When Our Child’s Tears Mirror Our Own: Breaking the Cycle of Emotional Projection

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”

Carl Jung

Why do we sometimes get triggered by our children’s emotions?

One word: Projection.

It sounds simple, but it’s layered and deeply human. Projection means we unconsciously place our own unresolved feelings onto others—often without realizing it. And with parenting, this tends to show up when our kids express emotions we weren’t allowed to feel growing up.


When Their Emotions Stir Something In Us

Let’s say your child starts crying over something that seems small—maybe they can’t get their shoes on. You feel irritation rise. You say, “You’re fine. Stop crying. It’s not a big deal.”

But under that reaction might be this:

You weren’t allowed to cry when you were small. You were told to toughen up. Crying meant weakness. And now, when your child does what you weren’t permitted to do, it brings up old pain you never had space to process.

What you’re feeling isn’t just about their emotion—it’s about your history with that emotion.

How Do We Break the Cycle?

1. Pause Before Reacting

Even a brief pause creates space. In that moment, silently ask yourself:

“What am I feeling right now?” “Is this about them… or something unresolved in me?”

This small habit can change everything.

2. Get Curious Instead of Controlling

Shift from, “This needs to stop,” to, “What are they trying to express?”

Emotions are messages. Our children are not giving us a hard time—they’re having a hard time.

3. Reflect on Your Own Story

Later, when things are quiet, explore:

“Was I allowed to feel this as a child?” “What did I learn about emotions like anger or sadness?”

Self-awareness is the first door to healing.

4. Reparent Yourself as You Parent Your Child

When your child is upset, respond with:

To them: “It’s okay to feel that way. I’m here.” To yourself: “I wasn’t taught this, but I’m learning now. We’re both safe.”

You’re not just raising a child—you’re healing generations.

5. Offer Yourself Compassion

Getting triggered doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means there’s something inside you that’s asking to be felt, seen, and gently loved. The more grace you give yourself, the more you’ll have to give.

This work isn’t easy. But every time you choose to pause, to stay present, and to feel instead of react, you are breaking a cycle—and building a new legacy.

One where emotion is not feared, but welcomed.

One where your child feels safe to be fully themselves.

And one where you get to heal in the process.

The Memory Of A Strangers Care

Have you ever wondered who remembers you—and why? I often think about the strangers who remain vivid in my mind, sometimes for the smallest, most random moments. You never know how a single encounter might linger in someone’s life—or how you might have touched theirs.

There’s one memory I carry with me that I still wonder about, even now, nearly twenty years later. It was nighttime, and I was crying in my car—not bawling, but tears were quietly streaming down my face. I pulled up to a red light and glanced out the window. In the car next to me, a stranger looked back. His face was filled with genuine concern as he mouthed, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, assuring him I was fine, even though I wasn’t. The light turned green, and just like that, the moment ended.

What I noticed after I drove away was that I had been seen. This stranger didn’t just glance over; he noticed me. He waited for me to meet his eyes before silently asking if I was okay. Even now, as I write this, I’m thinking about him. I can’t remember what he looked like, but I’ll never forget the care in his expression.

It makes me realize how much people care—sometimes even without knowing us. When we see someone hurting, we feel it too. Empathy can be immediate and unspoken.

I’ve always believed that if I had shaken my head, if I had signaled that I wasn’t okay, this person would have followed me or stopped to help. That’s the depth of concern I felt in that fleeting moment.

For the record, I remember why I was crying that night—I had just had a fight with my boyfriend. But what stayed with me wasn’t the fight or the tears. It was the stranger’s compassion, so simple yet profound.

Sometimes, I wonder if he remembers me—the girl crying in the car at a red light. Maybe he doesn’t. But the fact that he cared enough to check on me is something I’ll always carry.

Some memories stay with us because they make us feel something. And those feelings—those moments of connection—can’t be erased.