Parenting while healing: the courage to break patterns

There are moments as a parent that take you by surprise. Your child cries because their toy broke, or they slam a door after being told “no,” and suddenly you feel something much bigger stir inside you. It’s not just irritation. It’s almost like an echo from long ago.

This is what happens when you are parenting while healing your own childhood wounds. You are not only caring for your child, but also carrying the weight of your past. At times, it can feel as if you are raising two children at once. The little one in front of you, and the younger version of yourself who never felt fully seen or safe.

Why parenting while healing feels so heavy

When old wounds echo in the present moment

Many parents who want to break generational cycles find themselves wondering: why does this feel so hard when I am trying so much to do better?

If love felt inconsistent growing up, you might doubt whether you are “getting it right” now.

If saying “no” once led to punishment or rejection, setting boundaries with family or children may still feel unsafe.

Sometimes your body remembers what your mind has long buried. A child’s tears or anger can trigger old fears, leaving you on edge before you realise it.. You may tell yourself, “my child is just upset,” but inside, it can feel like stepping back into your own childhood.

The challenges of breaking generational cycles

Doubting yourself when love once felt uncertain

If you grew up questioning whether you were loved, it makes sense that you second-guess yourself now. Even if you know, logically, that you are offering your child something very different, your nervous system can still pull you back into old doubts.

Boundaries that feel unsafe but are necessary

For some, boundaries are especially difficult. Saying “no” as a child may have meant rejection, shame, or even danger. As a parent, setting limits with your child or your wider family may feel overwhelming. Yet these boundaries are part of creating safety, for both you and your child.

Practical ways to heal while parenting

Pausing to notice what is happening now

Old patterns sneak in when we are on autopilot. Pausing to notice—“my jaw is tight,” “I feel like shutting down”—creates a small but powerful gap between reaction and response. That pause is where you begin to parent differently.

Allowing space to grieve what you did not receive

Breaking cycles often involves grieving the parent you didn’t have. It is not about blame, but about honouring what was missing. One parent once shared with me:
“When I admitted I had never been soothed, I stopped resenting my son’s needs. I could finally soothe him because I gave myself permission to need it too.”

Everyday acts of self-care and reparenting

Healing does not always come from big breakthroughs. It shows up in everyday choices—resting without guilt, speaking kindly to yourself after a tough day, keeping a snack handy because you deserve care too. These micro-moments of self-compassion are a form of inner healing that ripple out into your parenting.

Repairing after conflict matters more than perfection

Children do not need flawless parents. They need safe ones. Saying, “I lost my temper earlier and I am sorry. I love you,” teaches your child that mistakes do not break relationships. Repair builds trust in a way perfection never could.

Inclusive parenting and different experiences

Same-sex parents navigating unique pressures

For same-sex parents, breaking cycles can carry extra layers. There may be societal expectations, family rejection, or the weight of wanting to prove that you are “enough.” Healing your own history while protecting your child from prejudice can feel like double the load. Yet every moment of showing up with love and authenticity is cycle-breaking in action.

Parenting while neurodivergent

Neurodivergent parents may face challenges in processing emotions, managing sensory overload, or handling executive function while also raising children. These struggles do not make you “less than.” In fact, your perspective often brings unique creativity, empathy, and patience. Understanding your own needs and putting support systems in place is also a powerful way of modelling self-acceptance to your child.

Raising children across different cultures and traditions

Parents navigating more than one culture may find themselves caught between values. Perhaps your own upbringing emphasised obedience and silence, while you now want to encourage self-expression in your child. Or maybe you feel the tension of family expectations that clash with your parenting style. Honouring your roots while consciously choosing which traditions to pass on is another way of breaking cycles and creating a balanced legacy.

Creating a new legacy for your family

Choosing compassion over perfection

Every time you pause and choose differently, you loosen the grip of old patterns. Compassion, not perfection, is the goal.

