“I love my child more than anything—but sometimes I snap. I lose my patience over tiny things. I hate how I sound. Why does this keep happening?”

Not because you’re failing.
But because you’re carrying too much—without enough space to breathe.
Reactivity isn’t random.
It’s a flare from a nervous system stretched thin.

You don’t snap because of your child.
You snap because the invisible weight you’re holding has nowhere to land.

Let me ask gently:
Who sees you, as much as you see them?

Mother:
No one, really. I think I just keep going. There’s no time to stop.

GED Anen:
And yet your body stops you. Through the raised voice. The clenching jaw. The guilt after.
This isn’t weakness.
It’s a message.

Reactivity often comes from:
– unmet needs (physical and emotional)
– lack of repair (within yourself, not just with your child)
– inherited patterns you swore you'd never repeat, but still find yourself inside

You're not reacting to just what’s in front of you.
You're reacting to what’s never been fully felt.
To a backlog of self-abandonment.

And in the presence of your child—the one you love most—it leaks out.
Why?
Because that’s where you’re most vulnerable.
Where your guard is down.
Where your body says, “Maybe I can finally let it out here.”

Mother:
But they’re just a child. They don’t deserve that.

GED Anen:
And neither do you.
That’s the point.

You both deserve nervous systems that are nourished.
Not just managed.

So let’s begin here:
Not with perfection.
But with permission.

To pause before the spiral.
To name the need before it bursts.
To breathe before the shame story returns.

To say:
"I’m not angry at you. I’m overwhelmed. And I’m learning how to care for myself, too."

Mother:
But how do I change it?

GED Anen:
You don’t fix a trigger by fighting it.
You soften it by witnessing the story beneath it.

Let’s trace it:
When your child resists your voice, when they push limits, when they cry without reason—what does it touch in you?

Maybe it echoes a moment where you weren’t heard.
Where you had to shrink to be safe.
Where your own big feelings were too much for someone else.

So now, in the face of their bigness, yours erupts.

But here’s the miracle:
When you stay present through that,
When you choose to repair instead of retreat,
You rewrite the memory—not just for them,
But for you.

Mother:
So it’s not just parenting… it’s re-parenting myself?

GED Anen:
Exactly.
Your greatest challenge is also your greatest portal.

Because your child doesn’t need you to be flawless.
They need you to be real. Regulated. And willing to begin again.

Again and again.
Just like you’ve always done.

And that?
That’s not just parenting.
That’s transformation.