You know that moment when you hear your mother’s exact words coming out of your mouth? Last week, I caught myself mid-sentence telling my daughter to “stop being so sensitive” when she cried over a broken crayon.
The irony hit me like a freight train. I’d spent years in therapy unpacking how those same words had taught me to stuff down my feelings as a kid.
We all do it. We promise ourselves we’ll be different parents, better parents, nothing like the ones who raised us.
We read the books, follow the gentle parenting accounts, stock up on feelings charts and calm-down corners. But somehow, by the time our kids hit those tween years, we find ourselves acting out the very patterns we swore we’d break.
The truth is, those old scripts run deeper than we think. And recognizing them? That’s where the real work begins.
1. Overcompensating with permissiveness
If your parents were strict about everything, you might find yourself unable to set any boundaries at all. I see this with parents who grew up with rigid rules about bedtime, food, and behavior. They swing so far in the opposite direction that their kids end up running the household by age 10.
My friend’s daughter recently told her mom she didn’t have to do homework because “you said I should follow my joy.” That’s when you know the pendulum has swung too far. Kids actually need structure. They need to know where the edges are, even if those edges are wider than the ones we had growing up.
2. Creating anxiety through constant hovering
Were you a latchkey kid who felt ignored? Now you might be that parent who can’t let their child walk to the mailbox alone. You track their every movement, solve every problem before they even know it exists, and essentially become a human bubble wrap machine.
Laura Markham, Ph.D., puts it perfectly: “We may have learned plenty of good things from our parents, but we hurt our children when we fail to recognize the ways we repeat the maladaptive treatment of our parents.”
The hovering doesn’t protect them. It just transfers your childhood wounds into their anxiety about not being capable enough.
3. Emotional dumping on your kids
If your parents were emotionally distant, you might overshare with your kids in an attempt to be “open” and “honest.” But there’s a difference between being emotionally available and making your 11-year-old your therapist.
I’ve caught myself starting to explain adult worries to my five-year-old, thinking I’m being transparent. But kids aren’t equipped to handle our grown-up anxieties about money, relationships, or that weird mole we’re getting checked next week.
4. Perfectionism dressed as “high standards”
Growing up, nothing was ever good enough in my house. An A wasn’t celebrated because it should have been an A+. Now I find myself praising my kids constantly but then adding little corrections. “Great job on that drawing! Maybe next time you could stay inside the lines better?”
That’s not encouragement. That’s perfectionism wearing a smiley face mask, and kids see right through it.
5. Using different harsh tactics
Maybe your parents yelled, so you never raise your voice. But instead, you’ve mastered the art of the silent treatment or the disappointed sigh that cuts deeper than any shout ever could.
Kimberly Ann Kopko, child development expert, warns that “Harsh parenting may work in the short term as a mechanism for controlling behavior, but it has negative downstream consequences for children.”
The methods might look different, but the impact remains the same.
6. Living through your children
Your parents never let you take dance classes? Now your kid has ballet, tap, jazz, and hip-hop whether they want it or not. You’re giving them everything you wished you had, except the one thing they actually need: the freedom to choose their own interests.
Last month at the farmers market, I overheard a dad telling his son about all the sports he “gets” to play this season. The kid looked exhausted just listening to the list.
7. Avoiding all conflict
If your house was full of fighting, you might do anything to keep the peace now. But kids need to see healthy conflict resolution. They need to know that people can disagree, work through it, and still love each other.
When we pretend everything is always fine, we’re not protecting them. We’re just teaching them that conflict is so scary it must be avoided at all costs.
8. Flip-flopping between extremes
Monday you’re strict about screen time because that’s what good parents do. Tuesday you’re exhausted and hand over the iPad because your parents never let you watch TV and look how deprived you felt. Wednesday you feel guilty about Tuesday and overcorrect again.
Kids need consistency more than they need perfection. Pick a middle ground you can actually maintain.
9. Never admitting mistakes
Maybe your parents never apologized, so you apologize for everything, even things that aren’t your fault. Or perhaps they admitted too much weakness, so you present yourself as infallible to provide stability.
Either extreme teaches kids unhealthy relationship patterns. Real strength comes from being able to say, “I messed up, and here’s how I’m going to do better.”
Breaking the cycle starts with awareness
Here’s what I’m learning: we can’t run from our childhood. Those patterns are baked into us like ingredients in bread. But once we see them, really see them, we can start making different choices.
Some days I nail it. Other days I hear my mother’s anxiety in my voice or feel my father’s emotional distance creeping in. The difference is that now I notice. I can stop mid-sentence, take a breath, and try again.
Our kids don’t need perfect parents. They need parents who are aware enough to catch themselves, brave enough to do the work, and humble enough to keep trying. The patterns might be inherited, but they don’t have to be permanent.
Every time we choose differently, every time we pause before reacting from that old script, we’re literally rewiring generations of programming.
And that broken crayon moment? I went back, sat with my daughter, and told her it was okay to feel sad about small things. Because feelings don’t have sizes, and neither does healing.