Building safety and consistency for your child

Your child may never know the battles you have fought inside yourself, and that is the gift. They get to grow up with more safety, consistency, and love than you had.

Remembering you are raising both your child and your inner self

As one parent beautifully put it: “I realised I am raising two children—the one in front of me, and the one inside me. Both deserve my patience.”

Breaking cycles is not about erasing the past. It is about writing a new story, moment by moment, one rooted in presence, safety, and compassion.

Final thoughts

Parenting while healing is courageous work. It means holding space for your child’s needs while gently tending to the parts of yourself that were once neglected. It means making mistakes, repairing, and trying again. It means slowly building a new legacy for your family, one of love, safety, and compassion.

Wishing you good mental health in the meantime.

Sticking My Tongue Out at Anxiety: Embracing My Inner Child

Do you ever feel trapped in cycles of anxiety, overthinking, or self-doubt? You’re not alone. I sometimes catch myself sticking my tongue out when I’m concentrating, a tiny habit from childhood. It doesn’t define me, but it’s a small glimpse of my inner child still present, quietly shaping how I experience the world. Many of us carry habits and emotional patterns from childhood, ways of thinking, feeling, and reacting, that continue to influence how we navigate life today. Recgonising these patterns—yes, even the tiny, silly ones—is the first step toward feeling calmer, more grounded, and more in control.

Where Anxiety Comes From

Anxiety rarely appears out of nowhere. It often grows from early experiences, moments when we felt unseen, unheard, or uncertain. Even small experiences can leave lasting imprints. You might notice that you:

• Overthink situations or decisions,

• Struggle to express your needs or set boundaries,

• Feel “too much” or “not enough” even as an adult.

Recognising these patterns in yourself is the first step toward change, and once you see them, you can start responding consciously rather than reacting automatically. Sometimes it’s just noticing the small twitch in your fingers or the little sigh you let out—it all matters.

Why Childhood Patterns Matter

Our early years teach us how to cope and how to relate to others. If a child grows up with criticism, unpredictability, or emotional neglect, the nervous system can stay on high alert well into adulthood. This can show up as anxiety, perfectionism, or difficulty trusting yourself and others.

Understanding these patterns isn’t about blaming the past, it’s about giving yourself compassion and insight. By noticing how childhood experiences influence your thoughts and reactions, you can begin to make conscious choices that feel safer and more nurturing.

Practical Ways to Start Shifting Patterns

Even outside therapy, you can begin noticing and shifting old patterns. Here are some ways to start:

1. Mindfulness and Reflection
   Pause to notice your thoughts and feelings without judgment. Questions like, “What am I feeling right now, and why?” can help uncover hidden triggers. Just a few seconds of awareness can already make a difference—trust me.

2. Journaling
   Writing down your thoughts can highlight recurring patterns and beliefs that feed anxiety. Don’t worry about spelling or grammar, just let it flow.

3. Self-Compassion
   Speak to yourself as you would to a child you care for. I sometimes find myself doodling little shapes or tapping my fingers when I’m anxious, a small quirk from childhood. Noticing it with kindness—rather than thinking “ugh, really?”—can make a big difference.

4. Small, Achievable Steps
   Change happens gradually. Start with simple actions, a mindful walk, a short breathing exercise, or gently asserting your needs in a low-stakes situation. Even tiny wins count—they add up faster than you think.

You Are Not Alone

Many people feel like they’re “too sensitive” or “overreacting,” but anxiety often reflects deeply rooted responses developed in childhood. These feelings are valid, and change is possible. Noticing your inner child, those little habits, tics, or playful quirks, can help you reconnect with curiosity, resilience, and joy.

Even small moments of awareness or reflection are meaningful steps toward feeling calmer and more confident.

A Gentle Closing

If you feel ready to explore these patterns further, reaching out for support, through therapy or a trusted friend, can be a helpful next step. You don’t have to navigate these challenges alone.

