How FIRE Made Me a Better Parent – Millennial Revolution

They say parenting lets you relive your childhood. Great, if you had an awesome one.  Not so great if you didn’t. Mine nearly made me swear off having kids forever.

It wasn’t just the yelling, the constant criticism, or the way love felt like a performance review I could never pass. It was that the one person who was supposed to love, care for, and protect me, instead kicked me when I was down.

Some people remember how they healed from sickness when they were children, nestled in their mother’s arms, their refuge from the world.

I remember, lying in bed, trying desperately to suppress my coughs to avoid getting smacked. My illness kept my mother awake and it was my fault because I defied her by not wearing a coat. That’s why I deserved to get hit. One slap for every cough.

I remember having to lie to my kindergarten teacher and pretend that my many bruises were from being hit by a bike.

I remember being sent to school with the mumps, a scarf wrapped around my neck to hide my illness.  Then later shaking in fear from having to face my mom after my teacher discovered I was contagious and sent me home.

So, I grew up telling myself I’m not doing this to someone else. I’m not repeating this cycle. If I ever have kids—and that was a big IF—I sure as hell won’t do it while barely hanging on.

One of the reasons why my mother treated me this way was because we were so poor at one point, she had 5 Chinese Yuan to her name. That’s 70 cents USD—all the money she had in the world. My Dad was still in school and couldn’t work to help her out yet.

I would never become a parent unless I was financially set for life.

Luckily, I discovered the FIRE movement. And while FIRE doesn’t fix all your problems, it sure as hell, gives you time so you can fix it yourself.

Money Can’t Heal You, But It Can Make Healing Possible

I was against having kids for the longest time because I believed that I would pass down my generational trauma. No amount of spreadsheeting could change that.

Even after becoming a millionaire and retiring in my 30s, I was still very much broken on the inside.

After all, you don’t wake up financially independent and suddenly stop flinching when someone raises their voice.

You don’t stop tearing up in anger when “A Song for Mama” by Boyz II Men comes on the radio, with the lyrics:

“You were there for me to love and care for me
When skies were gray
Whenever I was down
You were always there to comfort me”

You don’t stop wondering: Where was I for the comfort? Where was I for the “love and caring?” How come I was only there for the beatings and shaming?

While I can’t promise this for everyone who suffered child abuse, what surprised me was how much parenting would heal me. Instead of passing down generational trauma, I was able to break it. Instead of flying off the handle every time the relentlessness of parenting got to me and taking it out on my kid, I was able to recover and stay sane because FIRE gave me the time to do so.

Here’s what I learned from having to parent from a place of childhood trauma while being financially independent:

Don’t relive your childhood. Rewrite it.

The other day my son bit me so hard he drew blood. This was for the crime of talking to my landlord for 15 whole minutes and ignoring him in his stroller.

If I’d done this as a child, my mother would’ve screamed at me, hit me, and then locked me in a dark room for hours as punishment.

But instead, I pulled my hand away and calmly reminded him to use his words not his teeth when he’s frustrated. There was no hitting, no screaming, no dark rooms. I know that my son will make more mistakes like this in the future, and it will take many tries and re-enforcing the rules to get his still developing little brain to understand. But I was able to rewrite this story. And many other childhood stories since.

As a result, the painful images of my childhood have now been painted over with fresh new memories.

Instead of a terrified little girl, constantly afraid of being hit by her mother, my memories are now of my son, a happy little boy, who giggles and runs to me for hugs. He isn’t afraid of making mistakes and when he’s sick, I will give him hugs, kisses, and unconditional love.

Parenting isn’t about perfection; it’s about always trying to do better.

I’m not perfect. In fact, I don’t believe the perfect parent exists. We are all human, and we all make mistakes. The point of parenting isn’t to never make a mistake. It’s to own up to your mistakes and promise your kids you will do better.

I know I will get this wrong often. There will be times when I fly off the handle. There will be times when I’m so sleep deprived and delirious that I inadvertently yell at my kid at 3 AM for crying incessantly. And yes, I’ve even lost control before and smacked him on the bum for deliberately flipping over his dinner plate during a tantrum, only to feel horrible and apologize afterwards, terrified he will hate me. This doesn’t mean I’ve failed, and that he’ll resent me forever for repeating the cycle of generational trauma. It means I’m human and I’m accepting myself for the flawed parent that I am. And that I promise him I will never stop trying, never stop growing, and never stop loving him.

Be the Mother You Needed as a Child

I’ve never appreciated FIRE to the extent that I do now.  Without being able to quit my stressful job, without the ability to accomplish my dream of writing, and without the time and space to finally heal from my childhood trauma, there’s no way I could’ve been a good parent.

Once I had my son, I couldn’t believe how my mother could hurt a helpless child. It was unfathomable how you could feel no guilt for breaking your child’s spirit and feel sadistic glee from watching your child humiliate themselves, just so you could feed your ego.

I know that a lot of my mother’s trauma comes from her even deeper trauma as a child. After all, she was forced to endure the Cultural Revolution in China, a famine, and political persecution that saw her family members executed by the Communists. It didn’t start with her. But it was going to end with me. Even if I don’t get it right 100% of the time, I will never stop trying.

And now, because FIRE helped me rewrite my childhood, I can finally listen to “A Song for Mama” and not breakdown in tears. Because I’m not thinking about my mom at all when it comes on. I’m thinking about me. Because now I’m that mother.  I’m the one doing the loving, the caring, providing the comfort.

I’m the mother I needed as a child.

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If you had a difficult childhood, I see you and I’m so sorry this happened to you. You are not alone.