Parent Shaming
Can you tell? I’m always fascinated by the new words that pop up, but sometimes this one—parent shaming—really stuck with me. It’s not just a trendy term; it’s something we often experience during our inner healing sessions.
Let’s look at what this really means?
Parent shaming happens when others criticize, judge, or guilt-trip parents for their parenting choices—whether it’s about discipline methods, feeding decisions, education styles, or screen time usage. It’s that unsolicited advice, the side-eye at the playground, or the passive-aggressive comment at a family gathering. I’ve had my fair share of it, especially in the early days of parenting. Back then, I was already questioning myself—wondering if I was doing things “right,” if I was being too strict or too lenient if I was meeting all my child’s needs. And then came the outside opinions, sometimes well-meaning, sometimes not, with subtle (or not-so-subtle) messages that I should be doing things differently.
One thing I want to dive deeper into is not just the experience of being parent-shamed, but the fear of shaming your parents—from the perspective of an adult child. This is something I wrestled with a lot during my first inner healing. I was making excuses and minimizing my feelings—telling myself, “It wasn’t that bad” or “Other people have had it worse.” It was like a wall I had built over the years, a way to protect myself from the depth of my emotions, the hurt, the wounds. By downplaying them, I felt like I was in control. Of course, I didn’t realize it at the time. Looking back, I see it clearly, but at the moment, it felt like acknowledging my pain would mean dishonoring my parents.
Maybe you can relate.
Another way I struggled was by dismissing my own needs—believing that setting boundaries or expressing my hurt was selfish. I thought that honoring my parents meant carrying their burdens without question, even at the cost of my well-being. I was deeply out of touch with my own emotions. It wasn’t a sudden thing—it happened gradually, so subtly that it became part of my identity. I didn’t even realize I was carrying this weight until that moment of inner healing when it had to be broken open.
The couple leading my inner healing gently asked, “But how did you really feel?” They kept asking, peeling back the layers of my defenses. At first, I resisted—because I genuinely didn’t know. But little by little, the walls I had built started to crack. I allowed myself to sit with the emotions I had buried for so long, and as painful as it was, it was also the beginning of something beautiful. That moment was the start of a journey—one of deeper healing, greater freedom, and a wholeness that is still unfolding. Because healing doesn’t happen all at once. It comes in layers, in waves, in moments of revelation. And God, in His beautiful mercy, doesn’t—thank God—dump everything on us at once. He knows what we can handle, He knows when our hearts are ready, and He walks with us, one step at a time. These moments have become my most intimate ones!
I know I’m not the only one. Through our years of walking alongside people in inner healing, we’ve seen this come up again and again—the deep instinct to shield our parents, the fear of dishonoring them, or the uncertainty of what might surface if we allow ourselves to feel. Simply put, most of us have never made a habit of looking at our childhood wounds with honesty. It’s unfamiliar, even uncomfortable.
Yes, some adults-only see the faults in their parents, but in our experience, they’ve been the exception, not the rule. Even in those cases, God meets them with His truth, bringing healing and a renewed perspective. We have seen people leave with a deeper, more beautiful picture—not one shaped by pain or bitterness, but one redeemed by His love through the power of forgiveness.
During inner healing, so much of what we believed as children comes to the surface—things we absorbed without even realizing it. Our parents were our first experience of love, authority, and guidance. Whether they were gentle or strict, present or absent, affirming or critical, they shaped how we saw the world, ourselves, and even God. And here’s where it gets complicated: What happens when we start recognizing unhealthy patterns? When we realize that some of our struggles—our fears, insecurities, or endless striving—have roots in our childhood? The temptation is either to excuse everything or to swing to the other extreme and place blame. But healing isn’t about blame. It’s about honesty.
I’ve seen it often, especially in those raised in faith—the deep hesitation to acknowledge childhood wounds because it feels like dishonoring our parents. After all, aren’t we called to honor them? But honoring isn’t about pretending everything was perfect. It’s about seeking truth with love, and acknowledging the good while also allowing God to heal the broken places.
