Overcorrection in Generational Cycle Breaking

(Originally posted March 7th 2025)

You know I like to focus on the things no one likes to discuss. Shine my little light into the dark shadow whenever I can in an effort to help us grow together.

We talk a LOT about breaking generational cycles, especially how important it is to lay down our anger, heal from what was done to us, and build beautiful, peaceful lives for ourselves.

When we’ve fought our way out of dysfunction, this becomes the goal. And if we decide to step into the role of parent? That goal sharpens into a promise. I WILL do better.

So we do the work, every day. We keep our tempers in check, making sure we never raise a hand or speak a cruel word against them. We become hyper-vigilant, protecting them from harm in ways no one ever protected us. We anticipate every need, every desire, before they even have to ask, making sure they never feel the kind of neglect or loneliness we once did.

And all of this sounds like exactly what cycle-breaking should be, right?

But what happens when the pendulum swings too far in the other direction? When, in our effort to not be like 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, we end up creating an entirely new cycle. One where love looks like never letting them struggle? Because even water can become toxic when there’s too much of it.

When they’re babies, and you can’t stand to see them struggle during tummy time, so you pick them up before they get frustrated and whimper.... without realizing they need that struggle to build strength for crawling and finding the first moments of independence and autonomy.

When they’re toddlers, and you buckle their high chair, brush their hair, and pick out every outfit because it’s easier and faster that way.... without realizing those tiny acts of independence are their first steps toward self-reliance and confidence in their choices.

When they’re in elementary school, and they’re struggling with a science project, so you stay up past midnight, hot gluing together the most impressive presentation possible.... without realizing their teacher needed to see them struggle so they could get the extra support they needed in class.

When they’re in high school, and you step in to handle their conflicts, call their teachers about every grade, and micromanage their responsibilities.... without realizing they’ve never learned to negotiate and navigate life on their own.

It happens so quietly, so subtly, that we don’t always see it for what it is. It just feels like parenting. It feels like making sure they have it easier than we did. Like making sure they don’t suffer.

But here’s the hard truth: Children learn by watching themselves master their environment. If we don’t let them try, if we don’t let them struggle, if we dont let them 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙, they never build the confidence and resilience they need to trust themselves.

And then, before we know it, we’ve raised young adults who

Feel completely lost when faced with a problem because they’ve never been allowed to solve one on their own.

Break down over small failures because they were never given the space to fail safely in childhood.

Second-guess themselves constantly because they’ve never been trusted to navigate their own challenges.

Remain dependent on us to make decisions for them, long after they should be stepping into their independence.

And this is how the cycle shifts into a new one. We think we’re protecting them. But really, we’re just making sure they never get the practice they need to become fully capable, self-sufficient people. We may have forgotten the goal is to raise healthy, happy, independent adults and instead gotten clouded by OUR goal of being better than our parents.

The root of this overcompensation and parenting through fear is anxiety. That deep, unshakable fear of failing at the most important job we’ve ever had mixed with the lingering traumas in our own shadow.

We’re scared they’ll feel unloved or that we're bad parents if we don’t give them constant attention. We’re scared they’ll suffer or hate us if we let them struggle. We’re scared they’ll resent us if we say no.

And, if we’re really being honest... deep down, we’re scared that if we don’t prove every single day that we are different from our parents that we'll become them.

But overcompensating isn’t healing. It’s just a new form of control, born from love and good intentions.

So how DO we find balance here? Breaking the cycle doesn’t mean doing the opposite of what was done to us. It means finding the middle ground. The space between neglect and overindulgence, between control and freedom, between fear and trust. We can't run from one extreme to another and hope it evens itself out.

Let them struggle. It’s hard to watch, but it’s necessary. Support them, encourage them but don’t swoop in and fix everything.

Recognize the difference between protection and control. Being a good parent doesn’t mean eliminating every hardship, it means giving them the tools to handle hardship when it comes.

Let them fail. The little failures in childhood like bad grades, forgotten homework, conflicts with friends are practice rounds for the real world. If they never experience those smaller failures, they won’t be able to handle bigger ones.

Check your own fears. If you feel yourself gripping too tightly, ask yourself: Is this really about them? Or is this about my fear of not being good enough?

So let’s love them. Let’s protect them. Let’s teach them.

But let’s also trust them. Trust ourselves to handle the natural pushback from them.

Let’s believe in their ability to figure things out. Let’s give them space to fall and get back up again.

Because that’s how we break the cycle.

There 𝙄𝑺 an astrological signature I see often with this kind of fear-based parenting, so let's get into it!

Hades Moon mothers (those with a Moon-Pluto conjunction, square, or opposition) carry deep maternal wounds, often struggling to find the balance between protection and control. The need to never repeat the past can lead to a subconscious fear of letting their children experience any form of hardship. But Pluto teaches through intensity. The more we try to avoid its lessons, the deeper it carves them into us.

Strongly Martian mothers (Mars prominently placed in the chart, Moon-Mars contacts, Aries Moon, Scorpio/Aries dominant) feel their child’s struggles viscerally. The instinct to step in, fight battles, and clear the path is overwhelming. But Mars teaches through action. If we don’t let children develop their own agency, they grow up without the fire needed to face life’s challenges.

Saturnian fathers (especially those with a mix of Venusian influence—Libra, Taurus, or strong 7th-house placements) often go back and forth between strict expectations and overindulgence. Saturn says, “Earn it.” Venus says, “Let me give it to you.” This contradiction can create a dynamic where fathers either push too hard or cushion too much and sometimes both.

4th house malefics (Saturn, Mars, or Pluto in the 4th house) often indicate a childhood where security was conditional, discipline was strict, or parental warmth was inconsistent. These parents tend to overcorrect, smothering their children in love, resources, and protection to avoid the coldness they once endured. But in doing so, they may deny their child the chance to develop resilience.