Look, I’m not here to sugarcoat things. You’re strong enough to hear some tough truths, so let’s dive in. The people who raised you, they made mistakes. And if you’re the oldest child like me, you probably got the first draft of their parenting, complete with the stumbles and lessons they hadn’t learned yet. It’s not fair, and it’s definitely not easy. You didn’t get a say in what you were taught, or in the habits you picked up by being around them every day. But at some point, we all have to take responsibility for who we are, independent of the families we grew up in. We owe it to ourselves to become the people we want to be, no matter what hand we were dealt.
Every morning, you have a choice to define yourself. You can choose kindness, compassion, humility—everything that shapes us into better people. But to do this, we’ve got to acknowledge the weight that family dynamics can place on us. So many of today’s struggles stem from broken families and absent parents. Kids who grow up in an unstable environment often carry scars—identity struggles, low self-esteem, and this aching feeling of being lost. And for a lot of us, these issues boil down to what’s often labeled as “daddy issues.” Tough to hear, isn’t it? But it’s a real thing, and ignoring it doesn’t help us. I know, because I’ve been there. I had both daddy and mommy issues, and they crept right into my early adulthood, leaving me fumbling with trust, intimacy, boundaries, and confidence.
This isn’t a pity party; I’m sharing this because healing starts with honesty. Once you can face these things, you can start to change them. For me, understanding these issues transformed my marriage. Let’s use my husband for example. He loves his alone time—it’s how he recharges, how he gets perspective and comes back even stronger. But at first, I couldn’t handle it. I would panic when he needed space, not even fully knowing why. Turns out, it was my abandonment issues bubbling up. I had this constant fear of being left, of not being good enough. But I finally confronted that fear, and it changed everything. Now, Dallon gets his time to himself, and I get mine to grow as my own person too. When we come back together, our relationship is richer and more resilient because we’ve both had the space to be whole individuals.
Yes, many of us have wounds that weren’t our choice—especially if we came from homes that were broken or unsteady. It’s hard to admit, but facing it is the only way we can move forward. There’s no rewinding, but we can choose to stop the cycle. Fixing ourselves doesn’t just improve our own lives; it has this ripple effect. It makes a difference for our kids, our families, and everyone around us. Because when we put in the work to heal, we’re not only growing ourselves but also giving others a healthier, better version of who we are. And that’s a legacy worth passing on.



Leave a comment