The longer I work with children and families, the more this conviction strengthens within me: we all need a mom and a dad. Period. Now, before you accuse me of trying to sell you on the traditional two-parent, heterosexual family as a panacea to all that ails our society hear me out. What I mean is that there needs to be a grown up in a child’s life who embodies the classic traits of “mom”. You know- your biggest fan. Your unconditionally loving nurturer. The one who sees your side. Maybe the only one who loves your face.
You also need a “dad”. Someone who pushes you. Someone who steers the ship. Someone who’s strength you can depend on when you are weak. The one who teaches you how to stand on your own two feet and get up when a bully knocks you down.
Of course these are ideals that only find their perfected forms in our imagination. In reality, my parents were often anything but that rosy picture. They were tired, mostly, and like the rest of us, deeply flawed in their own way. As goes the cliche, I am at a place now where I am profoundly able to withhold judgement for their failings because I have sired a brood of my own and have fallen far short. Parenting is simply hard work, and none of us can be the total parental package.
But here’s where I am going: I never realized that in addition to raising my own children, I would also be called to parent myself.
As adults we have to become mom and dad for ourselves.
With that thought in mind and before you accuse me of getting all woo woo on you, let’s consider what self-parenting may look like.
Who is the internal mother?
As above, she embodies grace and compassion. She is the one who knows your true worth, even when others may miss it. She is responsible for your care on all levels. She is the one who makes you eat a sandwich when you feel like you have no time to even breathe. She is the one who remembers that you are crazy about gerber daisies and puts them on your desk. She is the one who holds you tight when someone breaks your heart. Most importantly, she never leaves.
Let’s turn the tables. Do you have her on board? In other words, have you learned to care for and nurture your own heart and soul as our iconic mother would? A good way to take stock is to ask, “Do I give myself a break when I fail at something?” or “Do I combat the malicious voices that tell me I am worthless or stupid?”
For some of us, we had mothers who were harsh or cold. Sometimes we carry those mothers with us into adulthood and it holds us back. It makes our internal space an unsafe environment. I am reminded of an experiment where researchers asked women what they thought of their bodies and most had horrific things to say. They said things about themselves that they would never say to another human. Some of us carry this harsh internal voice everywhere we go. The good news is that as a grown adult, YOU get to choose your own mother. That is, you have the power to practice self-compassion and unconditional self-love because you are in charge of what goes on inside your noodle.
What about the internal father?
Just like the idealized depiction above, dad is strong and smart and capable. Dad isn’t better than mom, just totally different. He is the one who puts his foot down when you’re being irrational. He is the one who let’s you do crazy unsafe stuff just to prove to yourself that you can. He is the one who teaches you to stand up to the bully after mom has hugged away the hurt. You see, mom and dad are a perfect team together.
When it comes to paternal dysfunction in our real lives, many of us suffered either from overbearing and violent fathers, or simply dads who weren’t there. Harsh and micromanaging fathers may have produced a strong sense of rebellion in us as we struggled to escape their irrational grip. Conversely, some of us are processing the grief of having had absent fathers. They left us with a great chasm in our hearts that we may still long to fill. Many of us entered adulthood insecure and directionless, with little sense of ourselves because we simply didn’t have a father to help us test our mettle.
What does your “on-board father” look like? Ask, “Do I rebel or quit when life gets tough or my boss challenges me?” If your dad was absent ask, “Do I go from thing to thing to thing, or from lover to lover to lover searching for someone to fill that void in me?”
Thankfully, as a grownup YOU get to choose your father. You get to choose the voice who encourages you to push farther and fight harder and test your own limits.
I have learned that as a social worker, I need to cultivate the crucial skills necessary to parent myself. In order to stave off burnout and disillusionment, I need to mother myself. I need to care deeply for myself. I need to protect myself and my heart from the haters, including the ones within. At the same time, to prevent wallowing in despair and avoidance, I need to father myself. I need to admonish myself to face my fears, to pick up the phone and face that scary client. I need to push myself to keep learning my trade, to not get too comfortable in my union position, and to not become complacent.
If you are a helping professional, I would gently invite you to ask yourself, “Have I been meeting my own needs, primarily?” That is, have you provided that “secure base” for yourself from which you may confidently act?
I have watched many child protection workers strive and claw and clamor to protect the little bodies and hearts of the kids on their caseload, and yet they suffer tremendously on a personal level. Before we can truly help others in a sustainable way, we must become our own inner-child protection workers.