You're Going to Screw Up Your Kids
And it's okay, even expected. You're human.
Welcome to Beyond Self Improvement issue #129. Every other Wednesday, I share an essay with practical ideas on finding personal freedom in an unfree world.
I appreciate your patience as I publish this essay more than a week later than intended.
Dear Friend:
Day 2 of our 12-day road trip.
Two days of driving, poor sleep, crowded redwood trails, and a triggering text from a family member at 7 am. I began taking my frustration out on my partner in front of my stepkids while hiking along a poorly-marked trail.
After two hours, my stepdaughter finally yelled, "Would you guys stop bickering! It's so annoying!"
That familiar voice started: "Great job. You're ruining her vacation, and it's only the second day."
Here's what I wish someone had told me years ago: You're going to screw up your kids. This isn't a prediction. It's a fact.
We've been taught to believe that perfect parenting produces perfect kids. But it's not true. Perfect parenting doesn't exist, and attempting it makes everything worse.
Here's what happens: You lose your temper at dinner. Instead of owning it, you pretend it didn't happen because "good parents don't yell." Your kid learns that mistakes should be hidden, not handled. When they mess up at school, they lie about it. The cycle begins.
What would it be like to talk to ourselves as we would a friend? When you snap at your kid, instead of saying to yourself, "I'm the worst parent ever," try saying, "I had a difficult moment. I'm human. I will do my best to do better next time." You can't guarantee that you will do better, but you can have an intention.
Most parents never give themselves this permission. They think their kids need them to be perfect at all times. But kids don't need perfect parents. They need sincere, genuine, honest ones who own their mistakes and shortcomings, in other words, their humanity.
When you mess up, repair it. "I'm sorry I yelled. You didn't deserve that. I'll try to do better next time." This teaches your kids something perfect parenting never could: how to handle mistakes with grace.
When my stepdaughter called out our bickering, she didn't need me to pretend it wasn't happening. She needed to see me own it immediately and make it right. She needed to learn that humans mess up, and relationships survive.
Children need a parent who shows them how to be imperfect and still whole, complete and worthy of love.
Our task as parents is to foster the conditions that will allow our children to develop the skills to thrive practically and spiritually while wounding them as little as possible. Not zero wounds. As little as possible. There's a huge difference.
Practically means the 'doing' realm of life: discipline, delayed gratification, resilience, time management, systematic effort, habits, critical thinking, and growth mindset. When one stepkid practiced the drums and the other the violin shortly after we got back home, they were thriving practically.
Spiritually means the 'being' realm of life: awareness, naming, surrender, concentration, acceptance, kindness, compassion, equanimity. When my stepdaughter spoke up about our bickering, she was thriving spiritually. She witnessed a situation and addressed it directly instead of staying silent. When I apologized instead of getting defensive, I modeled emotional regulation and showed my stepkids that conflict doesn't have to ruin relationships.
The road trip created a rupture where she (and my stepson) witnessed adult conflict. But the immediate repair taught them that relationships can handle difficult moments and come out with greater awareness, understanding and connection.
Your kids will have healing work to do someday. They'll work through issues that trace back to you. This doesn't make you a bad parent. It makes you a human one.
My stepdaughter might tell her future therapist about the day her parents bickered on a family road trip. She may even tell them about how the conflict got resolved immediately, how speaking up worked, and how pettiness didn't destroy a relationship.
The goal isn't to give your kids nothing to work through. The goal is to provide them with the tools to work through it. Every rupture is an opportunity to model repair. Every mistake is a chance to show them how resilient relationships work.
I know I'm contributing to my stepkids' future therapy bills. I also know I'm contributing to their practical and spiritual well-being. Both things are true.
I'm teaching them that conflict is everyday, that speaking up works, and that mistakes don't define you. I'm showing them what emotional regulation looks like and how to repair relationships when conflict arises.
This is the reality of parenting. You'll help and hurt, build up and let down, succeed and fail. All in the same day.
Stop trying to be the parent who secretly never fails. Start being the parent who fails well, transparently. Your kids are counting on you.
By the way, when I apologized to my stepdaughter, she wasn't so much annoyed as scared that we would break up like her biological parents did. That hits hard.
Reply to this message and tell me about a recent parenting "failure" that you turned into a teaching moment. I read every email.
P.S. I'm not saying all parenting mistakes are equal or that anything goes. I'm talking about everyday human moments--losing your temper, being inconsistent, having bad days. The kind of stuff that makes you spiral with guilt but gives your kids a chance to see real emotional intelligence in action.
Keep forgiving yourself,
Ryan
If this resonated, consider sharing it with someone who needs to hear it. We all know a people-pleaser who's secretly suffering.
Yep, I sure did. And I'm watching my daughter do it to her daughter. I'm just glad we're getting better at recognizing and owning it and hopefully working on it. And forgiving ourselves too.
It's counter-intuitive, isn't it? We're often taught to avoid conflict, to keep the peace at all costs. Yet, your essay makes a compelling case for the idea that "conflict is everyday," and that embracing it (and repairing it) can actually lead to greater connection. It’s a powerful, unconventional perspective. Instead of seeing arguments or disagreements as signs of a broken relationship, what if we started viewing them as necessary friction, the very grit that allows relationships to polish and strengthen?
Your example of your stepdaughter speaking up and your subsequent apology beautifully illustrates how authentic engagement, even in conflict, can build trust and deepen understanding. It moves beyond the superficial harmony to a more robust, honest connection. It's a powerful reminder that true intimacy often requires a willingness to navigate discomfort together.