I’m Ill-equipped & So Are My Kids

By Lisa Miller

As a parent, I am all too familiar with feeling ill-equipped to handle the many roles I play in my children’s lives. As the primary caretaker in my family* I often feel flattened by the awesomeness of my responsibility to raise functioning, healthy, and happy humans. 

I’m a grown-a$$ adult. And a very capable one at that. I have healthy relationships with other adults I can depend on, I practice self-care (I exercise, eat healthily, sleep enough), I can (mostly) control my impulses, I do rewarding and challenging work that stimulates my brain, I know when and how to ask for help, I help others, I have financial resources and social capital. I am mostly okay.

And yet, I can still feel completely lost when it comes to knowing how to handle certain parenting situations. I think we all feel this way at times. It’s normal. Toss in some pandemic, some social isolation, some systemic racism, some climate disaster–I’m feeling destabilized. 

When I apply this thinking to my kids, I realize they are even less equipped than I am.

(Pause to let that fully sink in.)

They are out here dealing with some pretty intense $hit. In addition to navigating school (don’t get me started on how many students are not well-served by our current model) and relationships, they are living in a world where teen depression, anxiety, and gun violence are at an all-time high. Their brains are still developing and their executive function skills are subpar. And puberty. You get the point. They are ill-equipped to handle it all. 

Additionally, they may not have (definitely haven’t) established healthy coping mechanisms like the ones I rely on–a friend I can call who I know will give me sound advice or a workout routine that helps me stay sane. As a result, they often feel alone, misunderstood, and emotionally hijacked. 

Why, then, am I surprised when they act like feral cats? It’s confusing even to me. 

The point is it’s my job to model what it looks like to be a functioning human, to acknowledge when I am struggling, and to normalize the struggle for my kids. I don’t have all the answers and neither do they. And that’s okay. When I accept them for who they are, with all of their foibles and shortcomings, they feel loved. And love is what we all need when the weight of the world feels too heavy.

*My partner works in the corporate world; he’s an excellent parent, just not as available as I am.