Last weekend I finished reading Brene Brown’s book on shame: I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t). My takeaway from the book was this: unprocessed shame leads to isolation which leads to addiction; processed shame, and living a productive life, requires connection.
So, with that message in mind, I have decided to come clean about my epic parenting fail. I have decided to come clean because this blog has always been about using my life experience to shine light on subjects people often want to keep hidden: ugly divorces, custody battles, challenging children.
Because of my recent epic parenting fail, I haven’t blogged much in the past few weeks. My shame morphed into a big shadowy thing that seemed to block the space between me and my computer keyboard. So after some thought I decided that the only way to keep my personal and blogging integrity was to disclose the stupendously awful blunder I inflicted on my kids, and what I’m doing to try to fix it.
Living a Lie
When Atticus and I decided to split up, we disagreed about how and when to tell the kids. For his own reasons, Atticus wanted to wait for awhile to tell Kevin we were actually getting divorced. I disagreed with Atticus’s choice, but he was insistent, and since we planned to get Kevin together with Franny and Luca on some weekends, all of the kids had to hear the same story.
So we told a partial truth. We told them we were renting the house out because it was too expensive to live in, and we would be living in separate apartments for the next year, and then figure out what to do. In other words: this was a temporary separation for pragmatic reasons.
This was not the story I wanted to tell my kids, because in my mind it was a lie. But Atticus assured me it would just be for a couple months until Kevin was ready to hear the truth.
I started getting squirellier and squirellier. Franny thought she’d be moving back to the house she loved in a year, and Luca asked astute questions: was Atticus ever going to spend the night? Wouldn’t it be cheaper if we all lived in one apartment? Questions like that, that made me want to loofah after I heard myself give him answers that made no sense.
A few weeks ago, Atticus told me that he was going to wait till the end of the school year to tell Kevin about the divorce. He said that Kevin was struggling enough with the separation, and other things, that he felt he needed more time before learning we would never be living in the same house again. I told Atticus I couldn’t wait three more months, and he understood that I needed to tell my kids the whole truth now.
And This Is Where The Epic Parenting Fail Comes In
Because the marriage had been brief, and neither kid had been particularly attached to Atticus, and Luca at one point had hated him, both Atticus and I assumed that my kids would be non-plussed, or even relieved, to hear the marriage was over and we could return to the days when it was just the three of us.
So I picked up my kids from school on a Friday and sat them down in the living room for a family meeting. And with a sigh of relief, I told them the truth I had kept from the for the past couple of months: that Atticus and I were not just separated, but were actually getting divorced, and we were most likely selling the house we were now renting next year.
After dropping this bomb on them, I announced I was going out of town for a weekend getaway, and leaving them with a sitter. And then I told them a truth that shouldn’t have been told.
Not only was I going out of town, I informed them, but I was going out of town with someone I was dating.
The news did not go the way that I, in my obliviousness, had expected. Luca’s eyes rimmed red with tears. “You’re getting a second divorce?”; “Did you ever love Atticus?”; “Did you leave him for this guy?” “Are you going to get married again?”
Franny’s lips started to quiver, the way they do when she’s trying not to cry. “You mean we’re not going to move back to the old house? We’re going to stay here?“
Luca stormed up the stairs, and Franny stormed after him in solidarity. The babysitter arrived, and I whisked myself out the door and headed for my good time, telling myself it was justly deserved and long overdue.
When I returned, Franny looked at me hopefully: “Did you break up with that guy?” I cringed. Luca stared daggers at me for a couple hours and I cringed even more.
Then he came in my room and announced he was ready to talk. His anger dissolved into anxiety and fear.
He told me he was starting to like Atticus. That wherever he is, things start to fall apart. He wanted to know why we were getting divorced, and if it was his fault. He said he didn’t feel comfortable at either house, that his dad expects him to be perfect and makes him nervous, and that there are too many changes with me. He said he worries about everything all the time, that he can’t sleep at his dad’s house or at mine. Maybe there wasn’t a place for him at my house. Maybe it would be better if it were just me and Franny.
And here was the kicker: “You went away on a weekend I was here so you could be with some guy. I was just starting to trust you again.”
Then I knew this was no ordinary parenting fail. This one was epic. With one wrong choice, one stupid, selfish wrong choice, I had undone the years of painstakingly arduous work I had spent rebuilding my relationship with my son.
