Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

My mom was raised to not raise her voice. From what I understand, yelling and fussing were not acceptable behaviors in her family. She learned that being compliant and polite was the way to get through, get accolades, and get praise, and she did it well.

So when she had children and would become overwhelmed with big feelings, she chose silence. I am sure she thought there was true compassion in her choice. Rather than yelling and saying something she would later regret, she would bite her tongue and stew with her feelings. For me, her attempting to contain her feelings in that way felt avoidant, almost like she didn’t trust herself with me.

Sometimes, the silence would last for days.

As a child, I accepted this pattern. I learned to also stay silent, hold a grudge, and stay angry for a long time. Without guidance on how to move through my feelings, I learned how to gather specific details about the conflict to build my argument and be correct. I felt shame and sadness because I knew I also said and did things that were hurtful, but wasn’t shown how to resolve the conflict or address the lingering feelings of hurt, confusion, anger, guilt, and shame.

When I had my daughter, I was determined to break this pattern: conflict, hurt, silence. But first, I had to see that there was a pattern, not only in the way I experienced conflict with my parents but how I was repeating the pattern as a mother.

So much of how we show up in our adult relationships – parent-child, between romantic partners, or even between coworkers – is a repetition of patterns. Patterns that were established when we children, with our parents, caregivers, and siblings.

Sometimes it feels like it’s on autopilot. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. An unconscious habit. We utilize coping mechanisms that got us through when we were young, but may not be serving us any longer.

For me, getting a whiff that I was repeating a pattern, and realizing that I did not have the tools and skills to work through big feelings differently (and therefore, did not have tools and skills to model and teach my child), was a significant ‘aha’ moment.

I knew I needed help.

And once I (hesitantly!) asked for help by reading books, listening to videos and podcasts, researching, and connecting with therapists and coaches, I started to loosen the reins of my destructive patterns, allowed for some space and healing, and started rewriting my script consciously.

It is an art. It is a dance. It is a back and forth.

…To see the patterns of your childhood repeat with your interactions with your children.

…To mend the fractures within so you have the strength to heal the fractures with your child.

…To tend to the wounds from being unseen, unheard, unvalidated, dismissed…to be able to see, hear, validate, and embrace yourself as well as your child.

As I continue on my conscious journey, it is an honor to help others on theirs.