The Repair is more Important than the Rupture

Conflict is inevitable—but repair is transformative. Grounded in relational neuroscience, this post explores how moments of disconnection can become powerful opportunities for growth, trust, and emotional literacy. It offers practical tools for navigating rupture with grace and intention. 

We’ve all been there. 

You’re exhausted. A child knocks over the craft supplies for the third time, or refuses to put on their shoes again, and something inside you just...snaps.

You yell. You use “the voice.” You blame. You scold. You completely miss that this is a can’t moment, not a won’t moment. And then?

The guilt crashes in like a wave. I’m supposed to be the calm one. I know better than this. I've damaged our connection. What kind of educator/parent am I? Here’s what you need to hear: Stop right there. 

Welcome to the No-Blame Zone 

First, take a breath. You’re human. Your sensory cup overflows. Your emotional resources run dry. Your nervous system gets dysregulated. And in those moments, you simply cannot be your best self—no matter how many parenting books you’ve read or how much training you’ve completed. 

But here’s the surprising part: This might actually be exactly what your children need. 

The Science of “Getting It Wrong” 

Dr. Edward Tronick, a leading researcher in developmental psychology, has spent decades studying parent-child interactions. His findings are revolutionary—and deeply reassuring. 

Caregivers and children are “mismatched” 70% of the time. 

Read that again. Seventy percent. 

That means even the most attuned, present, connected parents and educators get it wrong more often than they get it right. We misread cues. We’re preoccupied. We’re disconnected. We react instead of respond. 

And yet, children often turn out okay. Better than okay, actually.

Why Rupture Matters as Much as Connection 

Here’s the key: It’s not the mismatch that matters most—it’s what happens next. 

When we snap and then repair, we’re teaching children something profound: 

• Stress is temporary. Safety will return. 

• Relationships can withstand conflict. People can mess up and still love you. 

• Adults aren’t perfect. And that’s okay—we can do better next time. 

• Big feelings pass. The storm eventually clears. 

Think about peek-a-boo. When you hide your face, the baby experiences a moment of stress—Where did you go?  But then you reappear, and there’s that explosion of giggles and relief. You’ve just taught their developing brain a critical lesson: Absence doesn't mean abandonment. Discomfort doesn’t mean danger. You can trust that I’ll come back. 

Every rupture-and-repair cycle is like an advanced version of peek-a-boo for the nervous system. 

Research shows children at high-risk of childhood maltreatment may experience the same amount of ruptures as low-risk children, but they experience far fewer repairs after the rupture.

What Repair Actually Looks Like 

The magic isn’t in being perfect. It’s in coming back. You’re not just apologizing—you’re teaching emotional literacy, modelling accountability, and demonstrating that mistakes don’t define us. 

Here’s how: 

• Name what happened: “I yelled at you when you knocked over the blocks.” 

• Own your part: “That wasn’t okay. My body felt really overwhelmed and I didn’t take a breath before reacting.” 

• Share the feelings: “I was feeling frustrated and tired, and those feelings got really big.” 

• Model growth mindset: “I’m still learning how to handle my big feelings. Next time, I'm going to try to take a breath and use a calmer voice.” 

• Reconnect: Offer a hug, get down on their level, re-establish eye contact. 

  
  

Reframing the Won’t vs. Can’t 

Often, our ruptures happen because we’ve misread a child’s capacity. We think they won’t  cooperate when really they can’t yet—they can’t regulate their disappointment, they can’t hold two ideas in their mind at once, they can’t articulate what they need. 

When we repair, we get a second chance to see the moment through a developmental lens: 

“I see now that putting away the craft supplies felt really hard for you. Your body wanted to keep colouring. Let me help you with this.” 

Suddenly, it’s not defiance—it’s development. And that reframe changes everything. 

Permission to Be Human 

So, the next time you lose your patience, miss the mark, or react in a way that makes you cringe, remember: you're in the 70% zone. 

You’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re human. And when you come back, reconnect, and repair? You’re teaching resilience, trust, and the most important lesson of all: love doesn’t require perfection. 

Your children don’t need you to get it right all the time. They just need you to come back when you get it wrong. 

And that? That you can do.  

Selected References 

• Morton, M. (2016). We can work it out: The importance of rupture and repair processes in infancy and adult life for flourishing. Health Care Analysis, 24, 119–132. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10728-016-0319-1  

• Müller, M., Zietlow, A. L., Tronick, E., & Reck, C. (2015). What dyadic reparation is meant to do: An association with infant cortisol reactivity. Psychopathology, 48(6), 386-399. https://doi.org/10.1159/000439225  

• Skowron, E. A., Kozlowski, J. M., & Pincus, A. L. (2010). Differentiation, self–other representations, and rupture–repair processes: Predicting child maltreatment risk. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 57(3), 304–316. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0020030