to be a good mom and not be sad I was awake every single day for a year. It was awful because I just wanted to feel normal but would feel like nothing was right and that I didn’t deserve the kids and boyfriend I had. I contemplated suicide a LOT. I was experiencing rage, extreme depression, and cloudiness. They changed my meds up a few times until we finally landed on one that made me feel okay. Energetic even! When I finally got out of it and could think clearly, my parenting shifted once again. I was happy. I wasn’t as harsh but still parenting critically and I didn’t even notice what it was doing to my girls. It took getting pregnant to get my hormones back in check and that sense or normalcy.


It wasn’t until I miscarried the first time that I realized I was being a complete butthole. Sarcastic and just guilting constantly. Again, a learned trait. I hated it. I still carried a rage in me that I wanted gone. I started then pulling back from it. I threw myself into my woodworking business and parenting them and figuring out how to do it without bringing in past trauma. It was really hard because once you’re hardwired one way, backing out of it is 10 times harder. I was trying to take it day by day. When I miscarried again a year later, it sent me into yet another spiral. This time I caught myself. I pulled myself back in. I let myself grieve then got back to work.


Surprise surprise, I started talking to my parents again right before I had Clark. I wanted to see if we could be adults and normal. My mom was even there for the birth. But then started the cycle again. At 20 weeks pregnant with Fen, my mother in law threw us a big gender reveal party at her home. I invited my parents WELL in advance to make sure they‘d make it. The day came and on the way to the party my mom canceled. They had to go to pick up supplies for their business. I was hurt but let it go. When I was 6 months pregnant with Fen, Blake and I decided to elope. I invited my parents again well in advance because they weren’t there the first time I got married and I wanted to include them on this day. To my surprise and horror, my mom ghosted me a few days before and waited until the morning of the day we got married to give a lame excuse and not show up. I was angry but brushed it off because, again, things happen. That‘s when I started really looking into the cycle happening. Why had I let them get close to me again for them to just tell me they had something better to do. I gave it one more try when I asked my mom to be there for Fen’s birth. I called her soon as I knew what time and day so she could be there. A week out from my day to be induced, she asked if I could have my doctor change it because my dad had a colonoscopy that day. A COLONOSCOPY. That was pretty much it for me. It took her a few days and I just asked her not to come when I had Fen. The cycle reared its ugly head again and I had had enough. How did I process that? Looking at how I parented my own kids.

I started to reflect on how my kids reacted to how I parented. How they were so closed up. It made me so sad and I saw myself in their shoes. We needed to change it and quick. I started to research gentle parenting. Looking at how we reacted and spoke to our kids and how it really mirrored in their behavior. Now let me be hella transparent, we are still in the thick of not pushing our own traumas on our kids. It’s taken a LOT of soul searching to do it. In doing that, it brought out of lot of unresolved trauma I needed to deal with so it would stop affecting my own parenting.

I reached out to my mom recently to see if I could talk through our issues. She insisted they've always been my issues and she wasn‘t apologizing for how they raised us. I asked about the past abuse and how we were spoken to as kids. I asked why my feelings were always diminished when I asked directly about things or how the important times in my life were missed over trivial things. She blocked me but not before saying she didn’t appreciate me saying those things and bringing up her trauma. I decided then and there to cut ties. It‘s hard to reason with someone who won’t even address your feelings without making it about them. Its been a few weeks now and I have since changed my number. It doesn’t stop her from emailing me to over explain why she thinks the abuse from my dad was her fault and bring up times when she didn’t agree with my decisions about parenting. Those are her own demons to fight and I choose not to be a part of it anymore.

They shaped me but they don’t get to control how I shape my own family. Parenting is hard but abuse won’t be a part of this chapter.


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