Since that night, Luca has refused my invitations for visits. When I saw him at Franny’s school performance last week, he returned my smile with averted eyes, and a chilly “see you around.”
And since that night, I have been neck-deep in shame. In the years since Prince and I split up, every choice I made was in the best of interest of the kids. That didn’t mean I didn’t make mistakes, or lose my cool, or get too tired to spend quality time with my children. But I can honestly say I never lost sight of my priorities.
Until that weekend. I could give all kinds of reasons for why I did what I did, but they don’t matter. What matters is that I put my own needs over my kids’. I needed to gloss over the end of a second marriage to sidestep the embarrassment of marrying another wrong person, so I needed my kids to gloss over it too.
I was so hungry for a fun-filled weekend, that I couldn’t defer that fun for another weekend when the kids would be at their dad’s. I gave them information that there was no reason for them to hear at this point, that I was dating.
When I should have stayed home to help my kids process this latest, unexpected destabilization in their lives, and make them feel safe, I left them alone (albeit with a sitter) with news that was too big for them to bear.
This epic fail, and its subsequent unraveling of my rebuilt, but fragile relationship with my son, has sent me back to therapy — after years of telling myself I didn’t need therapy because I knew everything.
Luca is supposed to stay with me next weekend. He texted me that he wasn’t sure if he was going to come. But if he does, I will sit him down with Franny and make an amends. I will promise Luca that I will never again go away on a weekend that he’s with me. I will promise him that, should I acquire a significant other, there will not be another man living under my roof until after he leaves for college.
I will try, after being a lousy role model that weekend, to be a good role model going forward. I will take accountability for my mistake, by demonstrating that everyone, even parents, screw up, and by holding fast to my word.
What Luca chooses to do with this information, is beyond my control. And if he chooses to remain entrenched in anger and betrayal, there is nothing I can do but continue reaching out.
Shame Resilience
In her book, Brene Brown gives examples of women who have what she calls “shame resilience”: the ability to reach out to support networks and admit flaws that, when hidden, further isolate us and keep us mired in shame.
She also talks about the importance of sharing our vulnerabilities, because these are the things that bind us, not the illusion of perfection.
So that’s why I’ve decided to cop to my parenting shame — one of the worst kinds of shame there is. I realize that this admission may freak out readers, that some people may be appalled by my colossal screw-up and may decide they will no longer read my blog. And I respect that.
I have spent so much of my life caring way too much about what other people think, and letting other people’s judgments define me. And I don’t want to keep doing that. It’s unhealthy, it keeps me swimming in shame, and it keeps me from what I really want to be — authentic and comfortable in my own skin.
I started this blog because I didn’t want to be done in by the divorce from Prince, and the custody battle, and the severing of my relationship with my son. And along the way, in my efforts to write honestly about things that are raw, and scary, and hard to talk about, I learned that my experience touched other people and made them feel less alone.
When I thought about all those things last night I decided to do the only thing that has ever truly grounded me. To sit down and write and be as honest as I can.
And if sharing my massive screw-up helps just one person feel that he or she is not the only one who’s made a massive screw-up, if it helps just one other person feel grounded and less alone, then my mistake will have more significance than for me alone.
Powerful post — in myriad ways. You have my support and friendship. We all navigate the world, up and down and around boulders and through them. I wish you some smoother and calmer paths next!
I admire your candid post. It takes courage to face our mistakes but we’re all human and we all make them. All the best in reparation with Luca, I’m sure it will work out with a little time.
Pauline, know that you have my support, too. There is a difference between making a mistake and never owning up, and making a mistake and trying to make it right. This is truly a mistake that you have shared, not like so many other blogs I have read, where the mistake is that “I yelled at my daughter” or something that is easily admissible.
This was a mistake. It was wrong. It was hurtful. But you are not a ‘bad person’. And you are reaching out to us, your readers, to share it. You are reaching out to your children to make amends. May we all have the courage to share our shame and reach out to others for their support.
We all feel shame. I am working on feeling less, and connecting more. I think these actions, like what you have done in sharing this, will make the odds of committing such another blunder less, not more. Reminds me of what one mother said to her daughter. The daughter was pregnant and expressed worry about whether she was going to mess up her child. The mother said, cheerfully, “Don’t worry. You will!” We all mess up our kids. I think the real difference is whether we reach out and acknowledge the wrong that was done, and show that we can see how we hurt them. I hope that is true.
