Parenting in a Screen-Driven World: Trusting the Hard Path

 Parenting is very tricky. What I feel today is this: if you carefully think about everything your child is exposed to—just like you would read all the ingredients before feeding them—you begin to make better choices for them.

Eat right. Read the ingredients on the box before giving anything to your child. Don’t look for shortcuts or quick snack options. Instead of reaching for packaged baby food, take a moment—cut a fresh carrot. Think about where the food is coming from. Fresh, real food matters.

Give your child the same food you eat—food that is freshly cooked, not something that comes out of a can or a frozen box. With every spoon that goes into your child’s mouth, ask yourself: what nutrients is my child gaining from this?

And it’s not just about food—it’s about everything they consume.

If your child sleeps on time, if you manage to limit screen use, and if they spend time playing outside, talking to people, and looking others in the eye, then you are doing something right.

The world today, the way education is changing, and the rise of artificial intelligence can feel overwhelming. But if your child can grow up without the anxiety caused by screens and social media, their healthy mind will be able to do whatever they want in life.

They may sometimes feel out of place in the world around them, and during this journey you might even doubt yourself. But I promise you—you are on the right path.

If you are doing these things, you have already won half the battle.

Trust me—no one really cares about the photoshoots, the perfect clothes, or how clean everything looks all the time. People might see a picture for a few seconds, say “adorable,” and then move on with their own lives. Because everyone is on their own journey.

What truly matters is not how things look from the outside, but how your child is growing on the inside—their health, their habits, their mind, and their ability to connect with the real world.

And remember—kids are resilient. When you nourish them well, both physically and emotionally, they grow stronger than we often imagine.

 

Equality, Motherhood, and the Unequal Emotional Burden in Family Breakdown

There is constant discussion today about feminism and women’s empowerment. We hear the word equality everywhere—on social media, in workplaces, and in public debate. But despite how frequently it is used, I often find myself wondering what it truly means in real life.

Is equality about equal income? Sharing household responsibilities? Equal participation in childcare? Or is it something deeper—something rooted in lived emotional experience rather than just practical arrangements?

These are thoughts that often come to me in quiet moments, even during everyday routines like driving to work. And I keep returning to the same question: can men and women ever truly be equal when their lived experiences, especially during emotional crises, can feel so different?

In my 43 years of life, I have not yet encountered a man who fully understands or experiences the emotional reality that many women carry. This is not meant as a universal statement, but as a personal reflection shaped by observation and experience. Men and women may share the same environment, but they do not always experience it in the same way.

One of the most profound differences becomes visible during relationship breakdowns, especially when children are involved. I have deep respect for women who find the strength to walk away from unhappy or unhealthy relationships even after becoming mothers. That decision is never simple—it requires immense emotional strength, clarity, and endurance.

Because motherhood does not pause when life becomes difficult. A mother cannot simply step away to heal in isolation. Even in emotional distress, she must continue to function—waking up each morning, caring for her children, maintaining routines, going to work, and managing household responsibilities. Life continues, regardless of internal pain.

In contrast, it can often appear that others in the same situation have more flexibility—to step back, rebuild, or continue life at a different pace. Meanwhile, the mother remains fully immersed in daily responsibility, carrying both emotional and practical burdens at the same time.

Children, too, are deeply affected by emotional instability in the household. Even when they try to cope, their behaviour often reflects what they feel internally. In such situations, the parent who appears more stable is often seen as the “stronger” one. More often than not, this role and judgement falls on the mother.

What makes this even more difficult is the constant balancing act between work, childcare, household duties, and social expectations. Alongside this is an emotional weight that is hard to explain—the quiet guilt of seeing a child struggle emotionally, even when every effort is being made to hold life together.

It is often said that children are resilient and may not remember these difficult periods later in life. That may be true. But for a mother living through it, every moment can feel intense and overwhelming. When you are already stretched emotionally and physically, even small things can feel magnified.

And so I come to a final question that stays with me deeply.

When parents are separated, and an incident occurs during the breakdown of a relationship, why is it often the mother who is expected to step in and solve everything alone? Why is it not always both parents equally responsible?

Why does it seem that fathers often retain more freedom of choice, while mothers are expected to carry the emotional, practical, and parental burden—regardless of their own pain, circumstances, or capacity at that time?

These are not accusations, but genuine questions that come from lived experience and reflection. If we truly speak about equality, then responsibility, accountability, and emotional labour must also be shared equally—especially in the most difficult moments of family breakdown.

Perhaps real equality is not only about rights or roles, but about how we share the weight of responsibility when life becomes hardest.