This is a journey I've come to know. I've been on this footpath. I lived in a household within which my lovely mother guided me through invisible crises, ones that she had herself endured and navigated. I knew I needed to be anxious but I didn't know why there were monsters under the bed, because she never told me. Later, I made brutal mistakes in terms of creating parental safety for my children. My stance these days, I messed up. How can I love better?
1000% yes to this—I’m right there with you. No ego, just human. Flawed and fully willing to listen, learn, and repair. Thank you for sharing this—I feel this so deeply.
Oh. I love this. I think there is something very magical in parents owning that they are human and will make mistakes.
I mentor at-risk youth and young adults at a local program, and yesterday I was listening to this young lady just rail into her parents. She paused, waiting for me to say something. And I paused, not saying something very deliberately for a minute. And then I asked... so - do you think that we sometimes forget that our parents are human, too? That sometimes they just have a bad day and just don't handle something as well as they could have?
And she was just stunned.
And then she prompted texted her mom, apologizing for her behavior and asking if her mom was okay, and if she had a bad day.
Empathy and compassion are often just around the corner. I think parents sometimes fall prey to trying to pretend to be superhuman. And I think we all do, as well.
That’s such a powerful moment—you gave her the space to see her mom as a person, not just "the parent."
And you’re so right—there’s a real pull, no matter the role, to seem unshakable. We want to be steady, reliable, the one who always has the answers. But it's so often missed that connection is built on honesty, humility, and allowing ourselves to be seen and seeing others. What a gift when we find people who get that.
Thank you—and I couldn’t agree more. Modeling accountability is about showing them what real integrity looks like. And owning our mistakes makes space for them to do the same without fear or shame.
This is good!!! I literally finished writing a piece about parental estrangement (from my personal perspective and professional perspective) today and then I see this. Oh how so many relationships would be different if more parents embodied what you talk about here.
Parental estrangement is such a deeply complex and layered topic, and I can only imagine the perspective you bring to it from both personal experience and your work. It’s heartbreaking how many relationships suffer not from the mistakes themselves but from the refusal to acknowledge and repair them.
Looking forward to reading your piece when it’s out! It's such a valuable conversation.
Strong piece. Apology, from the Greek, means to speak in one's defense -- perhaps to express regret or remorse, but more importantly, to be understood. Cardinal Newman titled his autobiography, Apologia pro vita sua -- Apology for his life. He wasn't compunctious -- he was glad -- but he needed to be understood -- as do we all.
I really appreciate this historical lens on apology. The idea that its original meaning centered on defense rather than remorse is such an interesting contrast to how we use it today. Like most things in history, language and ideas evolve as culture progresses, and I think the shift in how we understand apology speaks to something bigger.
At its core, an apology—whether in its historical sense of defending oneself or in its modern sense of taking responsibility—is a response to the deep human need for connection. And while I see how the original meaning focused on being understood, I tend to think the most effective apologies today aren’t about defending our actions, but about owning their impact—regardless of whether we feel fully seen in the process.
I also think about this a lot in parenting, especially when our kids are young. There’s often an imbalance in understanding, simply because their brains are still developing. They don’t yet have the capacity to fully grasp our perspectives, and that’s okay. It’s not their job to understand us, but it is our job to model accountability, repair, and connection.
In my post, I explored apology through the lens of humility, action, and repair because while words matter, trust is built in what follows. It’s not about defending who we are, but tending to the impact we leave behind. Thank you for adding such an interesting perspective to this conversation—I love the layers this brings.
This is a journey I've come to know. I've been on this footpath. I lived in a household within which my lovely mother guided me through invisible crises, ones that she had herself endured and navigated. I knew I needed to be anxious but I didn't know why there were monsters under the bed, because she never told me. Later, I made brutal mistakes in terms of creating parental safety for my children. My stance these days, I messed up. How can I love better?
1000% yes to this—I’m right there with you. No ego, just human. Flawed and fully willing to listen, learn, and repair. Thank you for sharing this—I feel this so deeply.
Yes, listen learn and repair. That's the recipe 🙏
Oh. I love this. I think there is something very magical in parents owning that they are human and will make mistakes.
I mentor at-risk youth and young adults at a local program, and yesterday I was listening to this young lady just rail into her parents. She paused, waiting for me to say something. And I paused, not saying something very deliberately for a minute. And then I asked... so - do you think that we sometimes forget that our parents are human, too? That sometimes they just have a bad day and just don't handle something as well as they could have?
And she was just stunned.
And then she prompted texted her mom, apologizing for her behavior and asking if her mom was okay, and if she had a bad day.
Empathy and compassion are often just around the corner. I think parents sometimes fall prey to trying to pretend to be superhuman. And I think we all do, as well.
That’s such a powerful moment—you gave her the space to see her mom as a person, not just "the parent."
And you’re so right—there’s a real pull, no matter the role, to seem unshakable. We want to be steady, reliable, the one who always has the answers. But it's so often missed that connection is built on honesty, humility, and allowing ourselves to be seen and seeing others. What a gift when we find people who get that.
It is a gift to be able to be human with people. It is something I think we don’t get to experience enough.
Love this. Teaching accountability by modelling it might be one of the most powerful things we can do as parents.
Thank you—and I couldn’t agree more. Modeling accountability is about showing them what real integrity looks like. And owning our mistakes makes space for them to do the same without fear or shame.
This is good!!! I literally finished writing a piece about parental estrangement (from my personal perspective and professional perspective) today and then I see this. Oh how so many relationships would be different if more parents embodied what you talk about here.
Parental estrangement is such a deeply complex and layered topic, and I can only imagine the perspective you bring to it from both personal experience and your work. It’s heartbreaking how many relationships suffer not from the mistakes themselves but from the refusal to acknowledge and repair them.
Looking forward to reading your piece when it’s out! It's such a valuable conversation.
Strong piece. Apology, from the Greek, means to speak in one's defense -- perhaps to express regret or remorse, but more importantly, to be understood. Cardinal Newman titled his autobiography, Apologia pro vita sua -- Apology for his life. He wasn't compunctious -- he was glad -- but he needed to be understood -- as do we all.
I really appreciate this historical lens on apology. The idea that its original meaning centered on defense rather than remorse is such an interesting contrast to how we use it today. Like most things in history, language and ideas evolve as culture progresses, and I think the shift in how we understand apology speaks to something bigger.
At its core, an apology—whether in its historical sense of defending oneself or in its modern sense of taking responsibility—is a response to the deep human need for connection. And while I see how the original meaning focused on being understood, I tend to think the most effective apologies today aren’t about defending our actions, but about owning their impact—regardless of whether we feel fully seen in the process.
I also think about this a lot in parenting, especially when our kids are young. There’s often an imbalance in understanding, simply because their brains are still developing. They don’t yet have the capacity to fully grasp our perspectives, and that’s okay. It’s not their job to understand us, but it is our job to model accountability, repair, and connection.
In my post, I explored apology through the lens of humility, action, and repair because while words matter, trust is built in what follows. It’s not about defending who we are, but tending to the impact we leave behind. Thank you for adding such an interesting perspective to this conversation—I love the layers this brings.
Thanks, Karl.