Brazil’s Broken Parents Chase Perfect Parenting

“The greatest gift you can give your children is your own healing,” says Dr. Shefali Tsabary. This sentiment resonates with many parents who grapple with self-doubt. They ask themselves if they are doing too much or not enough.

Common questions include: Am I harming my child? Am I being too strict or too lenient? Am I spending sufficient time with them? Do I offer too much help, or should I offer more? Parents worry if a son who expresses his feelings will be taken advantage of, or if a daughter with strong boundaries will be seen as bossy. The central question often boils down to whether they should be doing more or less as a parent.

These questions frequently occupy the minds of parents who experienced childhood trauma and are now trying to heal while raising their own children. Their primary goal is often straightforward: to avoid repeating what was done to them.

Many parents report having this goal before having children. One parent recalled deciding not to have a baby until she had healed enough to avoid repeating the trauma from her own upbringing. The task seemed manageable at the time.

The intention was to always validate her son’s feelings, to be emotionally and physically present. She vowed to be compassionate, nurturing, and unconditionally loving no matter the circumstance, believing that is what all children need and deserve.

Yet, the questions and doubts began. The constant second-guessing and a nagging voice questioning if she was doing things wrong became a frequent experience. She refers to this as the “Not Good Enough” feeling.

This internal criticism persisted despite many loving actions. She wondered if she discussed feelings too often, if she should let her child resolve friend issues independently, or whether to give space or stay close when he was upset. She questioned when to intervene with a teacher or when to offer help unasked.

The effort to always be correct is exhausting. Upon reflection, two core fears often emerge beneath these worries.

The first fear is about giving too much affection. One parent makes a point of always asking her son if he wants a hug before giving one. Recently, when he was upset about school, she asked if he wanted a hug and he said no. She then asked if he wanted company or space. He asked her to just sit there.

She sat in silence, resisting the urge to fix the situation. Her mind raced with questions about whether she was doing enough, too much, or simply getting it wrong. The moment felt profound because consistent affection and comfort were not part of her own childhood. For a long time, she believed that was normal.

That belief began to change after a childhood sleepover at a friend’s house. Her friend’s mother hugged her goodnight, an experience that felt safe, warm, and easy. When she asked her own mother for a similar bedtime hug, it did not go well. Her mother became triggered and angry, suggesting she go live with the other family if she wanted a different mom.

This story is not shared to shame her mother, who also did not receive affection or nurturing. The parent believes her mother likely did not know how to give what she never had. As a child, however, she learned that her needs were too much. Such beliefs often persist into adulthood, affecting relationships and parenting.

So now, when her son declines a hug, it feels like more than a simple preference. It touches an old wound, and the “Not Good Enough” feeling intensifies.

The second, quieter fear is about whether encouraging a child to talk about feelings might set them up to be seen as weak. This self-questioning often stems from childhood. Parents had emotional needs that went unmet and are now determined to prevent their children from experiencing that same emptiness. This intention is positive.

However, a major problem exists. Many parents were never shown how to meet these emotional needs. It is likened to trying to reach a destination without a map.

A personal analogy involves a family move from Mississippi to the mountains of Southern Oregon. Making that drive with no directions, GPS, or guide would likely result in wrong turns, getting lost, and frustration, though one would probably arrive eventually. The journey of parenting after trauma feels similar.

Parents know the kind of parents they want to be but lack a clear path to get there. Mistakes happen, and then they criticize themselves for those mistakes. In trying hard to give their children what they lacked, parents start to question if they are overcorrecting.

One grounding realization is that people often think children need more: more activities, opportunities, and possessions. Yet, the parent has observed children with little financially whose emotional needs were met, and they were emotionally healthy. Conversely, she has known what it is like to have material things but lack the affection, comfort, and nurturing that truly mattered.

Honestly, she would have traded many possessions to feel safe, seen, and loved. This reminder refocuses on what actually matters: not perfection, but connection.

Mistakes are unavoidable. Parents will get some things wrong. What makes the difference is that they are doing things their own parents did not do. They reflect, question, care, and are willing to change. Working on one’s own healing while raising a child matters more than getting everything right.

These parents are likely doing something meaningful that their child will carry for life. It might be apologizing after messing up, listening instead of dismissing, or trying again the next day. These actions are not small.

The parent admits to sometimes losing her temper with her son, hearing echoes of her own upbringing, and occasionally repeating harmful phrases from her childhood. However, she also notices it, sometimes immediately. This awareness allows for repair, which matters more than perfection ever will.

When parents repair relationships with their children, they teach them that mistakes are okay. They demonstrate how to take responsibility, reconnect, and build healthy relationships. This is something many parents were never taught, and it changes everything. So when the self-doubt returns, it helps to take a step back.

Remember that this is incredibly hard work. It involves parenting in a way one was never parented, learning along the way, and choosing a different path. That effort matters more than perfect execution. Parents deserve compassion, something they always deserved, and now they can give some of that compassion to themselves.

The broader discussion among family therapists supports the idea that breaking intergenerational cycles of trauma is a process focused on effort and repair, not flawless performance. They emphasize that a parent’s conscious effort to respond differently, even imperfectly, builds resilience and secure attachment in children. This therapeutic perspective reinforces that the journey of healing while parenting, filled with its questions and doubts, is itself a powerful form of change.