Parenting is hard. Like, holy hell, I-know-absolutely-nothing-what-is-even-happening, hard.

Unfortunately there is no manual. No “if X, then Y” flowchart for what to do when your kid melts down in the store, lies to your face, or suddenly turns into this teenage stranger you don’t even recognize. We’re all just out here flying by the seat of our pants, hoping we don’t mess it up too badly, yet still knowing the odds of our kids not going to therapy because of us are pretty slim. But at the end of the day, I think we all want the same thing—to just not raise assholes.

And honestly? That alone is a full-time job.

Most of us start this journey young and exhausted. I think at this point, I’ve mostly blocked out the early days, the sleepless nights and functioning on fumes while a tiny human refuses to sleep unless they’re on our chest. People always say: “Enjoy every moment, it goes by so quickly” yet in those moments we’re just silently begging for three consecutive hours of sleep and no one touching us.

Then the babies grow into toddlers and we’re thrown into a whole new level—tiny, opinionated humans with big feelings and zero coping skills (granted that also sounds like some adults these days, but alas, I digress.) Next, the sleepless nights transform into endless days of tantrums, unexpected public meltdowns, and power struggles over shoes, snacks, and absolutely nothing at all.

At this point we’re convinced now must be the hardest part but unfortunately it’s not. Because as I’m learning, bigger kids mean bigger problems.

But one day before we know it, the tantrums fade and in their place comes something heavier. They start growing up. They start discovering who they are. Their opinions deepen and to them, those opinions are facts. Their emotions get more complex. Their world expands beyond you. They meet new people, people whose parents you don’t know but you’re supposed to automatically trust. And suddenly parenting isn’t about keeping them alive or managing outbursts—it’s about guiding them. But doing it without controlling, teaching without imposing, and loving without clinging, the clinging that somehow you suddenly realize you’re now missing.

The parental shift has hit, and so the “fun” begins.

Because now we’re tasked with helping them navigate identity, friendships, failures, confidence, and values—all while slowly loosening our grip. We want to protect them from pain, but we know we can’t. We want to guide them, but we also have to let them become their own person, and that person just might not be a reflection of us. And that’s okay, because they are their own unique individual. It’s a fine line between that constant push and pull—hold on, let go— and this might be the hardest balance of all.

But that’s just the beginning.

Now we add modern parenting into the mix, and it’s no longer a small audience. Parenting used to happen mostly within our families and maybe extend to our “village.” But now, thanks to social media, it feels like a public performance. Every choice—screens, snacks, discipline, education—comes with a commentary section. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone has a video or post explaining why their way is the right way.

It’s easy to scroll and wonder if you’re the only one struggling, the only one whose kid isn’t perfectly behaved or emotionally regulated at all times. Because according to Bob, Jane and even crazy Joe down the street, their families appear perfect, and somehow they seem to have their shit together. But do they really?

On top of the fake facade of social media perfection, we’re drowning in parenting styles. Gentle. Firm. Old school. Attachment-based. Somewhere along the way, parenting became a philosophical battleground, and we’re expected to get it exactly right. But every kid is different. What worked beautifully for child #1 can be a complete disaster for child #2. We’re supposed to be patient but firm, empathetic but consistent, understanding but not permissive, all the while trying to juggle work, marriage, finances, and our own mental and physical health.

Every generation wants to do better—whatever “better” means—while still carrying the echoes of our own childhoods. But each generation and childhood comes with different rules, expectations, and emotional norms based on the current status of society and technology. Unfortunately there is no clear blueprint.

Through all of this, we second-guess ourselves constantly. Did I say the right thing? Should I have handled that differently? Am I being too soft or too hard? Am I preparing them for the real world or shielding them too much? And yet, despite all the noise, the exhaustion, the fear of getting it wrong—I truly believe most of us want the same thing.

We just want to raise good humans. Not perfect ones. Not kids who never struggle or mess up. That version does.not.exist. What we’re trying to raise are good humans—ones who are kind, accountable and empathetic. Humans who can apologize, learn, grow, and care about people beyond themselves. Humans who can recognize that it’s not always just about them.

Getting there is not easy, and it means constantly navigating obstacles we never anticipated, adapting as they change, and learning right alongside them. Parenting is not about having all the answers. It’s about showing up, again and again, willing to adjust, willing to listen, and most importantly, willing to love through every phase, even the ones that break our hearts a little.

We will be exhausted.We will doubt ourselves. But we will figure things out as we go. Because we’re doing it with intention. And in the end, that effort—the showing up, the caring, the trying—that’s what really shapes good humans. That is what counts. That is exactly what this world needs.