There are some truths about parenting that are really hard to admit.
Not because we didn't love our children.
But because sometimes loving your child and showing up for your child are two very different things.
And I've been doing some thinking about that lately.
I've been thinking about what happens when a parent becomes emotionally unavailable.
When your child needs you, but you're distracted.
When they want your attention, but you're wrapped up in your own life.
When they are trying to tell you something, but you're too busy, too overwhelmed, too consumed with your own problems, relationships, friendships, work, or whatever else is demanding your attention.
And sometimes, without even realizing it, your child starts feeling like they're coming in second.
That one hurts to say.
Because I've been guilty of it.
I can make excuses. I can explain why I was distracted. I can tell you about the things I was dealing with, the things I was going through, the responsibilities I was carrying.
And maybe some of those things were legitimate.
But here's the uncomfortable part:
Understanding why you did something doesn't erase how it made someone else feel.
Especially your child.
Children don't always need a perfect parent.
They don't need you to have all the answers.
They don't need you to be available every second of every day.
But they do need to feel like they matter.
They need to know that when they reach for you, you're willing to reach back.
And when they repeatedly feel like friends, relationships, social lives, work, or other priorities are getting the best version of you while they get what's left over…
That can leave a mark.
And I don't think we talk about that enough.
Sometimes a parent can be physically present and still be emotionally absent.
You're sitting in the same room, but your mind is somewhere else.
You're listening, but you're not really hearing.
You're responding, but you're not connecting.
You're there…
But you're not there.
And children notice.
They may not have the words for it when they're little.
But they feel it.
They learn what they can expect from you.
They learn whether their problems are worth bringing to you.
They learn whether they have to compete for your attention.
And eventually, they may stop asking.
That's the part that scares me.
Because sometimes we think we're doing okay because our children aren't complaining anymore.
But maybe they're not complaining because they've learned not to expect anything.
That's a hard truth to sit with.
And I'm sitting with it.
I'm not writing this because I have parenting figured out.
Quite the opposite.
I'm writing it because I'm realizing that sometimes accountability looks like admitting:
“I could have done better.”
Not “I'm a terrible mother.”
Not “I ruined everything.”
Not “There's no fixing it now.”
Just:
I could have done better.
And maybe I still can.
Because here's something I believe with my whole heart:
It's never too late to start showing up differently.
Maybe your child is grown.
Maybe you've missed moments you can never get back.
Maybe there are conversations you wish you'd had years ago.
Maybe there are times you chose something—or someone—else when your child needed you.
You can't go back.
And that's one of the hardest things about being a parent.
We don't get to rewind.
But we can acknowledge.
We can listen.
We can apologize without adding a giant “but…” afterward.
We can stop defending ourselves long enough to hear what our child is actually trying to tell us.
We can say:
“I didn't realize how much that hurt you.”
“I'm sorry I wasn't there the way you needed me to be.”
“I can't change what happened, but I can change what I do from here.”
And then comes the hardest part…
We have to actually do it.
Because an apology without changed behavior eventually becomes just another broken promise.
Our children don't need us to be perfect.
They need us to be present.
They need to know that they aren't competing with our friends, our relationships, our phones, our careers, our problems, or our own need to escape life for a little while.
They need to know:
I'm important to you.
You hear me.
You see me.
You matter.
And if I'm being completely honest, I wish I'd understood some of this sooner.
I wish I'd recognized that sometimes the little things weren't so little.
That a child asking for your attention isn't necessarily being needy.
Sometimes they're asking:
“Do I matter to you?”
And maybe that's the question we should be answering every single day.
Not with words.
With our actions.
So this isn't a post about blaming parents.
It's a post about looking in the mirror.
Because I'm looking in mine.
And I'm realizing that sometimes the person I need to forgive isn't my child for being hurt…
It's myself for not knowing then what I know now.
And then, instead of staying stuck in guilt, I need to do something with that knowledge.
Show up.
Listen.
Make time.
Put the phone down.
Choose the conversation.
Choose the uncomfortable moment.
Choose my child.
Not just when it's convenient.
Not just when nobody else needs me.
But because they are my child, and they should never have to wonder whether they matter.
Maybe we can't change the years behind us.
But we can make damn sure the years ahead look different.
And maybe that's what growing as a parent really is.
Not pretending we got it all right.
But having the courage to say:
“I see it now. I'm sorry. And I'm going to do better.”
