Stepping Out of the Distorted Mirror: Recognizing the Parent You Truly Are
When Self-Doubt Feeds the Beast
How trauma, control, and distorted mirrors echo through generations
In my book Unbroken Legacy: The Divine Seed, the Beast represents the developmental trauma that we carry through the generations. It is dangerous because it’s a creature of psychic distortion, feeding on the main character’s fear, shame, and self-doubt. The more Horatio questions himself, the stronger the Beast becomes. That’s how emotional control works, too. It doesn’t always scream. It whispers. It undermines. It grows quietly in the shadows of uncertainty — and it continues to re-establish control when it feels its grip on you slipping.
Recently, this metaphor resurfaced in real life while co-parenting. My ex has a pattern of casting doubt on my ability to lead as a father, of trying to make me feel small, ineffective, and the one responsible for damaging my daughter’s emotional development. I have felt confused by these accusations in the past, and have needed to reflect on them. Do I cause the problems for my daughter like she says I do? I don’t believe that is what is happening. So why is she viewing me through a distorted mirror? And what does she gain by believing in such a warped reflection?
💬“That’s how emotional control works, too. It doesn’t always scream. It whispers. It undermines.”
The beast of unhealed childhood trauma never really goes away. It waits in the wings, watching — ready to reappear through new faces, familiar tones, and old wounds. Because when you have unhealed trauma, wounds don’t stay buried in the past. They return, mirrored through different voices, replayed in new scenes — but echoing the same old pattern. And during that conversation, with my ex it hit me: I’ve been here before. Not just in this discussion — but in my childhood. I wasn’t simply being critiqued as a parent. I was being pulled back into a familiar role: The boy who couldn’t get it right, no matter what he did.
A mythic journey through trauma, healing, and the power of belief.
💬“When you have unhealed trauma, wounds don’t stay buried in the past. They return, mirrored through different voices, replayed in new scenes — but echoing the same old pattern.”
The Contradiction That Revealed the Pattern
My ex and I were speaking to our daughter about a hurtful comment she made to her babysitter. My daughter, who is on the autism spectrum and has developmental delays, struggles with emotional regulation and with behavior. I gently explained to my daughter that the babysitter loves her, but if she continues to say things that are hurtful, the babysitter might choose not to come back (This has happened before, and it has been very difficult find a good babysitter.) My ex-wife immediately shut me down, saying, "Don't shame her. You need to teach her." This is a recurring pattern in our co-parenting dynamic, and it’s deeply frustrating, because despite years of couples therapy during our marriage, she still continues to undermine me in front of the kids. After sending my daughter to a different room, I pointed out to my ex that if anything, she was the one shaming me by cutting me off as I am speaking to our daughter about her behavior. She reluctantly apologized.
As I left my ex’s house, she pulled me aside and told me, "Your daughter completely controls you," citing the fact that I had not forced her to provide a urine sample for a medical test earlier that morning. But these statements are contradictory. On one hand, I was supposedly too harsh when discussing the babysitter. On the other, I was supposedly too permissive when it came to getting the urine sample. In fact, I had good reason for not getting the urine sample that morning. I wasn’t avoiding the task — I was timing it in a way that supported both my daughter’s needs and my responsibilities. My daughter can become very defiant when pressured. This would probably caused my daughter to miss the bus to school which was an hour away. I knew I was going to have a busy morning at work, and needed to be there on-time. And I knew that the sample could be taken later that day or even by the school nurse.
That’s when it clicked. This wasn’t about my daughter. This was about control. About power. About a dynamic that has echoed across time and relationships. It’s a distorted mirror I’ve been staring into for most of my life.
💬“And just like in Unbroken Legacy — emotional control doesn’t always scream. It whispers. It undermines. That’s how the Beast survives.”
Recognizing the Mirror, and Who’s Holding It
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, in his book Crime and Punishment said, “the best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he doesn't know he is in prison.” And when a parent sees themselves through a warped lens, they often don’t realize they’re parenting from inside a prison of inherited pain. When you see yourself through that distorted looking glass, you are that prisoner because you perceive the reflection as the truth. But it is a lie, a lie you've been programmed since childhood to believe. Unhealed trauma works the same way. Like the elephant raised in captivity, tied to a spike it could never escape — now grown, it could easily break free, but doesn’t. It’s been conditioned to believe it can’t. Emotional trauma convinces us of the same lie: that we’re still trapped, still powerless, when in truth, we are free. Dostoyevsky continues to express wisdom when he says, “Above all, avoid lies, all lies, especially the lie to yourself. ”
💬“That’s when it clicked. This wasn’t about my daughter. This was about control. About power. About a dynamic that has echoed across time and relationships. It’s a distorted mirror I’ve been staring into for most of my life.”
