Let me tell you the truth no one wants to say out loud:

You can't give what you didn't receive.

If you weren't allowed to play as a child, you don't know how to teach your kids to play.

If your emotions were shamed, you can't hold space for theirs.

If your worth was conditional, you can't give unconditional love—because you don't know what that feels like.

And that's not your fault.

But it becomes your responsibility when you have kids.

Because the cycle stops here. With you.

The Shame No One Talks About

Here's what the parenting books tell you:

"Just be present! Put down your phone! Play with your kids!"

BUT if you're a trauma survivor, that advice creates nothing but shame.

Because you CAN'T.

Not because you don't love your kids. Not because you're a bad parent.

Because your nervous system doesn't have the capacity.

Why You Couldn't Play

I need you to understand something:

When your nervous system is in survival mode—dysregulated, hypervigilant, stuck in freeze—creativity goes offline.

Your prefrontal cortex (the part that does imagination, play, creativity) shuts down when you're in fight/flight/freeze.

What's left? Survival functions. Keep everyone fed. Keep everyone alive. Get through the day.

That's it.

So when your kids said, "Mommy, play with me!" and you couldn't—it wasn't because you didn't want to.

It's because your body was fighting to survive.

You didn't have bandwidth for imaginative play. You were using all your energy just to function.

The Story I Wish Someone Had Told Me

Three years ago, when I was post-divorce, jobless, single mom to Madison and Damian, I was in survival mode.

I fed them. I kept them safe. I showed up every single day.

But I couldn't play.

When they asked me to build LEGOs, I felt nothing. When they wanted me to do crafts, I felt empty. When they begged me to play pretend, I couldn't access that part of my brain.

And I felt like the worst mother in the world.

Because all the parenting advice said: "Just be present! Just play!"

But I couldn't. And I didn't understand why.

Now I know:

I was in freeze. My nervous system was dysregulated. My prefrontal cortex was offline.

I wasn't a bad mom. I was a traumatized mom trying to survive.

The Truth About Healing While Parenting

Here's what I wish someone had told me:

You Can't Heal AND Parent at the Same Level You Want

There will be seasons where you're:

• Just keeping everyone alive

• Relying on screens more than you'd like

• Ordering takeout instead of cooking

• Saying "not right now" more than "yes"

And that's okay.

You're not failing. You're in the Ashes. And you're doing the best you can with a dysregulated nervous system.

You Can't Give What You Don't Have

If you don't have capacity for creative play, you can't create it out of thin air.

If you don't have emotional bandwidth, you can't manufacture it.

If you're in survival mode, you're surviving—not thriving.

That's not weakness. That's reality.

Healing Takes Energy—And You Don't Have Extra

You're already using all your energy to:

• Show up to work

• Keep kids fed and safe

• Pay bills

• Not fall apart

There's no extra energy for "self-care" or "healing."

So when people say "You need to work on yourself," it feels impossible—because it is, right now.

And that's okay.

You're not failing. You're in survival mode. And that's a valid phase.

How to Parent When You're Dysregulated

Here's what actually helps:

1. Name It (To Yourself)

"I'm dysregulated right now. My nervous system is in survival mode. That's why I can't play. That's why I'm irritable. That's why I feel numb."

Naming it interrupts the shame spiral.

2. Lower the Bar

You're not aiming for "Instagram mom." You're aiming for "we all survived today."

Good enough IS good enough.

Fed kids. Safe kids. Alive kids. That's success.

3. Find Ways to Connect That Don't Require Creativity

If imaginative play feels impossible, try:

• Parallel play (you do your thing, they do theirs, same room)

• Sensory activities (Play-Doh, water table, sandbox—minimal adult input)

• Screen time together (watch a show WITH them, not just parking them)

• Physical connection (hugs, sitting close, hand on their back)

Connection doesn't have to mean "playing pretend."

4. Tell Them the Truth (Age-Appropriately)

You don't have to say: "Mommy has cPTSD and a dysregulated nervous system."

But you can say:

• "Mommy's feeling really tired today. I need some quiet time."

• "I love you so much, and right now I need to rest my brain."

• "My body doesn't feel good today. Can we snuggle instead of playing?"

Kids can handle honesty. What they can't handle is feeling like it's their fault.

5. Get Help If You Can

If you have access to:

• Therapy

• Childcare

• A friend who can take the kids for an hour

• Online support groups

Use it.

You don't get extra points for doing this alone.

You're Not Breaking Your Kids

Here's the fear, right?

"I'm going to mess them up. I'm going to traumatize them the way I was traumatized. They're going to grow up and hate me."

Listen to me:

Your kids are not doomed because you're dysregulated right now.

Here's why:

1. You're Aware

Your parents probably weren't. They didn't know they were passing down trauma. They didn't have the language.

You do.

