Inside a Parent’s Mind: The Push and Pull of Showing Up Every Day

Becoming a parent was always a dream—one I held close to my heart long before it became real. My love for my children runs deep, almost as if it’s woven into the fabric of who I am. They are my world, my joy, my purpose.

And yet, parenting isn’t always peaceful. It’s not just soft lullabies and cozy cuddles. It’s a journey that brings out the very best in me… and sometimes, the hardest parts too. There are days I crave space, silence, a moment to breathe without being needed. And then—almost instantly—I find myself longing for them again. Parenting often feels like living on a seesaw, constantly shifting between presence and overwhelm.

I love them fiercely. They come before everything. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get angry or exhausted. I try to be patient, but I have my limits. I try to stay loving, even when I feel stretched thin. And still, I show up—because that’s what we do. That’s what it means to be a parent.

Cherishing joyful moments together as a family, sharing smiles and love in every cuddle.

But beneath the layers of “mom,” I’m also many other things. A person with dreams, thoughts, needs, and a voice of my own. Sometimes, those parts of me fade into the background. And that’s when the internal tug-of-war begins.

I find myself silently asking:

• Who am I—outside of being a parent?

• Why does it feel like I’m doing it all alone sometimes?

• Why can’t they just listen the first time?

• Why does the work feel endless.

Through my professional journey, I’ve had the privilege of working with many parents—each one navigating their own complex world. And what I’ve learned is this: every parent, no matter how different their circumstances, shares one truth. They are trying. They are learning. And in their own quiet ways, they are growing.

Over time, I’ve come to realize that one of the most important parts of this work—of parenting, guiding, and supporting others—is not just about strategies or solutions. It’s about reflection. It’s about slowing down enough to look inward, to not just focus on our child, but to meet ourselves.

Because parenting isn’t about “fixing” our children—it’s about discovering who we are in the process of raising them.

One of the recurring themes I often explore with parents is the idea of power—and the emotional stories we carry around it.

Who holds the power in a moment of conflict?

Why does it feel like we’re constantly losing it?

And what are we truly afraid of when things feel out of control?

Children, in their truest form, seek freedom. They don’t resist out of spite. They resist because they’re wired to explore, to test, to push boundaries. It’s how they grow. It’s how they figure out the world. And beneath that spirited behavior is a longing—a longing for connection. They want their trusted adult to stay close, to be with them, even through the storm.

As parents, we crave calm. We hope for cooperation. We dream of days when everything flows smoothly. But children rarely follow the timelines we mentally script. Their need for freedom disrupts our need for order—and that disruption, though natural, often leaves us feeling powerless.

And when we feel powerless, we react. We yell. We withdraw. We disconnect. Not because we’re bad parents, but because we’re human. In those moments, the emotional balance quietly shifts. The child becomes the emotional center of the room—not because they are in control, but because we’ve emotionally handed over the reins.

But the truth is, parenting isn’t about winning or losing power. It’s not about control. It’s about connection.

So maybe the real question isn’t “Who holds the power?” but rather, “How can we share it—with love?”

Because when we stay grounded, we give our children the space to be fully themselves—curious, messy, expressive—and we give ourselves permission to be human too.

There will always be tension. There will always be moments when we question ourselves. But within that messiness lies something beautiful: an invitation to pause, to reflect, to see our children not as challenges to manage, but as mirrors helping us meet parts of ourselves we may have forgotten.

In the end, it’s not about being perfect.

It’s about showing up.

It’s about staying connected.

It’s about becoming, alongside the very children we’re raising.