What makes this even deeper is how much our earthly parents shape our understanding of God. A father is often the first glimpse of what "Father God" might be like—whether that’s reassuring or complicated. A mother’s nurture often reflects the Holy Spirit. Siblings and friends are a reflection of Jesus. When those relationships are healthy, it’s easier to trust God’s love. But when they were fractured, it took time to untangle our earthly experiences from the truth of who He really is.
So how do we navigate this? How do we face our past without dishonoring those who raised us? And how do we heal without getting stuck in resentment? Healing doesn’t come from ignoring or downplaying the past. It comes from letting it out, bringing it before God, and allowing Him to replace the lies we believe with His truth. True forgiveness isn’t about protecting ourselves from pain by looking away—it’s about walking through it, acknowledging that our parents did the best they could, and allowing God to fill in the gaps where they couldn’t.
Just trying to brush your upbringing off, doing everything differently, won’t work, you might have already seen, that so much during those formative years is coming up, in your life, your marriage, and your parenting. These moments are opportunities for growth and go deeper.
Because, let’s be honest, we still carry expectations of our parents—even when our relationships with them feel fractured or incomplete. Deep down, many of us long for our fathers to truly see us for who we are: to recognize our struggles and our strengths, to offer encouragement, and to celebrate even the small victories along the way. We hope that one day, our fathers will express pride in our achievements, acknowledge our efforts, and validate our experiences, even if that validation comes in small, tentative steps. Similarly, there remains a profound desire for our mothers to nurture us in the way we remember or imagine we once needed. We wish for their unconditional love—a kind of caring that reassures us of our worth and comforts us when the world feels cold or unwelcoming. We crave that nurturing presence, the gentle guidance, and support that can heal old wounds, even if it is tinged with the bittersweet reality that our relationship is not as whole as we once hoped.
These expectations are not just about receiving validation or comfort; they’re also about filling the voids that our inner child carries with them. When our parental relationships are marked by cracks or neglect, it’s natural to hold onto a vision of what could have been—a vision where our fathers are our champions and our mothers our safe-havens. By exploring and unpacking these expectations, we can start to see that our desires for our fathers to see us, encourage us, and be proud of us and for our mothers to nurture and love us, are not demands for perfection. Rather, they are expressions of our inherent need for connection, acceptance, and love. And while our relationships with our parents might never be fully restored to an ideal state, recognizing these deep-seated needs gives us a pathway to healing—through forgiveness, heartfelt forgiveness, and letting go of the ongoing expectations and the hurts, shifting it to the true source, God the Father, The Holy Spirit and Jesus, three in one, perfect in all their ways, the one who truly satisfy us.
Our upbringing deeply influence how we perceive the Trinity. Many struggle with viewing Father God as angry, distant, or conditionally loving, mirroring their earthly experiences. Healing allows us to see Him as He truly is—a loving Father who delights in us. How many of us still wrestle with these distorted images?
You see, it is worth it. This journey isn’t about parent shaming—even though I chose that title—but about transformation, freedom, and ultimately, a renewed relationship with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. When you embark on this process of inner healing and self-discovery, you'll notice that the changes within you begin to ripple outwards, affecting even your relationship with your parents.
As you work on healing and transforming yourself, you will find that your renewed perspective influences your parents in various ways. Some may eventually come to a place where they ask for forgiveness, while others might not be ready—or may never be ready—to take that step. And that’s okay. The good news is that you don’t have to wait for their forgiveness to experience freedom. You have the power to decide, on your own, to cut off the emotional chains holding you back and to forgive, regardless of their actions.
This decision to forgive is not about excusing past behavior or forgetting the hurt; rather, it’s about releasing yourself from the burden of resentment. By choosing forgiveness, you free yourself to experience a deeper connection with God and His unconditional love. It’s a transformative act that not only changes your inner world but also has the potential to gently reshape your external relationships over time.
In this way, your journey toward healing becomes a testament to the power of God’s grace and the liberating truth that forgiveness is a gift you give to yourself. By embracing transformation and extending forgiveness—whether or not it is reciprocated—you create space for renewal and true freedom in your life.