I understand how you feel this is an “epic parenting fail,” but I think it’s more of a stumble. For years, you held down the fort and tried to do everything for the kids, while cheating yourself. It’s no wonder that resolve finally collapsed under the promise of an uncomplicated, adult time that was just for you. Everyone, even mothers, have moments of selfishness and temporary insanity. I have had many. I would not make too many promises (like not having another man under your roof until your son is 18) that might prove difficult to keep. Never going away when you have the kids for a weekend, however, might be doable. I also think that Atticus should have agreed to tell the kids ASAP once you knew the divorce was unavoidable. Be kind to yourself, be kind and consistent to your kids, and it will all work out. Sending love and support!
Yep, you screwed up big time! But of course hindsight is 20-20 and thank the lord you have the insight and understanding to try to make it better and help your kids move forward. That and a deep desire to be a loving mother. Now forgive yourself; your heart is in the right place. I just wonder who was this new guy? Really, to let all rhyme and reason go out the window for him? But sometimes I guess there are no good answers, it just is. And we pick up the pieces and realign our priorities.
Sadly, we can’t change the past. All you can do is sit down with your kids and sincerely tell them that you screwed up, you’re really sorry, and here’s how you’ll avoid it in the future. The power of a sincere apology is truly amazing.
As far as “why” you decided to leave your kids to hang with this guy, the answer is simple: You just didn’t realize the divorce was serious news until after you had already left. You didn’t set out with malicious intent to harm your children. It happened inadvertently just like any other mistake big or small.
Fail isn’t the right word. Mistake is more accurate. We all make mistakes. Some big, some small. I have a couple of parenting doozies in my past for sure – most of us do. Own it(you have), make amends (you will) and start again. That’s the best any of us can do. xoxo
Wow, thanks for sharing, hang in there!
ps: we still love you and we’ll get through this together.
My jaw is dropped as I try to comprehend what good Atticus thinks it will do to withhold the truth from Kevin for MONTHS on end??!!?? Oh my…
This, too shall pass – as when I caused my boy to suffer a meltdown when I told him last month’s revised child-support hearing went “my way”; apparently his father had warned him of disastrous consequences if he had to start fulfilling his financial responsibilities – oh yeah, Ex had dragged him into the fray in the months prior, as Z begged me to drop my case – he was “happy”! Ugh, dark days!
Thanks, TG. You are one of my fave “old” friends.
There have been so many times when I have miscalculated or not anticipated my kids’ responses to things and only when I was confronted with their pain did I realize the huge mistake I made. Parents who don’t make mistakes are a fantasy. Children need a parent who is able to admit mistakes, to genuinely apologize for them and to commit to doing better. That is the role model for healthy relationships. Sounds like that is exactly what you did. Stop beating yourself up.
I’ll keep reading. Your mistake means you’re normal like the rest of us. Feel better, learn from it and move forward.
Wow. Reading that was hard, but I imagine writing it was even harder. It’s so easy to fall into judging, I felt myself slipping down that slope at a couple of points. Very brave, I am in awe.
Never a good idea to put a guy, that you just started dating after separating from your husband, before your children. They will survive it though and life goes on.
I read this on my phone earlier and then came back to your blog to read it again. You’re very brave to publicly post this “epic fail”, Pauline. Yes, you too are human and you will make mistakes. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve kicked myself (emotionally) for barking at my kids, losing my patience, missing an opportunity to connect, etc. etc. etc. I think part of what makes a good parent a good parent is admitting mistakes and learning from them.
Pauline, You are so very brave and i admire you as a mom and woman. I read this quickly yesterday while waiting to see my therapist. Most of my session was spent talking about how much i struggle with feeling like i’ve not measured up as a parent. If i’d only stayed with my ex life would be easier for us all, etc, etc. etc. It’s so very hard to be in the process of rebuilding a life after divorce with your kids, (and ex), family, etc. to watch and critique your efforts. Most of the time if feel like an actor on a stage with everyone watching my performance. Thank you for your honesty. It’s so powerful and healing to me to see that others stumble and pick themselves up and trudge on. I remember a time during my divorce when a “new friend” took me to rome for a quick getaway. i told my kids i was going to help a friend work, but it wasn’t true and i spent the whole time feeling bad that i’d lied to my children. i, like you, was so in need of some fun and time for just me, but it backfired on me. it’s not easy when all the parts shift in our life, and to respond appropriately when we are in the midst of crisis. remember your children have their own soul. who they are has been largely decided already. our job is to set a good example and to help teach them to care for themselves. and you are doing that by being honest, however painful that may be at times. all the best to you.
