09/03/2026
Today my son ran away from home.
Only for an hour, and only nearby, but in that hour—at a way-past-bedtime-on-a-school-night 10:30 p.m. hour—I swear, I’ve aged a decade.
He’s been having girl troubles, and in my well-intended, probably too-pushy approach, I kept asking him questions and encouraging him to share. I wanted to be supportive. I didn’t want him to suffer alone. I wanted to stop him from doing something stupid if he couldn’t cope.
Sometimes, I am too much.
So he snuck out of the house while I was showering without saying a word. Probably to avoid a later conversation that he dreaded.
I came into his room to say goodnight, only to find nobody under the blanket.
I panicked.
The last thing he had said to me a few hours earlier was, “I’d rather kill myself than talk with you about it!”
I took it as a figure of speech at the time and left him alone. Now, I was questioning myself and panicking.
But this post is not about teenagers or mental health.
This post is about community, friendship, and supporting one another on the very treacherous and lonely path that is parenting. It’s about sharing the most delicate, complicated, and vulnerable road of being a mom or a dad with other parents.
For some reason, parenting has become almost the number one topic of judgment and criticism within our culture. Much like politics, everyone has a strong opinion on how kids should be parented these days, but in reality—we’re all just winging it.
We have all agreed (well, mostly!) that the parenting skills of our folks were often lacking, but where to head in this fog of trying to raise conscientious, kind, honest, hard-working kids, while making sure they have good mental health and an easier, happier life than we did, is completely unclear!...
Having been a mom to three boys for 14 years now, having read just about every parenting book there is and listened to every parenting podcast there is to listen to, I’ve come to a firm conclusion:
Nobody knows what they’re talking about.
The reward-consequence paradigm tends to raise kids who aim to please rather than develop an inner moral compass. Positive parenting tends to work only for relatively easy, naturally conscientious, or self-motivated kids; otherwise, it can lead to selfish, entitled, and self-absorbed youngsters. Attachment parenting can create anxious kids, while the good old belt and stick creates resentment and trauma.
Every which way you turn, it doesn’t work for all kids and often has unintended side effects.
So why do we judge? Why are we so afraid to share our kids’ challenges for fear of being perceived as a bad parent? Why are we so quick to gossip about other kids while we ourselves walk around clueless?
I’ll tell you why.
The same reason we judge anything: insecurity.
When we judge others’ looks and appearances, we’re often deeply insecure about our own. When we gloat about someone’s relationship problems, chances are we’re not in a happy one ourselves.
So, parents, the jig is up!
Next time you think you know better, think twice. Next time you get the urge to judge or gossip about someone else’s kid and think you know how to parent them best, remember this:
Nobody knows.
Not you. Not the experts. Not the gurus. Not even the mom who has successfully raised four kids! She could’ve gotten lucky. Genetics do matter!
We do not know. That’s the truth.
Every kid has a different temperament, a different set of needs, and a different way they need to be parented.
So if I can give you one piece of advice I’ve learned today, and throughout many years of being a mother and a therapist, it’s this:
Be observant. Let them teach you.
Educate yourself, but don’t follow any method blindly.
Follow your kid.
Today, I failed.
And before you tell me not to be so hard on myself, let me assure you—I’m not.
I’m simply learning. I am simply open and willing.
There will be many more chances, many more opportunities to do better. To love my strong-willed, impulsive 14-year-old the way he needs me to.
And that’s most certainly not by trying to pry him open to shove my undying support into his heart without his permission.
That’s not loving.
Not to him, anyway.
It’s how I would’ve preferred to be loved when I’m struggling—for someone to keep talking to me until I open up. For someone to keep sitting there, assuring me they want to help.
That is what I need.
That is not what he needed.
And I failed to see the difference.
Love is being willing to step outside yourself long enough to notice what the other person needs in their moment of struggle.
That’s love.
Not imposing your version of love onto them, but learning theirs.
True love is noticing. Seeing. Learning.
True love can’t be written about in a parenting book or learned about in a therapy session.
So please, for all that is sacred, let’s support one another on this already treacherous but wildly beautiful path of parenthood.
My boy came home last night, still furious, and went to bed.
But I didn’t have to spend that hour alone.
I am lucky.
I have a friend—the rare one who doesn’t judge or preach, but walks right beside you and tells you that you don’t have to walk alone.
To her, I dedicate this post.
To those of you who are simply near, who are simply learning to love one another by observing and watching.
With love,
Viktoriya
Read on substack 👇
https://viktoriyamagidphd.substack.com/p/i-thought-i-was-being-a-good-mother
