Afterthought #4: Breaking the Echo

It stops with me

If you got a chance to read my latest post, you know I grew up under my mother’s mental pacifier.

She was always there to buffer the impact. To protect. To reassure. Often to be hope itself. It was a role she had practiced her entire life, dating back to her own childhood.

The problem was not the care.

It was the reflex.

When “it’s ok” became automatic, reassurance slowly turned into denial.

White noise we learned to tune out at best, and distrust at worst.

Often, we resented it.

As if we knew it was coming before it was said.

That’s why I was determined to break the cycle as a father.

It didn’t come easily.

I was conditioned to see around corners for danger. Growing up under missiles and terrorism does that to you. I projected my fears onto my kids and told myself it was protection. The world is dangerous, and it’s my job to keep them safe. Right?

What I didn’t realize was that I was living inside an echo I disliked as a child.

My wife saw it more clearly than I did.

Let them fail.
Let them be sad.
Don’t fix it.

Simple advice. Hard to live.

I hate watching my kids struggle. I hate seeing disappointment land. I hate not stepping in. But I also know that constant protection did me no favors. I understand where my mother was coming from. What parent wouldn’t?

Still, growth requires space. Including my own.

I can watch from the sidelines. I can be there when they come to me. But I can’t shield them from everything. And I can’t make everything “ok.”

Not always.

So this echo stops here.

And that is ok.