How to Handle the Guilt That Comes With Being a Parent

Is it just part of the job?

Photo by Andrew Neel from Pexels

Iparted from the mother of my daughters when they were just five and two. I worried about the lasting impacts of our divorce upon them and felt a massive burden of guilt for disrupting structure and security of their family life.

After 6 years of trying to make marriage work, we parted amicably. We recognised our relationship had no long-term future and agreed we’d be happier apart, while each playing an active role in co-parenting our kids.

Try as I might to rationalise what we were doing, I still felt immense guilt. My fundamental purpose since becoming a father had been to prioritise my kids’ well-being and happiness above all else. In divorcing, we were fundamentally jeopardising that.

In The Good Men Project, Joel Phillips shares the perspective that guilt arises during divorce which can hinder our ability to parent effectively if not properly managed. He contends that if we become too permissive of our kids (to overcompensate) or hold unreasonably high expectations of ourselves as parents, it prevents us from doing our best for our kids.

I can attest to those pressures.

The guilt from divorcing has taken many years to subside — time has played a big part in that healing, and in proving that all was not lost. Thankfully the lasting effects of our divorce on the kids seem to have been negligible.

In the 20+ years since having kids I’ve learned that guilt isn’t the preserve of divorced parents. Instead it seems to be an inherent part of the role, and one that can hold great and corrosive power over us if we let it.

Guilt arises when we hold ourselves to excessively high standards or when our expectations of outcomes are unreasonably high. It strikes when we question our actions or overthink the consequences of our past.

Virtually everything I do as a parent has potential to trigger guilt if I let it:

• I vent at my kids for the mess in their bedrooms, ordering that they tidy up or face consequences — I immediately feel guilty for not allowing them to live as they see fit, or to learn the value of order and tidiness for themselves. Am I teaching them anything useful, or merely engendering resentment?
• I chastise them for poor behaviour or for being dismissive of my requests, and then feel guilty for it — though my actions were well-intentioned, have I overreacted? Why do I lose my temper so easily?
• I prevent them from going out with their friends as I know they need to study — it’s for their own good but they resent me nonetheless. I worry they’ll be marginalised by friends as a result of me denying their freedom.

The guilt isn’t always on the same scale. Sometimes it’s fleeting and at other times, lasting. Either way, it’s a tough feeling to reconcile.

Guilt as a working parent

When my kids were younger I left them with a babysitter before school. Was I denying us of quality time together, just so that I could get to work early? Did they miss me? Were they happy?

I needed that assistance in order to keep the job that supported us but I still felt guilty for it.

They’re older now and need less supervision or support. Yet I feel the same guilt when leaving for work before they’re awake, or getting home long after they’ve arrived. They only live with me for alternate weeks and I want to be around as much as possible whether I’m needed or not.

The guilt arises when I’m not meeting standards against which I measure myself. If I’m not present for my kids as much as I could be, my reward is to feel guilty.

Balancing letting go with being supportive

As my kids approach adulthood I want to encourage their independence.

They need to learn how to prioritise their time, to manage their money, do their homework, get adequate sleep, eat healthily and to do all that’s required in daily life — otherwise they face a shock to the system when they have to fend for themselves.

I want to find that elusive middle ground between freedom and support, without them feeling crowded and micromanaged, or overwhelmed and neglected as they learn how it works.

Parenting our kids as they get older seems to be a process of of gradually relinquishing control and accepting that eventually we have to let them sink or swim.

“Raising teenagers is a tug-of-war that ultimately you must lose”
Ric Elias

Surrendering to this reality has triggered guilt in me at times, even though I know it’s a necessary part of the process of raising kids.

Helping them to fit in

We can all remember the pressures of being a kid and wanting to be popular or cool. By the time we’re parents ourselves we’ve learnt that such things are meaningless — to bend and shape ourselves to be liked or appreciated by others is folly.

