As a recovered alcoholic I know what it is to defend, rationalise and justify my own mistakes. There was a time I would rather die than admit I was wrong – about anything.
It’s a prideful spirit that refuses to see past honesty in oneself. And I carried that spirit through fear and bitterness for many years.

In becoming a parent it was a spirit that didn’t have a place in my home. If I continued to refuse to take responsibility for my mistakes my children would grow up in my dishonesty. They too would learn that it’s bad to be wrong, rather than have the courage to admit fault from time to time.

We all know that person in our lives, maybe at work, maybe at home who refuses to hold their hand up when the light of truth is shone on them. It creates frustration and a distrust. They can drive us nut’s. Yet they refuse to admit there is a problem. Forgive them by not being angry, they are full of fear and something has caused them to be that way.

As a child I became that person from an early age. I would lie because I didn’t want to get in trouble with my dad. I would lie because I didn’t want to look stupid to my friends, I would lie because I was frightened. And eventually I lied because that’s just how I coped with my inferiority.

There are many things that had to drastically change when I became a parent. Behaviours that if ignored and allowed to continue would affect those closest to me.

I want my children to trust me, and see that it’s okay to be wrong from time to time. That there is nothing weak in having a humility, in fact – quite the opposite. It is how they will grow in a healthy environment. After all if we were never wrong, we would never evolve. Growth comes from making mistakes. And as a parent I will inevitably make many down the line. And that’s just how it will be.

 

 

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