The Old Role Switcheroo

I’ve noticed something in my relationship with my parents—it feels like I stepped into the parental role way too early in life. Recently, I read an article in the Chicago Tribune that confirmed this isn’t uncommon. More and more kids are becoming the “grown-ups” in their homes before they even hit adulthood. And honestly? It feels a little unfair.

I remember my own teenage years being mostly secluded. Sure, I had moments of escape, like going to band camp. But when I came home, I was expected to take care of my younger sister. It always felt like my mom either didn’t notice her misbehavior or just let her do what she wanted. And my dad? He stopped being a part of our lives when I was 14. He only resurfaced about three years ago.

By 16, I was the one keeping an eye on my sister, trying to make sure she wasn’t sneaking around with the neighbor or coming home with a hickey that my mom would notice. I felt like I had to be responsible for her, and it left me longing for something deeper with my mom—a connection I never really got.

When I finally left for college, it felt like I was doing something just for me—a bold step toward independence. But I carried a heavy guilt. After I left, things seemed to fall apart for my sister. She dropped out of high school, moved in with her boyfriend at 16, and I constantly wondered: What if I hadn’t left?

After many years of therapy—and lots of sessions with the Comedian, my in-house therapist—I’ve come to realize something important: I was too young to be anyone’s savior. I wasn’t responsible for my sister’s choices. But that early sense of responsibility shaped me. It showed up in my relationships too. I kept dating people I thought I could “fix.” (If I had a dollar for every time...)

I mean, I once picked up an ex-boyfriend from a bus stop just so we could hang out—because he “couldn’t make it all the way.” That was the norm for me. Until I met the Comedian. He was the first person who took care of me, and in return, I got to take care of him. That mutual support was a whole new experience.

The Chicago Tribune article described kids just like me:

“A straight-A student comes home and starts supper, knowing she’ll spend the evening listening to her dad talk about his troubled personal life.”

“A young beauty-pageant contestant beams at her mom, who is proud to call her daughter her best friend.”

I know people who lived this. And even as adults, it feels like our parents pull us back into those same roles—the ones where we had to grow up too fast.

That instinct to take care of everyone? It still lingers. I still catch myself wanting to fix everything for my family. But for my own well-being and sanity, I’ve learned something critical:

It’s okay to step back.

Let them figure it out sometimes. Because healing your own inner child often means releasing the need to parent everyone else.

Who do I want to be?

A couple of nights ago, I was talking with the Comedian about my last blog post. We ended up deep in conversation about the human condition and our parents—how much of who we are is shaped by them, and how much we get to decide for ourselves.

Growing up, I used to compare my parents to my friends’ parents and wish things had been different. My dad had left, and my mom, while present, wasn’t emotionally available. I spent most of my teens and early twenties just trying to figure life out. I didn’t have much guidance—just this deep desire to leave home and go to college, which I did. I was the cliché lost college girl, trying to piece life together one experience at a time (or letting my friends do it for me).

It wasn’t easy finding my identity. I don’t think it is for anyone, really, but it felt especially hard without a strong example to look up to. Still, I’ve come to realize—everyone has a story. Some people grew up with abusive parents. Others had dads who drank too much or moms who never gave affection. We either repeat those patterns or we break them. That’s where our power lies.

Funny enough, I started this blog a few days ago, and on the way back from Miami this past weekend, the Comedian and I were listening to Joel Osteen—his sermon was about this exact idea. Serendipity at its finest.

At some point, you have to stop blaming your parents or your past and ask: Who do I want to be? You get to choose. Life is full of choices—what time we wake up, what we wear, how we treat people, and yes, even how we respond when life doesn’t go our way. I read a quote once that stuck with me:

“How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours.” – Wayne Dyer

Joel said something similar—that we are the ones who decide whether to break generational habits and whether or not we pass them on to our children. It’s not easy, but once you consistently choose positivity and stay mindful of your reactions, something incredible happens: life starts to feel lighter. People treat you differently. The energy around you shifts.

You don’t have to carry your mother’s anxiety or your father’s anger. You get to rewrite the script. That’s the beauty of free will. That’s the power of the mind. It’s yours—so choose wisely.