Today, I screamed at my kid like I never did before. It was a typical day; he played, covered himself with sand, and naturally refused to take a shower. I pulled out all sorts of stops to try and convince him to shower. He started screaming, and I tried to stay calm. He was still screaming over my attempts to calmly talk to him. I did my best to self-regulate, but in a split second, my body reacted independently from my brain. My lungs filled up like a hot air balloon, and I let out the loudest scream a grown woman could possibly conjure. 

My husband had to remove me from the situation after reaching a point of being extremely dysregulated. I went to my room and sat on my bed, and all of a sudden, I was struck by the scariest realization. I am my mother. I was flooded with memories from my childhood. Feelings of fear, entrapment, and helplessness. Gushing thoughts of shame, regret, and guilt.

Remembering how my son froze the moment I screamed and his little body trembling in fear made me realize that I put his -oh so precious- little brain and entire nervous system under too much stress. Fight or flight. Survival mode. He didn’t know what to do, what to think, or how to calm down. He was too scared to understand, too terrified to utter a word, and in complete shock that he couldn’t even throw himself in my arms to comfort him. He was genuinely scared of me…

What was I unwillingly communicating to my son? That he had to obey my orders even if he was uncomfortable? That my love and patience will not be earned unless he is a good boy? That I have the authority to “make him” do what I want? That he had very little room to express his needs even if they seemed illogical? That my love is conditional?

It was clear. I was teaching my kid what I learned. 

Growing up with a mother who used all types of punitive measures has taught me to come up with strategies to avoid her screams and scolds. Not only that, but I have developed a wonderful assortment of issues. From anxiety and perfectionism to people-pleasing and self-criticism. Issues that, up until this day, are the background noise of my life.

I remember laying in my bed as a little kid pretending to be asleep, carefully listening to her footsteps fade away so I could get up. The sound of her car parking in front of our house made me jump out of my skin to quickly clean up and finish any chores that I might have forgotten or was too tired to do. The horror after making a mistake and trying to figure out a logical lie to cover for myself. The plans and schemes I had to come up with to protect myself from being penalized for making a mistake. For being a kid. The constant fear of coming up short, messing something up, forgetting, talking too much or too little, or being too loud or too lazy. The fear of not being good enough. The fear that turned into chronic, inexplicable anxiety.

I was hyper-vigilant. I still am…

At that moment, my toddler's screaming was extremely triggering for me. It was so hard to think clearly and dig deeper for the reason behind why I was so triggered. And that’s okay. Most parenting challenges DO NOT require immediate action, and we learn to give ourselves some grace. I had to wait for the storm inside of me to settle and accept what happened as a reality with no shame. Remorse, yes, definitely. But not shame.

Being a parent coach gave me the opportunity to sit with my feelings and get curious about my reaction. Why was his refusal so triggering for me? Was it his refusal, or was it the screaming? Do I subconsciously allow my kid to say no and genuinely accept it? Was this a consistent pattern, or was it a one-time occurrence? And many more questions that I kindly got to ask myself because I got rid of the burden of needing to be a perfect parent.

What I felt coming up for me – aside from the sensory overwhelm – was this resistance in my body towards enforcing boundaries and having to say no to something he wanted. The fear…

The fear of losing authority, the fear of being disrespected, the fear of not being good enough, the fear of disappointing him, and the fear of losing his love.

Remembering this scratched up a wound I had buried deep over time. As a child, I was constantly afraid of not being good enough, of doing something wrong, of not being seen and heard, of losing my mother’s love. I brought this wound into my parenting, and it tainted my relationship with my son. 

The thing about fear is that it shows up as anxiety. It is never clear in your brain why you are afraid. It is embedded in your nervous system, and unwillingly, it controls your actions, reactions, and thoughts.

The truth is, even though I am a certified parent coach, I still mess up my parenting. Yes, I have learned about nervous system regulation and brain science, and I still lose my sh*t. Yes, I have learned about child development and non-violent communication, and I still sometimes yell at my toddler like he is a college graduate.

Being a parent coach is NEVER about being perfect but rather about being aware—aware of your thoughts, reactions, body, feelings, and emotions. It is about being aware that something is not aligning with your values and that you need to monitor and modify it. It is about the beautiful process of repairing with your child, showing him that you are only human and that he, too, is allowed to be.

It’s also about being empowered to go on a journey of self-exploration, asking yourself the right questions to understand your triggers. To understand why sometimes you flip the lid and go crazy, why it becomes so hard for you to control your emotions, and why you revert to old patterns that you promised yourself—oh so many times—that you would never do again.

The truth is we will inevitably mess up with our kids even if we are parent coaches and I am ok with that. I know that I am not meant to heal all my childhood wounds or break ALL the cycles, even with parent coaching as my profession. And I know that what I am doing today is building a ceiling for my children so they can use it as their foundation for their parenting journey and continue to heal what I couldn’t.

Meet Your Author, Tasneem Abdelhamid

Tasneem is a Jai Certified Parent Coach, Design Manager, and writer for the Jai Institute for Parenting. As a mom of two little ones, she travels the world through her designs and writing. Nothing brings her joy more than spending time with her family and knowing that she is changing the world one parenting moment at a time.