A Mother’s Agony: Regret, Repression, and the Courage to See

A Mother’s Agony: Regret, Repression, and the Courage to See

Facing the Unforgivable in Ourselves

True liberation demands compassion—even when walking away from those who refuse to face their own repression. We cannot let them make us scapegoats for pain they won’t feel.

In the preface to Paths of Life, Alice Miller cracks open a window to her private hell: the agony of realizing too late that she failed her son. Her words aren’t literature—they’re a warning flare fired at young parents: "Don’t repeat my mistakes."

"It hurts to see how, with more information, many things could have turned out better, and that much cannot be made good again. My stories arose from the wish to spare other people what I have suffered myself."
— Alice Miller, Paths of Life

I ache for her son—trapped in the emotional prison she built by not shielding him from an abusive father. I ache for Miller herself—the child who endured repression, and the mother who later understood she’d passed it on.

But this? To know you broke your own child? To see them frozen in time because you lacked the courage to protect them? This is a parent’s deepest wound. No wonder denial is their oxygen. No wonder they blame the child.

Why I Chose to be Childless Over Inheritance

I never had children. I felt it in my bones: I didn’t have what it took to raise a conscious human being. The risk of harming a life I’d created? Unbearable. Alice Miller’s courage staggers me—to stare into that abyss, own her failure, then spend decades shouting into the void: "WAKE UP!"

Most parents never will. They’ll bury the evidence. Blame their children. Use anyone within reach to numb their guilt.

Marshall Rosenberg knew this hell:

"If you want my definition of hell? Having children while believing ‘good parents’ exist. You’ll drown in depression for years. You’ll do things you wish you hadn’t. It’s the hardest, most important job—and we always fail."

The Gift in the Wound

Miller’s pain became her power. Her regret forged weapons: books that slice through denial. She stood naked before the truth:

• That her "ignorance" shattered her son.

• That love means seeing the damage we do.

• That breaking cycles demands brutal self-honesty.

This is why her work terrifies and heals. She refused the anesthesia of self-pity. She let the wound bleed onto the page.

To every parent reading this:
Your children aren’t projects. They’re mirrors.
Stop polishing the glass.
Start seeing the cracks.

Read more: The Courage of Alice Miller Was Astonishing
Also, read my original blog HERE