Growing up, I remember the exact sound my father’s car made pulling into our gravel driveway. My stomach would instantly knot up, and I’d quickly scan my room to make sure everything was in its place.
Homework visible on the desk? Check. Bed made with military precision? Check. No toys on the floor? Triple check.
My parents weren’t cruel, but they ran our small Midwest home like a tight ship. There were rules for everything, consequences were swift, and “because I said so” ended most discussions.
Now, watching my own kids scatter Legos across the living room floor, I sometimes catch myself mid-sentence, about to repeat those same rigid patterns I swore I’d never use.
If you grew up with strict parents like I did, you might recognize this internal tug-of-war. We want to do things differently, yet those old patterns have a sneaky way of surfacing, especially when we’re stressed or overwhelmed.
After years of working through my own childhood patterns and observing other parents with similar backgrounds, I’ve noticed we tend to display certain behaviors—some as overcorrections, others as unconscious repetitions.
1. We swing between being too permissive and suddenly too strict
Ever find yourself letting things slide for days, then suddenly exploding over something minor? That’s the pendulum swing many of us experience.
Last week, I let my kids have extra screen time three days in a row because I felt guilty about working late. Then on day four, when my daughter asked for just ten more minutes, I completely lost it. The inconsistency confused her (and honestly, it confused me too).
When we grow up with rigid boundaries, we often rebel by having almost no boundaries with our own kids. But then anxiety creeps in.
Are we being too lenient? Are our kids going to turn out spoiled? So we overcorrect, implementing sudden strict rules that seem to come out of nowhere.
The key I’m learning is to find that middle ground—setting consistent, reasonable boundaries without the iron fist approach. It’s harder than it sounds when you don’t have a balanced model from your own childhood.
2. We constantly second-guess our parenting decisions
If you were told there was only one right way to do things, then you probably know how that programming runs deep. Now as parents, we can become paralyzed by choices.
Should I let them quit piano lessons? Is this consequence too harsh? Too soft?
I’ve spent countless nights scrolling parenting forums, desperate for someone to tell me the “right” answer.
The irony is that growing up, I promised myself I’d trust my instincts as a parent. Yet here I am, doubting every decision because deep down, I’m terrified of messing up the way I felt my parents did.
This constant second-guessing stems from never being allowed to make mistakes as kids. We were expected to get it right the first time, every time. Now we apply that same impossible standard to our parenting.
3. We struggle with allowing our kids to fail
When you grow up where failure meant harsh consequences or withdrawal of love, watching your own children struggle becomes almost unbearable.
My son recently wanted to enter a science fair with a project I knew wasn’t quite ready. Every fiber of my being wanted to take over, to “help” until it was perfect.
Instead, I bit my tongue and let him present it as-is. He didn’t win, but the pride on his face when he explained his work to the judges taught me something my strict upbringing never did: failure isn’t the end of the world.
We often become helicopter parents not from a place of control, but from a desperate desire to protect our kids from the shame and criticism we experienced. Yet by swooping in to save them, we rob them of developing the very resilience we wish we’d had.
4. We have difficulty expressing emotions appropriately
“Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” How many of us heard that growing up?
In strict households, emotions were often seen as weakness or defiance.
Now I find myself uncomfortable when my kids express big emotions. My first instinct is to shut it down, to make it stop.
But then I catch myself. Is their crying really the problem, or is it triggering my own suppressed emotions from childhood?
Sometimes I go the opposite direction, becoming overly emotional myself because I finally feel “allowed” to have feelings. Neither extreme serves our children well. They need to see us model healthy emotional expression—something many of us are still learning ourselves.
5. We either avoid all conflict or create unnecessary battles
Growing up, every disagreement felt like a potential disaster. Maybe you learned to be a people-pleaser like me, avoiding conflict at all costs. Or perhaps you became defensive, ready to fight over everything.
With my own kids, I notice both patterns. Some days I let them walk all over me because I can’t bear the thought of being the “mean parent.” Other days, I dig my heels in over ridiculous things—like whether they wear the blue shirt or the red one—because something inside me panics at the thought of losing control.
Finding the balance between being authoritative without being authoritarian is an ongoing challenge when you’ve only experienced the extremes.
6. We have trouble setting and maintaining healthy boundaries
Boundaries in strict homes were often walls—rigid, non-negotiable, and without explanation. Now, the word “boundary” itself might make you cringe.
I’ve noticed I either have boundaries that are too rigid (no snacks after 3 PM, period) or too wishy-washy (well, okay, just this once… again). The concept of flexible, age-appropriate boundaries that can be discussed and occasionally adjusted kinda feels like foreign territory.
What’s helping me is remembering that boundaries aren’t punishments. They’re loving guidelines that help kids feel secure. But unlearning decades of boundary-related anxiety takes time and patience with ourselves.
7. We project our own childhood fears onto our children
When my daughter didn’t get invited to a classmate’s birthday party, I was devastated. She shrugged it off, but I spent days worrying about her social life, remembering my own childhood isolation when I didn’t meet my parents’ standards.
We often see our children through the lens of our own childhood wounds. Every struggle they face reminds us of our own pain, and we either overreact or try to shield them from experiences that might actually be growth opportunities.
Breaking the cycle takes time
If you recognize yourself in these patterns, welcome to the club. We’re all trying to parent our children while simultaneously reparenting ourselves. Some days we nail it, other days we fall back into old patterns.
What matters is that we’re aware, we’re trying, and we’re willing to apologize when we mess up—something many of our parents never did. Every time we choose connection over control, or understanding over ultimatums, we’re rewriting the script for the next generation.
The goal isn’t perfect parenting. It’s conscious parenting, where we recognize our triggers, work through our own stuff, and give our kids the emotional safety we craved. That’s how we break the cycle, one imperfect day at a time.