We want to encourage our kids to forge their own identity and to navigate the social issues and challenges of their time. Such pressures have existed for every generation, stemming from ever more-complex technologies and social pressures as the years pass.

My recent crusade has been in trying to convince my kids of the evils of social media and wasting time on their smartphones — yet, do I want to be the parent who denies my kids internet access?

If I deny them from having Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook or even from having a phone at all, am I doing them a disservice in ostracising them from their peers or protecting them from an insidious waste of their time and attention?

It feels like I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. The guilt is plentiful.

Guilt in a blended family

Divorcing and remarrying has brought new dimensions to my parental guilt-load. Fortunately this is offset by the many blessings and positive effects of a growing family.

My second wife and my kids get on well for the most part. My step-kids and I get on well too.

There are still plenty of times when I feel guilty for how I’ve handled decisions or for how I’ve acted as a parent in our amalgamated family unit.

• I’m constantly mindful of balancing the attention I give my wife and each of the kids. I want my wife to feel loved, honoured and respected as my partner. I want the kids to feel like their happiness and wellbeing remains a priority and that they’re all equally important to each other. I feel guilty when, in spite of best intentions things fall out of balance and someone feels marginalised.
• My youngest daughter resents being replaced as the baby of our family by her younger step-siblings. I pander to her, over-compensating to appease my guilt.
• I go to lengths to be a father figure to my step-kids without wanting or expecting to replace their own dad. I want to do the best by them and to enrich their lives however I can. Why do I feel guilty for trying to do a good thing? Should I feel guilty that I have more active a role in his kids lives than their dad does?
• I struggle to find the balance where my step-kids don’t feel like outsiders and where my own kids don’t feel replaced or usurped in my affections by their new siblings. Over-compensating one way or another is an ever-present danger, always with the prospect of guilt looming large.

In my view, the fundamental ethos of good parenting is to strive to do the best we can, to be the best parent we can in each given moment and in every parenting decision. We have to accept this won’t come easily, and we’ll often get it wrong. We can feel guilty when that happens, or rationalise that we did our best and move on having learnt the lesson.

Often this won’t assuage the guilt, but it helps us continue to function nonetheless.

The origins of my guilty feelings as a parent usually come from a place of self-judgment and criticism. In moments of clarity I recognise that these stem from unrealistic standards and from holding myself to more than I reasonably should.

In each scenario, there are upsides too — it helps to recognise that for each dark cloud there is usually a silver-lining that helps reduce the guilt.

Through being raised by parents who both work full-time, my kids have hopefully learned that adult life is about juggling multiple roles and doing each to the best of our ability. They’ve learned independence, resilience and an adaptability when it comes to being in new and unfamiliar environments. They’re outgoing and comfortable mixing with others. They appreciate the importance of hard work to provide a standard of living.

They’ve learned the need for self-discipline and commitment, and know that they need to do the things they have to do before the things they want to do. They’ve explored and experimented to find their gifts, and have discovered the things that bring them the most joy. They work hard and appreciate that the results they receive in life will be in direct proportion to the effort they put in.

I have a close bond with my step-kids and our combined family unit is loving, supportive and mutually accepting. There is jealousy among siblings, occasional discord and fallings-out but that’s part of life in anyfamily, not just a blended one.

Guilt is a natural part of parenting. I’ve yet to find a way of avoiding it. In some ways it’s a useful reminder of the fact that I’m always striving to do my best for my kids and often not measuring up in the process.

But all I can do is my best, and that’s okay. As Joel Phillips reminds us,

“What is your main job as a parent? My conviction is that my primary job is to prepare them for the adult world in several areas- faith, responsibility, thinking, emotions, relationships, etc. It is not to coddle them…”

That in essence is it. When we feel guilt as parents, we’re aiming for more than this — for more than is necessary and possibly more than is possible.

We aren’t superhuman. We’re flawed humans trying our best to do a difficult job. Better not to set impossible standards for ourselves and to end up feeling inadequate (or guilty) in the process.

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