Parenting Though Trauma


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When You’re Healing Too

Healing from trauma is hard.
Parenting while healing is harder.

Especially when you’re doing it alone.
Especially when your child is angry, shutting down, or hurting, and you’re still trying to find your own balance.
Especially when the system that’s meant to support families makes it even harder to protect the very people you love most.

This isn’t the parenting journey anyone dreams of.
But for many of us — this is our reality.

We are the safe ones.
The stable ones.
The ones they yell at because we won’t leave.
The ones who cry alone so we can hold our children up in public.

We love fiercely.
We break quietly.
And we show up anyway.

“There is no such thing as a perfect parent. So just be a real one.” — Sue Atkins


You Are Not Failing Because You’re Struggling

If you’re crying in the bathroom at midnight,
If you’re lying awake wondering if you’re ruining your child,
If you feel torn between soothing their pain and managing your own—

You’re not failing.
You’re fighting.

If you truly were the “bad parent” they sometimes scream you are,
You wouldn’t care.
You wouldn’t question.
You wouldn’t stay.

But you do.

You care enough to worry.
You love enough to doubt yourself.
You keep going even when your own tank is empty.

“You’re doing better than you think. Just showing up every day is an act of courage.” — Anonymous

And that means you are enough.


Emotional Honesty: Teaching It While Living It

In trauma-affected homes, emotions often scream instead of speak.

We teach our kids that all emotions are valid — but not all behaviors are.

“Feelings are much like waves; we can’t stop them from coming, but we can choose which ones to surf.” — Jonatan Mårtensson

It’s okay to be angry — but not to hurt someone with your words or fists.
It’s okay to be sad — but not to shut out the people who love you.
It’s okay to need space — but not to destroy connection in the process.

We show them it’s okay to cry.
It’s okay to say “I’m not okay.”
It’s okay to have a bad day and want to hide under the covers.

And then we show them how to get up anyway, how to apologize, how to reconnect.

We’re raising humans, not robots.


Forgiveness, Accountability, and Empathy

Our children must learn:
You can have a rough day and still make things right.

It’s fine to yell, cry, or snap—but come back and say:
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I love you.”

“Apologizing doesn’t mean you’re wrong. It means you value your relationship more than your ego.” — Mark Twain (attributed)

That’s accountability.
That’s how we foster emotionally mature humans.

Sometimes my kids say, “Yeah, I was a wee shite today.”
We laugh. We hug. We try again tomorrow.

We also teach empathy:
Even on your worst day, someone near you might be drowning too.

“Empathy is seeing with the eyes of another, listening with the ears of another, and feeling with the heart of another.” — Alfred Adler


When They Don’t Want Help — And You Can’t Make Them

In Ontario, once your child is 12, they can legally refuse therapy.

You can’t force the appointment.
You can’t sign the youth in if they don’t consent.

Even when they need it most.

“You can’t heal someone who doesn’t want help. But you can love them until they’re ready to help themselves.” — Unknown

Two of my kids go to trauma counseling. One refuses. Even though I know she needs it most.

So I wait. I keep the door open. I love through the refusal. Because that’s all I can do.


The Crisis No One Talks About: When the System Fails

If your child is threatening suicide, self-harming, or having a total mental health breakdown…

You can’t always get help.

You can’t just call police or an ambulance to intervene unless your child consents or there’s an immediate physical risk.
Because minors over 12 have legal rights—even when they’re hurting themselves.

The only legal option is filing a Form 2 under Ontario’s Mental Health Act and getting court authorization first.

If this happens over the weekend?

You’re stuck until Monday morning.

“Sometimes the system designed to protect fails the very people who need it most.” — Vann Newkirk (often misattributed to W.E.B. Du Bois)

So you stay awake. You guard the door. You hide the pills. You wait.


What Can You Do In the Meantime?

  • Document every incident—every refusal, every threat, every breakdown.
  • Talk to legal duty counsel or a family lawyer about filing Form 2.
  • Call crisis lines like Kids Help Phone for support—even if your child won’t.
  • Connect with trauma-informed community programs or school counselors.
  • Create a safety plan—even if it’s not perfect. It might save a life.

And remind them:

“You are not a burden. You are not broken. And I will not stop loving you, even in the dark.” — Anonymous


When They Turn Their Anger on You

Sometimes, they don’t hate the abuser.
They’re angry at you — the stable one, setting limits, staying close.

And it hurts. Because you’re doing the work. You’re the one who stayed. You set the rules.

You can respond with love:

“I hate your anger, but I love you. You can scream at me. Push me away. But my love isn’t breakable. You can’t lose me that easily.”

They may not believe you today—but they will remember.


And Still — You Are Enough

If you’re lying awake doubting yourself…
If you’re torn between heartbreak and resilience…
If you’re parenting trauma while healing your own wounds…

You are not failing.
You’re feeling.
You’re trying.
You’re still showing up.

“You don’t have to get it right every time. You just have to keep showing up.” — Sue Atkins

You are holding your children—even when you feel like you’re falling apart yourself.

That’s extraordinary.
You are enough.
One day, they will see you.

“To the mama who’s doing it all while breaking cycles, healing wounds, and raising hearts — you are a miracle in motion.” — Anonymous