I’ll finish this blog with a small smile, sticking my tongue out just like I do when I’m concentrating, and loving my inner child for all the ways it still shows up. Yep, even the little fidgets and doodles count. It’s a little reminder that we can embrace ourselves, quirks and all, and that joy and curiosity are never too far away.

Wishing you good mental health in the meantime

Why Conflict Isn’t the Problem in Relationships

No one comes into a relationship as a blank slate. The way you argue, retreat, or shut down may have more to do with how your emotions were handled growing up than your partner.

If you grew up in a loud or chaotic home, conflict might feel scary or overwhelming. If you learned that it’s safer to keep the peace, you may avoid confrontation at all costs—even when something needs to be said.

This is where attachment comes in. Some of us lean in when we’re distressed (anxious attachment), others pull away (avoidant), and some are able to hold steady and communicate openly (secure). These are not fixed identities, but patterns—and they can shift with awareness and support.

It’s Not Just About What You Fight About

Many couples assume the problem lies in what they argue about: money, parenting, housework, sex, in-laws. But often, it’s how these conversations unfold that causes the real hurt. Do you feel heard? Do you feel safe? Can you find your way back to each other when things get tense? Or do you walk on eggshells, go quiet, or lash out?

Sometimes, we repeat what we saw growing up—shouting matches, stony silences, walking away. Or maybe your childhood didn’t allow open expression, and now you feel frozen when conflict arises. These early templates can show up in your current relationship without you even realising it.

What Arguments Often Mask

Underneath repeated arguments, there's often something softer—something more vulnerable. Maybe it’s the fear of not being appreciated, of being abandoned, or of never quite feeling good enough. When couples fight, they’re rarely just angry—they’re hurt, scared, lonely, or misunderstood.

Arguments can become the battleground where deeper needs try to speak: 'Do I matter to you?', 'Can I trust you?', 'Will you stay?'

Stress and anxiety can amplify this. When overwhelmed, your nervous system might default to fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. This makes it even harder to slow down and connect.

How We Handle Conflict Reflects Our Blueprint

Our early relationships give us a blueprint—an internal guide—for what love, closeness, and safety feel like. If those early bonds were unpredictable or emotionally unsafe, it can shape how you connect today.

Some people become hyper-vigilant in relationships, always on alert for signs of disconnection. Others distance themselves, struggling to trust or open up. And for some, closeness feels comforting—they can stay emotionally regulated even in conflict. These patterns are often described through attachment styles: anxious, avoidant, secure.

But they’re not fixed labels—they’re stories your nervous system tells itself to stay safe. And stories can be re-written.

Trust, Betrayal and How We Lose Each Other

It’s rarely the conflict itself that breaks trust, but how it’s handled. When one person consistently shuts down or becomes critical, or when a partner’s needs are dismissed, the emotional bond begins to fray.

Affairs, secrets, and betrayals don’t usually come out of nowhere. Often, they grow in the silence—when loneliness builds, when emotional needs go unmet, when the space between two people feels too wide to cross.

Rebuilding after betrayal is hard, but not impossible. It requires honesty, time, and the willingness to be uncomfortable. It’s about slowly finding your way back to each other—not just with words, but with action, consistency, and presence.

Neurodivergence and Conflict

When one or both partners are neurodivergent—autistic, ADHD, sensory-sensitive—it can add another layer to how conflict is experienced. You might process emotions differently, need more time to respond, or feel overwhelmed by too much verbal input. Misunderstandings can easily occur, especially if each person’s regulation needs are different.

It’s important to know that neurodivergence is not the problem. The challenge often lies in navigating different emotional rhythms and communication styles. Respecting each other’s needs—like alone time, movement, or directness—can reduce anxiety and create more trust.

So What Helps?

• Learn to notice what’s beneath the anger—are you lonely, hurt, or scared?

• Slow the conversation down when it gets too much. Pausing isn’t giving up.

