You ever do something you KNOW is wrong? Like deep down in your gut it just feels…bad. But you do it anyway. Because you have to. Or you think you have to. I have this little one, he's just a baby, and sometimes when he cries — and babies just cry, right? It’s what they do — sometimes I snap at him. Just a quick, sharp, "HEY!" and he gets startled and stops. And my heart just sinks, like a stone in a well, because I see that little flicker of fear in his eyes. He’s so tiny. And I know it’s not right. It’s not how I want to raise him. It’s just… my mother-in-law. She’s always there, hovering. Watching. She raised her kids, my husband included, with this really strict hand. You don't question, you don't talk back, you just obey. And she looks at me, with those eyes that always seem to be judging, and she’ll say things like, "He needs to learn. He can't run wild." Or, "A little discipline never hurt anyone." And I hear her words in my head, even when she’s not there. It’s like she’s a drill sergeant in my brain, telling me what to do. I grew up with that kinda rigidness too, my dad was Army. So I know what it feels like to just… fall in line. To not argue. To just do what you’re told even when it feels like it’s breaking something inside you. And I hate that I’m doing it to my own kid. I hate that I’m so SCARED of what she’ll think, that I’m hurting him. It’s like I’m wearing a uniform I don't want to wear. And sometimes I look at his little face, when he’s sleeping, all peaceful and trusting, and I just feel this wave of — not just guilt, but shame. Like, deep, burning shame. You know when you feel like a fraud? Like you’re playing a part and everyone can see through it but they’re too polite to say anything? That’s me. I try to be good. I try to be gentle. But then she comes over, or I just imagine her coming over, and I tighten up. And he feels it. I know he does. And I don’t know how to stop. It’s like I’m stuck in this loop, just doing what I think I HAVE to do, even though every fiber of my being is screaming that it’s wrong. And I feel like a terrible person for it. A really, REALLY terrible person.