Looking back on my recent co-parenting experience, I think my ex-wife was clearly projecting her own anxiety, shame, or unresolved issues onto me. She framed my flexibility or emotional sensitivity as “weakness” or “ineffectiveness” And she needed to feel competent or superior — and did so by undermining me. My ex-wife’s comment: “She completely controls you.” is less about my daughter and more about her discomfort with my different parenting approach — likely rooted in her own need for control. She feels more in control when she casts doubt on my fatherhood, safer when I shrink, justified when I doubt myself. In that moment, she was feeding the Beast — not out of malice, but because it’s what she knows. Control feels like safety when you’ve never known trust. Much like the Beast from my story, her power seemed to feed off my hesitation. And it was familiar to me. Because my mother, who also has her own unhealed trauma, did the same thing when I was growing up. In both relationships, the distorted mirror kept reflecting one message: You can’t be trusted. You’re weak. You’re not enough.
And her follow-up, using the pee sample incident as a kind of proof, disregards the nuance, urgency, and reality I was navigating. I was balancing my daughter’s known behavioral patterns (oppositional defiance, resistance to pressure), a time-sensitive work situation ( my job observation), and absence of prior coordination from my ex-wife (who’d held the cup for a month). I was not being permissive or avoidant. I was being realistic and prioritizing stability.
I Was Not the Problem — the Dynamic Was
That feeling of constantly being pulled into reaction mode in my marriage — especially when trying to implement my own parenting or relationship vision — was exactly how emotionally undermining systems work. They function by:
Forcing you to justify instead of initiate
Placing you in a cycle of defense instead of leadership
Defining your success through someone else’s inconsistent approval
And when that happens in front of your children, the impact is even deeper — not just for them, but for you. It robs you of your confidence. It muddles your instincts. And over time, it can make you second-guess your own clarity. But here’s the truth: I am no longer living in that dynamic. Once I recognized the mirror wasn’t mine — I stopped trying to fix the reflection and started reclaiming my own image. I am actively choosing a different path, even if the echo of that distortion still lingers.
Bad Parenting or Evolved Fatherhood?
Some people confuse compliance with care and structure with power. My ex-wife may view my daughter’s noncompliance as dangerous because it triggers her need to control outcomes — to dominate behavior through force or shame. But I am learning to understand the context, protect my relationship with my daughter, and guide her from a place of connection instead of trying to dominate through power. That’s not passivity. That’s evolved fatherhood.
What True Fatherhood Looks Like
I wasn’t being controlled by my daughter. I was making a conscious decision, based on her behavioral patterns, my work responsibilities, and my knowledge of what would escalate her resistance. That’s not surrender. That’s strategic fatherhood. True fatherhood isn’t about overpowering your child. It’s about anchoring them. About knowing when to hold the line, and when to hold space. It’s about connection, not control. When you are a father who leads with calm, clarity, and empathy, you are not being passive. You are being powerful in a different way — in a way that breaks cycles rather than reenacting them.
💬”True fatherhood isn’t about overpowering your child. It’s about anchoring them. About knowing when to hold the line, and when to hold space. It’s about connection, not control.”
Reclaiming the Truth About My Worth
Maybe I didn’t always believe I was a good enough parent — not in my ex’s eyes, not always in my own. But I’m learning that worth isn’t earned through perfection. It’s reclaimed by choosing presence over performance, connection over control, and truth over distortion.
It is possible to step away from that distorted lens, to break the pattern, and to see myself in an authentic looking glass. One that reflects not fear or shame, but purpose and truth. I needed to remember: I am not the boy my mother shamed. I am not the husband my ex-wife tried to shrink. I am a father — awake, reflective, and reclaiming my voice. I don’t need their approval to lead with love and strength. I already am.
💬“I needed to remember: I am not the boy my mother shamed. I am not the husband my ex-wife tried to shrink. I am a father — awake, reflective, and reclaiming my voice.”
