Dear Erin, spot on as per your usual. I ventured out just this past Monday to see our family therapist/psychologist - usually it’s my wife that sees her once a month though sometimes we go together, or on occasion I might go on my own. She’s been a trusted source for our family for probably 6 if not 7 years at this point. But something we talked about at extent was how important it is to remain as the parent - as the one in charge - when sharing our feelings or personal struggles with our children. In essence we talked about the challenge around being authentic and real… and not over-burdening our sons and daughters with responsibility, direct blame, or needless baggage. So no… we don’t need to come across as perfect… but we are indeed tasked with remaining as dependable and steadfast as possible. Thanks for cementing this in.
Though another thought I had while reading this is that I often think to myself that the main difference between kids and so many adults is only in how they dress and the price of their toys. Obviously tongue in cheek to some degree and yet it comes back to that maturity word… perhaps emotional maturity first and foremost.
Being authentic without handing off weight that doesn’t belong to our kids is exactly the tension I was circling. Kids rest easier when they know the adults in the room are still carrying the load.
It sounds like you and your wife have been thoughtful about that for a long time, which is no small thing. A lot of families never even have language for it.
The honesty you bring to your reflections and comments is a real gift.
Oh, and toys and clothes as the differentiator—so true!
So much of this is uncomfortable in the best way. The emotional spillage versus containment distinction especially — the way you name it as a pendulum that swung past centre rather than a correction that landed well. And the attention economy section hit differently than I expected. The image of parents refreshing feeds whilst warning their kids about the same thing isn't hypothetical anymore.
The line I keep coming back to is "our job isn't to hide our emotions. It's to show our kids what it looks like to carry them without handing them off." That feels like the hardest thing to actually do — because carrying without handing off requires you to have somewhere to put them first. For those of us who grew up between cultures, that muscle memory is often doubly absent. Many Asian households didn't model carrying — they modelled burial. Western spaces then told us the antidote was openness. So we arrived at parenthood with two incomplete templates and had to work out that neither suppression nor spillage was what we were actually looking for. We're learning to carry whilst still figuring out what carrying looks like. Which is probably why the pendulum keeps swinging — not from indifference, but from never having watched it done.
“Burial versus spillage” is exactly the tension. If we never watched someone steadily carry emotion, of course the pendulum swings. It’s not rebellion. It’s improvisation.
And I’m struck by what you said about growing up between cultures. Two incomplete templates—suppression on one side, overcorrection on the other—and then being handed kids and expected to synthesize something never modeled.
I’m grateful you added this layer, Jules. It makes the conversation richer.
Erin, so good once again. And important. The whole thing.
“When we choose short-term relief over long-term formation, our kids learn to live the same way—reacting instead of building, soothing instead of strengthening.”
From beginning to the end, so many fantastic reminders and golden nuggets. Thank you for these words of wisdom. More containment than commentary ... I will admit, I need more practice (lots more) at this one.
Erin, your unflinching call to step fully into adulthood lands like essential clarity for pragmatic mothers who've blurred boundaries in the name of vulnerability.
Containing emotions before spilling, resisting attention's pull, choosing restraint's long game over reactivity's relief? This reclamation of parental height offers the steady refuge intuitive, hands-on women know their kids quietly crave. Required reading.
“Children are not meant to help us figure out who we are—even if raising them inevitably shapes us. We are meant to usher them into who they are becoming.
That requires height. Not dominance, but distance and perspective to see further than they can.”
This imagery is so helpful, and such a key distinction.
Just beautifully crafted as always, giving us more questions to ask ourselves and more opportunities for introspection.
So well explained! Thank you.
I appreciate that, Ashley—thank you!
Dear Erin, spot on as per your usual. I ventured out just this past Monday to see our family therapist/psychologist - usually it’s my wife that sees her once a month though sometimes we go together, or on occasion I might go on my own. She’s been a trusted source for our family for probably 6 if not 7 years at this point. But something we talked about at extent was how important it is to remain as the parent - as the one in charge - when sharing our feelings or personal struggles with our children. In essence we talked about the challenge around being authentic and real… and not over-burdening our sons and daughters with responsibility, direct blame, or needless baggage. So no… we don’t need to come across as perfect… but we are indeed tasked with remaining as dependable and steadfast as possible. Thanks for cementing this in.