• Create small rituals of connection—check-ins, hugs, shared moments that soothe.

• Practice staying present when your partner shares. You don’t have to fix it, just stay.

• If patterns keep repeating, consider seeking help. Therapy isn’t just for crisis—it’s for growing insight and connection.
  
  No couple is perfect. But relationships don’t need perfection—they need honesty, curiosity, and the willingness to keep turning towards each other.
  
  You can learn to fight better. To argue with care. To make space for both your needs. Conflict isn’t the enemy—disconnection is. And even in the messiest moments, there’s always a way back.

Wishing you good mental health in the meantime

Self-care :What does it really mean?

Self- Care that works ( Especially when you are carrying too much)

We’re often told to “take care of ourselves.” But what does that even mean when life is already full of pressure, people’s needs, deadlines, complicated relationships, emotional weight?

For some, self-care feels like a luxury. For others, it’s confusing or unfamiliar. Especially if you’re used to holding everything together for everyone else.

But real self-care isn’t a reward for burning out. It’s a way of being in relationship with yourself ,especially when you feel disconnected, overwhelmed, or unsure where to even begin.

When You Struggle to Say What You Need

If you’ve spent years putting other people’s needs first — in your family, your relationships, or your job, it might feel unnatural to check in with your own. This can be especially true in caring roles, or when you’ve had to grow up quickly.

You might not even know what your needs are, or feel guilty for having them.

That doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means your body and mind have adapted to survive — maybe by staying quiet, keeping the peace, or appearing strong. But long-term, that can lead to stress, anxiety, low self-worth, and a deep sense of loneliness.

Self-care might start with something really small:
What do I need right now?”
What am I pretending is fine when it really isn’t?”

This isn’t about becoming selfish. It’s about learning how to be in honest communication with yourself — and over time, with others too.

When Relationships Feel Like Work

It’s common to find relationships draining when communication hasn’t always felt safe. Maybe you struggle to trust people fully. Or you feel distant from your partner. Or stuck in the same loop, wanting connection, then pulling away when it gets too much.

For some people, being around others can be overstimulating or exhausting ,whether you are neurotypical or even more so, neurodivergent. You might overthink every conversation or feel unsure how to express what’s going on inside.

Self-care here isn’t about fixing the relationship straight away. It’s about creating space for your own truth.
Asking yourself:
“What am I not saying?”
“What’s the story I tell myself when someone pulls away or gets upset?”
“Where do I go — in my head, in my body — when I feel unsafe?”

Healthy communication starts with self-awareness. And you don’t have to get it perfect. You just have to get honest.

When You're Supporting a Parent / others (and Quietly Falling Apart)

Caring for a parent — especially one who’s ill — can bring up old family dynamics, unspoken emotions, and huge amounts of emotional labour. You might feel like you can’t afford to fall apart, or that you need to be the “strong one” for everyone else.

And yet, you’re also grieving. Grieving the change. Grieving the roles you used to play. Grieving the fact that no one’s asking how you are.

Self-care here might be messy and imperfect. It might look like letting a friend in, even slightly. Or stepping out of the room to cry. Or saying, just once: “This is hard for me too.”

You don’t have to abandon yourself to care for someone else. You can hold both.

When Work Leaves You Drained

If your work environment is full of tension, poor boundaries, or ongoing conflict, it’s easy to feel stuck in a cycle of proving yourself, avoiding confrontation, or managing everyone’s emotions but your own.

This can be especially difficult if you’re someone who masks well, blends in, or avoids conflict to stay safe — something common in diverse, neurodivergent, or marginalised groups.

Self-care here might look like

• protecting your energy.

• Saying no without apologising.

• Taking breaks, even when your brain says you haven’t “earned” them.

• Or simply recognising when something isn’t sustainable — and giving yourself permission to name that.

You are allowed to have limits. You’re allowed to be uncomfortable. And you’re allowed to want something more.

Wishing you good mental health in the meantime