As many of you know, I’m sure, PITT recently republished this SMP guest-authored piece: The Third Path.
It seemed to be mostly well-received and many readers expressed gratitude and interest in the SMP. (Thank you,
and ) There was a comment that inspired some engagement around the idea of Stoicism and whether it is a sound and natural approach to parenting. Here is the quote that inspired that conversation in the comment section—and also inspired me to write this article that you’re currently reading:While this approach might be useful to at least try for parents of gender confused children in their twenties, this is ultimately nothing more than the woke agenda masquerading behind so called stoicism. Separating parents from children by telling parents that they have no control is one ideological aspects we are being indoctrinated with. Everyone seems to be saying that cultivating the attitude of compassionate detachment is hard work, and it is because it is it IS--it is artificial, unnatural, and in the vast majority of cases harmful in the long term. We are mothers and fathers who love our children passionately and we would die for them in a heartbeat. When our children hurt, we hurt, and this is how it is supposed to be. Yeah, this suck, but this is what happens to parents--"our hearts walk outside of our bodies." This is what love is. Subscribing to stoicism is trying to alter these most natural instincts and elevating detachments instead of attachment. While this can be a life saving pause during which we calm down and evaluate what to do next, this is not a sustainable long term approach at best, and it is harmful at worst because it is anti-relationship, anti-family, and pro-wokism.
I generally don’t engage much in the comment sections at other Substacks. (In fact, I rarely read gender-related news and if I do it’s because my attention has been specifically directed there because of its relationship to the SMP.) Truthfully, I’m not super interested in jumping into discussions elsewhere and persuading others that they need to do things my way; I try to stay in my lane and let people come to me if they’re interested in what I have to offer.
I did post a brief response to this comment, mostly so other readers knew of my response to Walk With Mom’s article and also that the SMP is very interested in attachment and keeping families together. That this is indeed the focus of the SMP: helping families be healthy because we agree here that parents are their children’s best bet, and that moms especially need support to hang in there as they navigate this destabilizing circumstance.
So I would like to take an opportunity to respond to this comment—that seemed a general critique of Stoicism, not this project specifically. I’m not sure she even knows of this work, but it seemed important to clear some things up if there was concern that Stoicism is dangerous, or anti-family—for SMP readers. My main concern for moms who are hurting for and with their children (as it is indeed very natural to do) is what they do with that pain.
Do they use the pain to self-harm? As a weapon against themselves? As a way to assess their parenting and the value of their own life? As a way to shut down and stop taking any pleasure in their existence? Their other relationships? I suspect if they identified fully with their role as mother, this is not an unlikely outcome. Grief will look an awful lot like this and is to be expected for a period of time after discovering something potentially devastating is happening in your family. But at some point, don’t we need to assess whether this is helping the situation? Who does your child need you to be? To model for them? What do they learn about handling life’s tragedies if we crumple and can’t find a way back up ourselves?
If this speaks to the experience you’re having, if you’ve convinced yourself you don’t deserve a full life because your child is hurting or seems lost right now, please consider the message this sends. Consider seeking the support you need to move through these difficult feelings so you can show up for yourself and your family. They still need you, no matter what they say or how they act. And I promise (and I don’t make promises lightly) that the world is a better place when you’re engaged in it, offering your unique gifts and delighting in your loved ones.
Maybe, instead of or in addition to self harm, parents use the pain to stoke feelings of rage and hatred? They declare war on external circumstances, the influences that brought this devastation into their homes. They devote all their attention and energy into changing reality and can’t see that they’re engaged in the very same emotional experience as their “enemy.” If someone has to win and someone has to lose, how much harder does everyone fight to be the victor? If your child aligns with the enemy’s paradigm, what does that make you to them? What does this approach do to the distance between you and your child?
If you’re starting to feel exhausted, burnt-out, impotent, like nothing is working and your child seems more and more unreachable, might it be time to consider whether fighting for a righteous cause is having the intended effect? Another mom commented on the PITT publication of The Third Path saying, “I want to keep my main focus on stopping the horror rather than managing my own emotions.” How do we appear to our children if we can’t manage our own emotions? Might that make us scary? Unsafe to bring their problems to? Could it be possible that all that energy would be better spent bolstering ourselves to be fully present in our parental role–for our kids–in these confusing and painful times?