Though another thought I had while reading this is that I often think to myself that the main difference between kids and so many adults is only in how they dress and the price of their toys. Obviously tongue in cheek to some degree and yet it comes back to that maturity word… perhaps emotional maturity first and foremost.
I really appreciate you sharing this, Kai.
Being authentic without handing off weight that doesn’t belong to our kids is exactly the tension I was circling. Kids rest easier when they know the adults in the room are still carrying the load.
It sounds like you and your wife have been thoughtful about that for a long time, which is no small thing. A lot of families never even have language for it.
The honesty you bring to your reflections and comments is a real gift.
Oh, and toys and clothes as the differentiator—so true!
Thank you kindly Erin, I know I said this before but your insights and essays are genuinely a cut above. Truly appreciate you and your work.
So much of this is uncomfortable in the best way. The emotional spillage versus containment distinction especially — the way you name it as a pendulum that swung past centre rather than a correction that landed well. And the attention economy section hit differently than I expected. The image of parents refreshing feeds whilst warning their kids about the same thing isn't hypothetical anymore.
The line I keep coming back to is "our job isn't to hide our emotions. It's to show our kids what it looks like to carry them without handing them off." That feels like the hardest thing to actually do — because carrying without handing off requires you to have somewhere to put them first. For those of us who grew up between cultures, that muscle memory is often doubly absent. Many Asian households didn't model carrying — they modelled burial. Western spaces then told us the antidote was openness. So we arrived at parenthood with two incomplete templates and had to work out that neither suppression nor spillage was what we were actually looking for. We're learning to carry whilst still figuring out what carrying looks like. Which is probably why the pendulum keeps swinging — not from indifference, but from never having watched it done.
This is such a thoughtful way to put it.
“Burial versus spillage” is exactly the tension. If we never watched someone steadily carry emotion, of course the pendulum swings. It’s not rebellion. It’s improvisation.
And I’m struck by what you said about growing up between cultures. Two incomplete templates—suppression on one side, overcorrection on the other—and then being handed kids and expected to synthesize something never modeled.
I’m grateful you added this layer, Jules. It makes the conversation richer.
Erin, so good once again. And important. The whole thing.
“When we choose short-term relief over long-term formation, our kids learn to live the same way—reacting instead of building, soothing instead of strengthening.”
Whoa.
Thank you 🙏
From beginning to the end, so many fantastic reminders and golden nuggets. Thank you for these words of wisdom. More containment than commentary ... I will admit, I need more practice (lots more) at this one.
I’m right there with you, sister. ❤️
And…thank you!
Erin, your unflinching call to step fully into adulthood lands like essential clarity for pragmatic mothers who've blurred boundaries in the name of vulnerability.
Containing emotions before spilling, resisting attention's pull, choosing restraint's long game over reactivity's relief? This reclamation of parental height offers the steady refuge intuitive, hands-on women know their kids quietly crave. Required reading.
This is incredibly generous—thank you! Your words mean a great deal.
Giving me a lot to chew on per usual. Thanks for the continued wisdom my friend.
I appreciate you, K.S.!
Our goal is to mature, gain perspective, play the long game, and grow wise. And we are to model the way for our children.
And yet the news is full of immature adults acting irresponsibly and selfishly.
Such challenging times! We need your insights. Thank you.
Thank you, Janet.
“Children are not meant to help us figure out who we are—even if raising them inevitably shapes us. We are meant to usher them into who they are becoming.
That requires height. Not dominance, but distance and perspective to see further than they can.”
This imagery is so helpful, and such a key distinction.
Just beautifully crafted as always, giving us more questions to ask ourselves and more opportunities for introspection.
I’m always very thankful for Tuesdays. ❤️
Thank you, dear friend! ❤️
This is brilliant. 💕
Thank you! 🧡