Creating Normalcy After Trauma: A Mother’s Perspective

Parenting opens a window into our own childhoods. Looking back on the years I raised my children, I see echoes of my past and the ways I worked to give them a different experience. I never wanted to intentionally revisit my childhood. It was full of trauma, abuse, and unpredictability, and for years, I tried to lock those memories away. Simply surviving it felt like enough.

Yet here I am, standing in the middle of a home I built with intention, realizing that my past does not have to define my children’s experience.

As a mother, I was determined to give my children a different life, one filled with stability, safety, and love. Every day, I worked to create normalcy for them, even though “normal” had never been part of my own upbringing.

I wanted them to experience holidays and daily life differently than I had. I spent hours in the kitchen, the smell of steaks, seafood, traditional Korean dishes, and fresh-baked cakes filling the house. I invited friends over, traveled across the country (Disney, Mexico, Europe, national parks etc) and created new holiday routines so we could celebrate together as a family. My hope was simple: for them to look forward to holidays, not fear them, and to have a home that felt safe, predictable, and full of love. Even as they went off to college, I wanted our home to remain a sanctuary where they could rest their souls and recharge.

“I fought every day to create normalcy for them, even though ‘normal’ was not part of my own upbringing. The fight was difficult because I never knew what ‘normal’ looked like, so I had to imagine it, drawing inspiration from my friends’ families and the movies I watched.”

I often tell my clients, especially moms who have endured traumas, how proud I am of them for creating something very different for their children. I always call it a “miracle.” Research shows that adults who experienced childhood abuse are at higher risk for parenting challenges, yet studies also show that emotional availability, resilience, and conscious effort can break generational cycles. Simply showing up with love, consistency, and presence can transform a child’s world.

Recently, I helped clients process their memories of holidays—a time that can be joyful or deeply painful depending on one’s childhood experiences. Growing up with a father who was an alcoholic, I lived in constant fear and unpredictability. Holidays often involved enduring my dad’s violent rage, which sometimes ended with death threats and destruction, leaving me in constant fear for my life and my family’s safety. It meant cleaning up broken bottles and dishes, and surviving endless drunken frenzies.

When I got a job in high school, I signed up to work on holidays whenever I could. It gave me a sense of safety, control, and small victories amidst chaos. Looking back, I realize that even in the most difficult circumstances, children find ways to survive, and that resilience can become a foundation for creating something new.

Today, my children are grown and living in different regions. The holiday scenery has shifted. Often, they cannot come home, and my husband and I celebrate alone. As an older parent, I am learning to grieve the loss of the celebrations I worked so hard to create. This grief feels heavier than I ever expected.

Empty-Nest & Holiday Grief

“He was gone, just gone.” Many parents recall the sudden emptiness when children leave for college or move out. (Newswise, 2018)

“I ache for the days when the kids were young. I longed for those days.” The empty-nest transition can trigger grief not just for absence, but for lost family rituals and shared holidays. (JillSavage.org)

“The hardest part isn’t that your children are gone. It’s pretending you’re not devastated.” Empty-nest parents can experience loneliness, sadness, and even a sense of lost identity. (Cleveland Clinic, 2021)

Psychological Insight:
Studies confirm that changes in family structure, routines, and holiday traditions can produce measurable emotional stress in older parents (PMC, 2017), highlighting the importance of acknowledging grief and creating new rituals.

Even in this grief, I remind myself that the legacy of love, safety, and joy I built is still present in my children’s lives, shaping them in ways I cannot always see. I am proud of the normalcy I created for them.

“Perhaps it is time for me to intentionally celebrate with my younger self, the child who never experienced the stability, warmth, and joy I worked so hard to provide. I told my husband the other day that, though it will be difficult, I am determined to give my younger self at least half the energy I gave my children—witnessing her childhood, the fear she endured day and night, and finally extending compassion to her.”

Parenting after trauma isn’t easy. I won’t sugarcoat that. But it’s possible, and it’s worth it. Healing and hope are possible. Your children can experience the stability, love, and normalcy you may never have known.

To anyone reading this who shares my past: every small act of love and consistency you give your children is a miracle, a new story of hope in the making, and a testament to how deeply your work as a parent matters even if nobody acknowledges it or your children may never fully realize it.