What do I mean by our parental role? I want to be super careful here. So many parents believe this means making our kids lives look a certain way. Right? Like how else are we supposed to know that our parenting is working? Isn’t this the evidence? Our children being happy, successful, grateful for our amazing parenting that saved them so much pain and heartache? (Jeesh. Wouldn’t that be great?! We can dream, right?)
But what if what they need from us is not to fix their pain but to help them hold it. Like this mom said, “When our children hurt, we hurt, and this is how it is supposed to be.” Yes, this is how it is supposed to be. But if we can’t tolerate hurting, can’t be with our own pain, how are we supposed to be able to be there for our kids in theirs?
How do we make meaning of our children’s pain? As an indictment of ourselves or of the world? I think we’ve come to believe that we can somehow get through life without devastation. I hate to crush your dreams here, but life is devastating. Exquisitely so. If we don’t develop our capacity to move through devastation and intense emotion, letting it break our hearts open, then we close up, becoming rigid and guarded, always moving away from the very things that make life so breathtakingly beautiful.
And this is the message and approach of the SMP and why we use the ancient wisdom tradition of Stoicism (among others) to provide guidance. Stoicism invites us to reorient to our pain; recognizing the painful experiences in life as the path to developing our wisdom and adaptability while at the same time boosting our appreciation for when Life rolls along more smoothly, creating the capacity to take pleasure in the smallest of things.
Stoics hold in mind that everything dies. Change is inevitable and it is this very nature of reality that makes the current moment so achingly precious. They recognize that we only really have agency over our inner experience, and that to let external circumstances determine your wellbeing is to make yourself a prisoner to reality.
Stoics believe we have a responsibility to be good parents. I think this is where the confusion comes in. What is meant by “compassionate detachment”? It means being present and loving without being attached to what your child’s life needs to look like. It means loving them even when they’re difficult to love. It means being the person they know is big enough to tolerate whatever ugly mess they could possibly bring you without fear that you’ll come unhinged. (And if you do become unhinged, that you’ll find the courage to be vulnerable enough to repair the damage.) It means our kids can rest in the knowledge that their parents always hold them dear in our hearts, and are here to offer support and guidance through whatever they may be navigating.
Stoicism is ultimately about using the hard things (pain) to always be developing the capacity to navigate Life’s twists and turns, highs and lows—no matter how extreme—ethically and with grace and humanity, while knowing we can’t force others to do the same. By focusing our efforts in this way, we increase our agency and create rich, meaningful lives. This is what I’ve decided my kids need most from me; a(n imperfect) model of equanimity while doing what I can to ensure they sense that they are always (in the words of Dr. Lisa Miller) “loved, held, guided, and never alone.”
My deepest gratitude to the reader whose comment I quoted. I can sense and appreciate how deeply she loves her child(ren) and I also appreciate the inspiration to write this piece. I hope it has provided some clarity around what Stoicism is and isn’t as well as some potential ways to assess whether what you’re doing is working to support your experience and your parenting.
As always, hang in there, Mama! You’re doing a hard, hard thing and we live in confusing times. I hope this helps, even just a little.
I find it helpful to understand that the Serenity Prayer is a capsule summary of Stoicism, even though Niebuhr was not an adherent of the philosophy. "Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."
Thank you again, for somehow knowing exactly what I needed to hear when I needed it. Yesterday, after a very, very slight suggestion that my daughter is still wanting to be the opposite sex, I spiraled (on my own, away from my daughter) into both anger at the outside influences and also literally saying in my head to her, “Fine, I give up. Do whatever the hell you want. I’m done.” Thankfully, I have never “lost it” in front of my child yet, because I found you and others with wisdom in this situation before I had any conversation with her. It doesn’t mean one day I won’t, but hopefully I can continue to do what I’m doing by showing her I love her and trust her to make good decisions, and modeling handling my emotions when we do have challenging discussions. But it is always so, so hard.