Generations: Bridging the Gap with Empathy
By Tara Warner, MS, LPC-S
I regularly sit with families, parents, and individuals who feel caught in the tension between generations. Someone will eventually say it—often with a sigh or a shake of the head: “Their generation is just so different.” And they’re not wrong. But different doesn’t have to mean divided.
What I see most often isn’t a lack of love or effort—it’s misunderstanding. Conversations that once felt manageable now feel charged. Parenting choices are scrutinized. Expectations clash. Many people come to counseling wondering, Why does this feel so hard—and why does it feel so personal?
This isn’t a battle of right versus wrong. It’s a meeting point of very different stories, values, and definitions of success. When we slow down and look beneath the surface, we often find grief, hope, exhaustion, and deep care—on every side.
Different Values, Different Measures of Success
Every generation is shaped by the world it grew up in.
Older generations were often raised with a strong emphasis on obedience, respect for authority, and resilience through hardship. Success was measured by responsibility, productivity, and doing what needed to be done—often without complaint.
Younger generations tend to place a higher value on emotional safety, mental health, and authenticity. Success looks like being emotionally attuned, heard, and supported.
These differences can easily create friction—but they aren’t about one generation caring more than another. They’re about what caring was taught to look like. Some learned connection through responsibility and shared effort; others through collaboration and conversation. Many of us now find ourselves trying to translate between those languages.
Grief Lives Alongside Intentional Parenting
Many parents today are doing something incredibly complex: grieving what they didn’t receive while trying to give something different to their children.
I see parents holding both sadness and intention at the same time—mourning the emotional support, gentleness, or voice they lacked, while consciously choosing new patterns. This grief doesn’t mean they reject their upbringing; it means they’re aware of it.
For many families, this is where misunderstanding enters. Choosing to name emotions or respond with empathy can be misread as being permissive or indulgent. But emotional validation is not the absence of limits—it’s the presence of relationship. Parents can say, “I understand how you feel,” while still holding clear boundaries.
Awareness is not an accusation. It’s an invitation to grow.
The Quiet Guilt of Doing Things Differently
Parents often carry guilt when their choices challenge family norms or expectations. Even when they believe in their decisions, it can feel painful to disappoint parents or elders who did the best they knew how to do.
That guilt often shows up quietly: second-guessing, defensiveness, emotional fatigue, or the pressure to constantly explain oneself.
It’s important to name this truth: choosing differently doesn’t mean assigning blame or fault to the past. It means giving ourselves permission to look back with curiosity, to acknowledge both love and limitation, and to let that awareness guide how we respond to the present.
Parenting While Reparenting
Many adults today are not only raising children—they’re also reparenting themselves.
They’re learning emotional skills, boundaries, and self-compassion later in life while simultaneously teaching them to the next generation. They’re doing this work while juggling jobs, caregiving, and constant cultural change.
That work is deeply meaningful—and deeply exhausting. Many adults are learning to slow down, name emotions, and lead with connection in ways they themselves were never taught.
If this is you, you’re not failing. You’re doing layered, courageous work.
Moving Forward Together
Generational tension often begins to soften when curiosity replaces certainty.
When we pause to ask ourselves, What shaped me? What did I need then? What am I trying to protect or provide now? we create room for empathy instead of defensiveness.
I believe healing doesn’t happen by choosing sides. It happens by building bridges—between generations, within families, and inside ourselves.
It can be helpful to gently reflect on where these tensions show up for you. When conflict arises or a strong emotional reaction takes hold, what feels familiar about it? What age do you notice yourself returning to in those moments? And what might that part of you be asking for now?
If these questions stir something in you, counseling can be a place to slow down, take inventory, and explore those patterns with care—without dismissing the past or fearing the future.
You’re not alone in this work.
And it matters more than you know.