Hard Truths In Therapy This Week

Doing Our Best Isn't Always Enough & That's Okay!

I had some idea of what I wanted to write about this week; the challenge was how to write about it without sharing in a way that would make my family uncomfortable. I’m gonna give it a shot, and if you’re reading this, it means I managed to walk the line.

If you listen to my podcast, read my Substack, or follow my Instagram, then you most certainly hear me talking about therapy, and sometimes I’ll share experiences or words of wisdom from my sessions.

My therapy session last week had such a significant impact on me, in so many different ways, that I feel compelled to share. The funny thing is that it wasn’t earth-shattering, revolutionary, or novel, but sometimes it’s the right moment for an idea to really hit home.

I’ll often come into therapy needing to process family life, ya know… This particular session was one of those times. Earlier in the week, one of my delicious, sweet angel children came home from school quite dysregulated and, to put it mildly, proceeded to dysregulate everyone else in the house. In these moments, the energy can get pretty intense. It takes an insane amount of presence and determination to stay regulated and steady.

Over the years, my husband and I have worked—and still work—on this. One step past “staying regulated” yourself is being able to co-regulate with your spouse. It’s so easy to say, “Lean on each other,” and, “We’re in this together,” but when you experience the number of extreme behaviors that we do, and the frequency with which they occur, it’s so easy to go into survival mode. Since emotions are heightened, we may each have different ways of approaching the situation, and it’s so normal to “turn” on each other. This time, we happened to do a pretty good job. There was one sticky moment, but we recovered quickly. So, part of the session was spent talking about co-regulation and common responses that can happen in these moments. But that wasn’t even the most intense part of our session–I’ll get to that in a moment.

There comes a point in these scenarios when the kids start to trigger each other: hurtful things are said, resentments are aired, past hurts and traumas are brought up, and there’s a lot of pain and confusion. Watching this go down as a parent is heartbreaking, and you still have to juggle compassion, empathy, and boundaries. They are all right, and they are all wrong—it’s not an easy jungle to navigate. This is what my therapist and I discussed in great detail.

Thins are getting real when the whiteboard comes out mid-sesh.

For some context: I’ve had the same therapist for eleven years, which means he has solid knowledge about our challenges. He is also a straight shooter and tells me like it is, without reservations. There’s not a lot of coddling happening in my sessions ;), but there is deep respect and understanding for my reality. Anyway… we ended up discussing the reality that, if we are being frank and honest, “There have been times when the need of a child was not met.” Sometimes, providing a safe environment for one child while they are struggling might make another child feel unsafe.

Honestly, that was really hard to hear, and I felt a lot of shame coming up. Knowing that doing our best isn’t always enough for our kids is a hard pill to swallow, but it’s true. I was gently encouraged to be with the shame, to honor it—when what I really wanted was to shut it down so fast.

If you think the torture was over, it didn’t stop there. We then talked about the possibility of actually discussing this with the kids (the ones it applied to at this moment). The conversation would go something like: “I recognize there were times that you might’ve needed something and didn’t receive it. I can only imagine how hard or scary that might’ve been for you.”

Every part of me wanted to run for the hills. It’s a special kind of raw vulnerability to admit or recognize that you couldn’t always do right by your child. We talk so much about inner-child work, when you honor and acknowledge your inner child for yourself—and here I am, being challenged to do it with my child in real time. My intellectual brain understands the beauty and value of this, but my emotional self-preservation instincts wanted to throw up. It’s hard to articulate the depth and range of emotions that transpired in this session, but if you’ve experienced something like this, you know what I’m talking about.

At the end of the day, knowing there is something I can do as a parent that could help my child in the present and in the future (obviously not a guarantee), I’m going to do it. So, I did it. And I’m alive. I’m okay ;). Even though it’s so hard to do, I think it will be something I try to incorporate when needed. It didn’t end up being a long emotional conversation with that child, but I could see the brief relief and appreciation on their face when they felt like their experience was validated and recognized. And for those three seconds, it was worth it—because those three seconds will mean something to them for the rest of their life.

I hope that I can continue to honor my children’s experiences as they see them, however painful it is for me, because that’s the job I proudly and willingly signed up for. Even though we really have no idea what being a parent means when we are young and naive :), I would do it again over and over.

And remember, we must not forget to tend to our tender mama hearts.

Chavie