I’m Learning To Let Go Of The Parent I Thought I’d Be

August 6, 2026 - 18:28

If even the moms who seem to have it all together admit to regrets, what hope is there for the rest of us? That is the question I have been sitting with lately, and honestly, it is a hard one to answer. For years, I carried around a detailed mental image of the parent I was supposed to be. She was patient, crafty, and always had a calm voice. She never lost her temper over a spilled cup of milk, and she definitely never scrolled through her phone while her kid asked for the fifth time to play a board game.

That version of me did not exist. I know that now. But letting go of her has been a slow, painful process. It feels like mourning someone who never really lived. I used to think that if I just tried harder, read more parenting books, or meal-prepped better, I would finally become her. Instead, I just collected more evidence of my own failure.

The shift started when I realized that my kids were not asking for that perfect mom. They were asking for the mom who was actually in the room, even when she was tired or grumpy. They wanted the one who laughed at her own mistakes, who said sorry after yelling, who let them eat cereal for dinner sometimes. That mom was messy, but she was real. And real is what they need.

So I am learning to grieve the fantasy and embrace the reality. Some days I still catch myself reaching for that old standard, but I am getting better at putting it down. The goal is not to be the parent in my head. The goal is to be the parent in front of me, right now, with all my flaws and all my love. That is the only version my kids have ever known, and oddly enough, it might be the only one they ever wanted.