And awareness changes everything.

2. You're Trying

You're not ignoring this. You're not pretending everything is fine. You're actively seeking to break the cycle.

That matters.

3. Repair Matters More Than Perfection

You're going to snap at your kids. You're going to be irritable. You're going to have days where you're disconnected.

That's not the problem.

The problem is when there's NO repair. No acknowledgment. No "I'm sorry I was grumpy today. That wasn't about you."

Repair > Perfection.

4. Kids Are Resilient

Your kids don't need a perfect parent. They need a parent who:

• Shows up (even imperfectly)

• Repairs when they mess up

• Is trying to do better

You're doing that.

The Cycle Stops Here

Here's the hardest truth:

You're healing FOR your kids, not WITH your kids.

They can't be your support system. They can't be your therapist. They can't fix you.

Your job is to:

• Keep them safe (fed, housed, protected)

• Model repair (apologize when you mess up)

• Do the work (therapy, coaching, nervous system regulation—on your own time)

Their job is to:

• Be kids

That's it.

What "Breaking the Cycle" Actually Looks Like

It doesn't look like:

• ❌ Being the perfect parent

• ❌ Never getting triggered

• ❌ Always being present and creative

• ❌ Never yelling or snapping

It looks like:

• ✅ Recognizing when you're dysregulated

• ✅ Repairing after you snap

• ✅ Doing the healing work (even slowly)

• ✅ Not passing the trauma down unconsciously

You're not aiming for perfection. You're aiming for awareness.

The Practices That Actually Help

1. Regulate Yourself First

You can't co-regulate your kids if you're dysregulated.

When you feel yourself spiraling:

• Step away for 60 seconds

• Do bilateral stimulation (butterfly hug)

• Name your state ("I'm in fight/flight right now")

• Then come back

You're modeling: "When I'm upset, I take a break. That's healthy."

2. Create Safety for Their Emotions

Even if you can't hold space for big feelings right now, you can avoid shaming them.

Instead of:

• ❌ "Stop crying, it's not a big deal"

• ❌ "You're fine, calm down"

• ❌ "You're being dramatic"

Try:

• ✅ "I see you're upset. I'm here."

• ✅ "That sounds really hard."

• ✅ "It's okay to feel big feelings."

You're teaching them: "Emotions are safe here."

3. Repair, Repair, Repair

When you snap, yell, or shut down, come back later and say:

"I'm sorry I yelled earlier. That wasn't okay. I was feeling overwhelmed, but that's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

You're modeling: "Adults mess up. And they repair."

4. Tell Them About the Phoenix

When your kids are old enough, tell them the story:

"Sometimes Mommy goes through hard times. It feels like I'm in the ashes. But I always rise. That's what phoenixes do. And you'll learn how to do it too."

You're teaching them: "Struggle is normal. And rising is possible."

The Hardest Part

Here's what no one tells you:

You're going to have to grieve the parent you wish you could be right now.

The parent who:

• Plays imaginatively

• Never gets triggered

• Always has emotional capacity

• Never snaps

That's not you right now. And that's okay.

You're the parent who:

• Shows up even when dysregulated

• Repairs when they mess up

• Is doing the hard work of healing

• Is breaking the cycle

That's enough.

You're Not Too Late

Maybe your kids are already teenagers.

Maybe they've already seen you at your worst.

Maybe you've already "messed up" in ways you regret.

It's not too late.

You can:

• Start repair now

• Have the hard conversations

• Model what healing looks like

• Show them it's never too late to change

The cycle stops whenever you decide to stop it.

What They'll Remember

Your kids won't remember:

• That you didn't play pretend enough

• That you ordered takeout too much

• That you had days where you couldn't function

They'll remember:

• You showed up, even when it was hard

• You said "I'm sorry" when you messed up

• You were trying to be better

• You loved them fiercely

That's what breaks the cycle.

Not perfection. Effort.

The Promise You Can Make

You can't promise you'll never mess up.

You can't promise you'll always be present.

You can't promise you'll never trigger them.

But you can promise:

"I'm doing the work. I'm healing. I'm breaking the cycle. Because of you, I will not fail."

And then you show up—imperfectly, messily, honestly—and you do the work.

That's enough.

Ready to Do the Work?

Healing while parenting is hard. But you don't have to do it alone.

Phoenix Rising is a 30-day program designed for women healing from trauma—with daily nervous system practices, 24/7 support, and a community of mothers rising together.

Learn More About Phoenix Rising →

Or start with the free guide: "When You're Too Numb to Cry"

About the Author:

Lauren Tobey is a Trauma-Informed Coach (CPD Certified & IPHM Accredited), creator of The Phoenix Path, and a single mom to Madison and Damian. She got a phoenix feather tattooed on her foot with the words: "Because of you, I will not fail." This work is for them—and for you.