When we are parents, we divide our lives into “before and after.” Before we had children, we were many things: children ourselves, employees, athletes, artists, cousins, aunts, girlfriends and boyfriends, dreamers, thinkers, and doers. After we have children, we are still all of these things, but— barring some extenuating circumstances— we are parents first. Always parents, with all the good, the bad, and the ugly that comes along with it.

In the before, parenthood is, of course, an abstraction. We imagine what it might be like, and how we will parent. We might think, “My kid is going to eat all organic, play outside every day, and know she is loved.” Maybe a wave of judgment washes over us when we see “that” child in the grocery store or on the plane, having a massive meltdown over which their parent seems to have no control. “That’ll never be my kid,” we mumble as we make our way to the checkout line. “Not me. Not my kid.” The mantra we tell ourselves before we know better.

Afterward, things are different. We realize that all of our shortcomings seem to become amplified as we try to care for and nurture this complex little human being who, far from being an extension of ourselves, is entirely their own, with strong opinions, likes, dislikes, and endless ways to try and get their perceived needs met, some of which seem barbaric (see public space meltdown, above). We get caught up in the day-to-day, often stuck in a state that feels like just surviving, with less and less time to devote to ourselves and our own evolution. Things can start to fall apart; work weighs heavily on us, our relationship with our partner becomes more distant and maybe even toxic, and our sense of self becomes compromised.

Don’t think for a moment I am discounting the wonders of parenthood, far from it. Having children melted my iceberg of a heart, connected me to true joyfulness for the first time, and ultimately allowed for massive personal growth. But, part of the downside that nobody talks about is that no matter what our parenting style is, every parent in the world ends up traumatizing their kids in ways they can’t comprehend at the time. This is what I’d like to talk about. The reality of this.

I have worked with many parents over the years who are in abject denial about the impact of their own health, mental, physical, relational, and otherwise, on the development of their children. It doesn’t surprise me. If, as I mentioned, we are in survival mode, the last thing we are equipped to do is take a good long look at ourselves, our marriage, our eating habits, our recreational habits, our happiness on the job, or any of the other behaviors, choices, and states of being that make us, us. And sometimes, even if we do take a good long look at these things, we feel unable to fix or change them. Being trapped in an unhappy partnership is the number one thing I see folks believing they can’t extricate themselves from.

What we have to remember is— though our children are born wholly and fully themselves— every single thing we do, both positive and negative, in their presence or otherwise, changes who they are, how they understand themselves, and how they interpret their relationship to the world. If we think our secret porn addiction has no impact on our kid, we are mistaken. If we think we can hide our problematic drinking so it doesn’t affect anyone in the home, we are mistaken. If we think the fights we have with our partner behind closed doors and out of earshot will be overlooked, we are mistaken.

Kids absorb all of our energy. They take the narrative we have written for ourselves and begin to apply a version of it to their own lives. This is precisely why we have intergenerational trauma. Toxic are stories passed from one generation to the next, wreaking havoc in entire family systems across time. Think about, for a moment, some of the toxic stories of your own family. Maybe they were fatphobic, or misogynistic. Maybe they had a “get them before they get you” attitude, or they believed in keeping a “stiff upper lip” regardless of the pain one is in. We can reflect on how these belief systems changed and shaped us, and how we have or have not moved beyond them. And we can acknowledge, that despite our best efforts, we are holding and delivering some kind of story to our own children. The question is, what is that story?

The goal should not be to be a perfect parent, because there is no such thing. The goal should be to become a self-aware parent. A parent humble enough to consider what we might be able to do better and then to try and do it. There is so much power there. We can begin to role model a willingness to evolve. Our child sees us, whether they realize it or not and whether we like it or not, cloaked in a spectacular array of all of our human shortcomings. If one of our strengths is a willingness to look those shortcomings squarely in the eye and work on improving them, they can become a family story about resilience, connection, or healing that also gets passed down through generations.

Being a parent is daunting. Holding the responsibility for another person’s soul in our own shaky hands is a big ask, especially when we love that person with heartbreaking ferocity. We will often feel confused, lonely, or angry as we stumble around, trying to do our best. But if we let ourselves be led by a belief that our own health directly impacts the health of our children, it makes it easier to prioritize. This doesn’t just go for parents of young children, either! My 86-year-old mother has made remarkable strides in self-healing that have helped change the stories I tell myself and therefore my children, for the better.

Understanding the interconnectedness of all things is the key. All of our actions have meaning and impact. If we can accept the reality that our whole being shapes and molds our children in both positive and negative ways and cultivate the fortitude to work on ourselves while we parent them, we have the chance to help create equally spectacularly flawed people who might make those flaws and the ways they improve them the cornerstone of their own, magnificent and never-ending story.