Thanks for your comment, Marnie. It’s hard being a mother, period, and hard beyond measure when you’re a single mother with needs that kids can’t fill.
Thank you, Anya!
You mentioned that Luca feels his dad expects perfection from him, has that given him unrealistic expectations of perfection in others, and intolerance of others mistakes? Maybe he really needs to know that yes, you’ve screwed up, but can own up to your mistakes, and that after someone (whether it’s you, him, Franny, or anyone else) makes a mistake, life goes on, and families can still love enough other. I suspect he’s harsh with you because he’s learned to be so harsh on himself.
Wow! What a powerful post. There isn’t a parent alive who hasn’t made a mistake or told a lie to their kids at some point. I’ve made plenty and some were far worse than this. Put the bat down….. your children aren’t being beaten, starved, left alone unattended or otherwise abused. You are a human being. It takes a big person to acknowledge their actions especially where our kids are concerned. Sadly, some people never get to that place…. they’ll go right to the bitter end, hanging onto their right to be right. I’ve learned to acknowledge my wrongs, make amends & try to not repeat the same behavior. In the long run, I think it’s better for kids to realize that their parents aren’t perfect either.
You were in a bad spot with Atticus asking you not to be forthcoming with your children. While you were withholding informaton at his request, you were moving on and your children could not similarly begin to transition. It made the impact of your announcement so much more severe than if all the elements had happened separately and in good time.
I completely understand how much this must sting but do not beat yourself up over it. Talk to your kids. Write your son a heart-felt note. Learn and love as you go.
I appreciate your honesty in this post. I screwed something up lately and have been hating on myself (a dumb work mistake). Even though my situation is very different (well – this time – I’ve had many a parenting fail) – seeing your process laid out is so helpful.
Sending lots of good thoughts about next weekend!
What a great, brave post. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.I agree with the others that this is more of a stumble, not an epic fail. I will definitely keep reading!
Aww, you are a good mom. I remember getting a lot of good lessons on adulthood seeing how my mom handled her mistakes. It sounds like you are doing the right thing now and your kids will learn and grow too.
I’m still here and reading.
I’m always impressed/transfixed by your painful admissions. Your thoughts always give me fodder for analyzing my own relationships (‘epic fails’ and achievements alike).
I’m about to step into therapy again (tomorrow, actually) after years of feeling pretty content and healthy. It’s always scary to go ‘into practice’ again, but I’m looking forward to what I might discover.
Have a terrific week, Pauline.
We all screw up. And it’s not an epic parenting fail. It was a mistake. It’s a failure if no one learns from it. It’s good your kids see you’re not perfect, you make mistakes and bad decisions. And in a way, it’s opened up a huge discussion point for you and your kids. Don’t punish yourself too hard my dear. Think of how you’d act if your daughter was in your shoes. Yeah you’d be annoyed but also encourage her to learn and move on. You moving on helps them too.
Uggh, we have all made mistakes with the kids. I find myself apologizing to them a whole lot these days. I think it is good for kids to see that adults can screw up and can ask forgiveness for it. I also think that your pledge to Luca about waiting until he is 18 to have another man live with you is honorable. It’s doable, it isn’t like he’s 6. He has verbalized that he isn’t comfortable with you having another man around or thinking of you in that role at this point and I think you will give him some stability by honoring that. He really opened up to you about what he needs, to feel important to you on his weekends with you, etc, and that is to be commended. He put it out there, you put it out there and now you can go forward. I think that is the best we can hope for.
They love you, you are a great mom.
Thank you, Cuckoo Momma!
I’m speechless. Well, maybe not really, but I’m figuratively speechless. This reassures me, while it disturbs me. A wonderful, frightening combo, to be sure. I, too, have failed miserably at parenting–of my kids and myself. It’s helpful to hear other people struggle, though this validation on my part hopefully doesn’t border on shadenfreude. In any case, thanks for sharing (as they used to say in self help groups I moonlighted at). Very brave indeed.