As many of you know, I founded and direct the Dementia Simulation House at the University of Northern Iowa. Our focus is community education and outreach.

We work with everyone—from family caregivers, to the general public, to healthcare professionals.

And we never really know who will walk through our doors on any given day.

One day, a family caregiver came to do the simulation. Her mom had dementia, and she wanted to better understand what her mom might be experiencing.

We put the gear on her. She went through the simulation.

Afterward, we had a debriefing section. We ask participants to share one word that describes the experience.

Her word was shame.

We asked her to tell us more.

She said she felt ashamed because she had been impatient with her mother. She had no idea how difficult some everyday household tasks might be for her mom. Recently, she had asked her mom to help clean the house before company came. When her mom struggled, she showed frustration instead of compassion.

As she talked, she started labeling herself as a bad caregiver and a bad daughter.

And I felt awful that this experience had created such negative feelings for her.

But you only know what you know. You don’t know what you don’t know.

And then, sometimes, a light comes on–like she experienced with the simulation. You learn more. You see more clearly. That doesn’t mean you failed before. It means you didn’t have the information yet.

As a caregiver, you don’t have time to sit in shame.

I don’t know how to magically take that feeling away.

But I do know this: people are almost always doing the best they can with the information, insight, and resources they have at the time. And when they get more information, it’s meant to empower them moving forward rather than guilt them about the past.

In many ways, we are failing caregivers.

We tell them to “be patient.” I give a presentation where those words are literally on the screen. But maybe preaching patience isn’t always where it’s at. Maybe we also need to acknowledge that caregivers are human beings. They will not always be patient.

As a caregiver, you will not always be patient. There, I said it.

Losing your patience does not make you a bad caregiver. It does not mean you don’t love the person you’re caring for. It does not mean you aren’t trying hard enough.

Caregiving is not about perfection.

It’s about showing up again and again with more information, more support, and giving yourself some grace.