Some hearts are born generous; they will give their last meal, their last breath, their last bit of strength to someone they love, without thinking twice. These hearts don’t wait for praise. They just give. And too often… they are the ones misunderstood the most.
Not by strangers. Not by friends.
But by the very ones they raised with trembling hands and sleepless prayers.
You may ask yourself, “Why is it my own blood that sees me with such blind eyes?”
You gave, and gave, and gave. You forgave when no one knew what you were forgiving. You swallowed pain to feed peace. And still, the people you love most have turned around and said, “You don’t understand.” They speak with sharp words, not curious ones. They react, not reflect.
And their tone? It vibrates like a blade against your chest, severing connection not just from your ears… but your soul.
🖍From a Therapist’s Chair: What’s Really Happening
Psychology tells us that when someone lashes out, it’s rarely just about now. It’s a culmination of conditioned defensiveness, suppressed pain, inherited trauma. Sometimes young adults, needing to feel powerful, will reject anything that resembles vulnerability. Including… their parents’ soft wisdom.
Therapists call this intergenerational rupture. It happens when empathy fails to be passed down as a legacy. Instead, ego takes its place.
This new generation, so saturated in autonomy and immediacy, often forgets that respect is not silence from fear, but silence from grace. That sometimes the kindest thing you can do is pause. Not agree. Just… pause. Long enough to ask:
“What was my mother trying to say beneath that tone?”
“What pain shaped my father’s stubbornness?”
But instead, they snap back. Loud. Harsh. Final.
And you, the giver, the gentle one, sit in a room filled with history, wondering how love came to feel so lonely.
🩸Respect Isn’t Dead; But It Is Unlearned
Respect, in its truest form, isn’t about obedience. It’s about recognition. Of story. Of struggle. Of survival.You may not always say the perfect words. You may have been raised in a time where expression came with restraint. But your heart still meant well. And that matters. Yet today, many measure worth by wealth. Power. Influence. The same children who once needed you to tie their shoelaces now talk down to your wisdom like it’s irrelevant. This is not just rude. This is psychological dissonance — a loss of the sacred memory of care.
💬 To Every Parent Reading This…
You are not weak for wanting kindness. You are not dramatic for feeling heartache. You are not alone. If you’ve ever sat in the aftermath of a hurtful conversation thinking, “How did my love become invisible?” I see you. If you’ve ever wanted your child to say, “I’m sorry,” not because you were right, but because you deserved tenderness, you are not unreasonable.
And if you’ve ever cried quietly, protecting your child’s reputation while they publicly rejected your values you are profoundly brave.
đź•ŻFinal Reflection
The hearts that give without limits often receive the least understanding. But don’t let their dismissal define your worth. You are the echo of every lullaby. The architect of resilience they now use to fight you.
The soil beneath their confidence.
And while they may not say thank you, your love still lives in every corner of their life, whether they admit it or not.
With understanding – By Naazi Morad
