Parenting on Purpose: How Understanding Myself Transformed My Journey as a Mom
Parenting is beautiful, messy, and, at times, incredibly humbling. For me, it’s been one of the most profound teachers in my life—but not always in ways I expected. If I’m being honest, one of my hardest lessons has been learning to understand and manage my own anger.
As a new parent, I made a commitment to not be an angry one. And quickly I learned that it is a more complicated, and beautiful process, than to simply make a sweeping statement of how I intended to show up. For years, I thought the problem was external—my kids not listening, the endless demands of motherhood, or the chaos of family life. But what I eventually realized was that my anger wasn’t about them; it was about me.
Anger and Feeling Out of Control
Looking back, I can see that my anger often reared its ugly face when I felt out of control. It wasn’t about the toys left scattered, or the constant interruptions, or the never-ending tasks that felt too mundane—it was about the overwhelming sense that I was running on empty, trying to keep everything together, and failing. Anger became my reaction to feeling powerless.
In those moments, my mind would spin with thoughts like, Why won’t anyone listen to me? Why am I the only one who cares about keeping things together? But beneath that frustration was a deeper truth: I didn’t know how to express my needs or ask for help. Instead of voicing what I needed, I let resentment build, and it would spill over as anger.
The worst part? After the anger passed, I’d feel awful—guilty, ashamed, and convinced I’d failed as a mom. I wanted to do better, but I didn’t know how.
Understanding What’s Under the Anger
It wasn’t until I began asking why I felt so angry that things began to shift. I realized my anger was pointing to something deeper. For me, it often came back to a need for control, for order, and for validation. I felt invisible when I was doing all the unseen work of parenting, and when things didn’t go as planned, it felt powerless, and like a personal failure.
I began to work on identifying my triggers and asking myself, What do I need right now? I learned that it was okay to admit I felt overwhelmed and even more okay to ask for help. I started making specific requests instead of expecting my family to read my mind. That shift—allowing myself to be vulnerable and honest—was one of the hardest but most freeing things I’ve ever done.
Lessons from Equine-Assisted Services
But to be honest, it was my work with equine-assisted services that ended up being a game-changer for me—providing deep insight and practice into the hows/whats/and whys of making requests appropriately and in a way that builds connection.
Working with horses has a way of stripping things down to their essence. Horses respond to energy and intention, not words. If you’re out of alignment emotionally or energetically, they know, and they’ll reflect that back to you.
One of the most powerful lessons I’ve learned from horses is how to manage my energy in the face of resistance. When you’re asking a horse to do something, you have to hold your request with calm, steady energy—even if the horse resists. If they ignore you, you increase the energy, not out of frustration but as a way to clarify what you’re asking. And when the horse responds, you immediately release the pressure as a sign of respect and partnership.
These principles were transformative for my parenting. When my kids resisted or ignored me, instead of escalating with anger, I practiced responding according to the principles I’d learned with the horses. When I needed to make my request clearer, I learned to increase my presence without letting frustration take over. And when they cooperated, I made sure to release the pressure and acknowledge their efforts. It’s a simple concept, but it’s so hard to do in practice—especially when emotions are running high. That’s why working through it with a horse first was so life-changing. It gave me a safe space to experiment and practice holding my own energy without reacting impulsively.
The Journey of Parenting on Purpose
I’m not going to lie—this is still a work in progress for me. There are days when I lose my temper or feel that old familiar pull of wanting to control everything. But now, I have tools to ground myself. I know how to step back, breathe, and ask myself, What’s really going on here? And I’ve learned that being honest about my feelings and my needs is precisely what ends up building connections with my family.
Parenting on purpose means understanding that our kids aren’t just learning from what we say—they’re learning from how we live. When I take the time to understand myself, I’m modeling self-awareness, emotional regulation, and communication for them. I’ve found there is freedom in not modeling perfection, but rather modeling authenticity. They see me working through my struggles instead of avoiding them, and that’s a lesson I hope they carry with them for life.
If you’re a parent who’s struggled with anger or the feeling of being out of control, I want you to know you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed, and it’s okay to need help at times. Start by asking yourself what’s really underneath those feelings, and give yourself the grace to work through it. For me, it’s been a messy, imperfect journey, but one that’s made me a more intentional, compassionate parent—and a better version of myself.