We all begin our lives with a limited lens. We grow up thinking our family is the standard. As children, we see our parents and families as the entire world. Our parents are either everything or, for some, not enough. That their way of raising us was/is either the golden rule or, to those some, the reason for their shortcomings.

Our parents are our first teachers, protectors, providers, and models of love—even when imperfectly so. For many of us, this default view goes unchallenged until we grow older and begin to step outside the bubble of our upbringing.

Stepping Outside The Bubble

Something happens as we mature and begin to engage with the wider world: We go to school. We make friends. We visit other homes, observe other dynamics, hear different stories. We start to notice that not every family is like ours: that other families do things differently—sometimes better, sometimes worse, but always differently.

Some families seem warmer. Some seem wiser. Some seem wealthier. You meet someone whose parents are emotionally expressive, while yours were reserved. Someone whose family supported their creative dreams, while yours insisted on stability and practicality. Or maybe your friend’s family seemed more affectionate, more educated, more intellectual, more united. Some just seem different—maybe more open, more cultured, more nurturing, or even more spiritual.

And suddenly, what once felt “normal” about your own parents or family starts to feel lacking. You begin to question, to re-evaluate, and without even meaning to, we begin to compare. That’s when the internal wrestle begins and if you’re not careful, you dismiss everything your family did for you.

And in that moment, a quiet danger creeps in: resentment.

We start to see cracks in the image of our parents/family—things we never noticed before. A lack of emotional depth. Missed opportunities. Strict rules. Or maybe too much freedom. And if we’re not careful, comparison can quickly turn into bitterness.
We begin to feel cheated. We might question, “Why didn’t my parents raise me like that?” or “How could they not know better?” or even, “Did they do anything right at all?”

But here’s a sobering truth that we must all come to accept:

There are no perfect parents or families—none. Not even the wealthy.

Money doesn’t exempt anyone from dysfunction, emotional gaps, or broken communication. Every family has its mess, its blind spots, and its limitations.

Not even the spiritual, not even the ones who look like they have it all together.

Even Biblical Families Were Flawed

Scripture doesn’t sugarcoat the reality of family brokenness. In fact, many of the Bible’s greatest figures came from homes full of dysfunction:

• Adam and Eve disobeyed God, and their son Cain murdered his brother Abel (Genesis 4).
•  Jacob deceived his father Isaac, was deceived by his uncle Laban, and played favorites among his sons, leading to jealousy and betrayal (Genesis 27–37).
•  David, a man after God’s own heart, failed terribly as a father. His household was marked by violence, sexual sin, rebellion, and grief (2 Samuel 13–18).

These were families chosen and used by God—but they were far from perfect. Their stories remind us that God does not require perfection in order to work through us. He requires humility, repentance, and a willingness to grow.

Honor and Accountability Can Coexist

God is not blind to the shortcomings of our parents, but He does command us to honor them:

“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.” 
— Exodus 20:12

Notice, this command doesn’t say “Honor them if they were perfect,” or “Honor them only when you agree with them.” It simply says to honor. That doesn’t mean we ignore trauma or silence ourselves when we’ve been hurt. It means we approach the flaws with grace, truth, and respect—not scorn or entitlement.

When we’re tempted to become dismissive, we must ask ourselves:

Is this growth—or is this ingratitude?

It’s one thing to recognize what was missing in your upbringing. It’s even healthy. It’s another to just want to rewrite your history as if your parents did nothing right or because they fell short in certain areas.

It’s also dangerous to swing the pendulum so far that you erase everything good that your parents did.

Gratitude doesn’t erase pain, and pain doesn’t erase effort.

Maybe they didn’t always understand you emotionally—but they worked tirelessly to put food on the table.
Maybe they couldn’t express love in words—but they showed up in action.
Maybe they made mistakes—but they also made sacrifices.

To reduce them to their flaws is unfair. And to exalt other families as flawless is equally dangerous, immature, and insensitive. Because every family—no matter how put together they seem—has its share of wounds, regrets, and secrets.

A Call to Maturity and Balance

The Apostle Paul encourages us to grow in spiritual maturity:

“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.” 
— 1 Corinthians 13:11

Part of putting away childish thinking is learning not to idealize or demonize people based on partial information. We stop painting our parents as either heroes or villains, and we begin to see them as humans—flawed, complex, doing the best they could with what they had. And if they didn’t know better, our growth becomes an opportunity to do better for the next generation, not a license to curse the last one.

Jesus Himself understood human imperfection. Yet He extended grace, called out sin, and forgave deeply. As His followers, we’re called to do the same. That includes our families.

Pause and Reflect

So what do you do when you realize your parent/family wasn’t as ideal as you once thought?

You pause. You reflect. You balance.
You learn to appreciate what they got right, while gently confronting what went wrong.
You give space for healing—without burning down the whole house in the process.

Growth doesn’t require rejection. Maturity doesn’t demand that we cancel our families in order to evolve. In fact, the truly mature learn to honor their roots—even while growing beyond them.

From Resentment to Redemption

Some of us may need to have hard conversations. Others may need to seek counseling or reconciliation. And some may never receive the apology we deserve. But even then, we are invited to heal, to forgive, and to build forward.

Don’t let comparison rob you of gratitude.
Don’t let bitterness blind you to blessings.

Your parents (or family) may not have been perfect — but neither is any other. Maybe your parents gave you enough to start your own journey. Enough strength, resilience, or faith to build a better legacy.

And when we learn to hold both the good and the not-so-good in tension, we give ourselves the gift of peace—and the power to build something even better for the next generation.

Don’t let comparison rob you of gratitude. Don’t let bitterness blind you to blessings.
Instead, ask God to give you eyes to see both the pain and the purpose in your story.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” — Romans 8:28

There is healing in balance. There is power in perspective. And there is peace in knowing that God can redeem even the most imperfect family stories for His glory.

A Prayer for Those Struggling With Their Parent/Family Story

Heavenly Father,
I bring before You every heart reading this that is heavy with disappointment, confusion, or pain related to their parents/family. You see what others cannot see—the silent wounds, the unspoken questions, the deep desire to be known, loved, and understood by those closest to us.

Lord, for those who feel torn between honoring their parents and grieving what was missing, grant them the wisdom to hold both truth and grace. Help them not to erase the good in their past because of the painful, nor to pretend the painful never existed because of the good. Teach them to walk in holy balance.

Heal the hidden places where unmet needs have taken root. Soften hearts that have grown cold with resentment. And for those who have never had a safe space to name their family pain, may this be the beginning of their healing.

Lord, remove the spirit of comparison. Remind us that no family is perfect—and that even in imperfection, You are still at work. Help each person to see how You have carried them, shaped them, and sustained them—sometimes in spite of, and sometimes through, their family.

Give strength to forgive. Give peace to release. And give courage to rebuild legacies that honor You.

Thank You for being the perfect Father. Where earthly love falls short, Your love is complete.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Reader Reflection Prompt:

Take a quiet moment to reflect and journal:

• What are three things your parents or caregivers did right that you’re grateful for today?
•  What is one area where you felt emotionally, spiritually, or mentally unsupported—and how have you grown in spite of or because of that?
• Have you compared your parents/family to others in ways that led to resentment? What truth can you embrace today to release that weight?

“Lord, help me to honor my roots while healing my wounds.”