I Had To Push Her Through A Brick Wall
When your child builds brick walls that hold them back from meeting their full potential, it’s your responsibility as their parent to break them down.
Welcome back to Good Life, a newsletter about navigating our modern culture and staying sane in the process. This week, we discuss how sometimes the kindest thing you can do for your children is to force them to do something they do not want to do.
I Had To Push Her Through A Brick Wall
When your child builds brick walls that hold them back from meeting their full potential, it’s your responsibility as their parent to break them down.
For the past year, my second-oldest daughter has been dreaming of the chance to play up a grade for basketball. There is something about this sport that makes it hard to fill the girls’ teams at our school. The chance for her to play for the Junior High team was pretty high, but not automatic.
My high schooler starting Varsity practice last week reminded me to reach out to the Junior High coach and ask if they’d be opening sign-ups for 6th-grade girls. Luckily, the decision was made to include the younger girls, and my daughter was one of the first to sign her name on the sheet. She came home so excited. I mean, she was beaming from ear to ear. She told everyone I was on the phone with that day, boasting like she had just won the NBA Finals.
However, things took a turn for the worse the next day when she threw up after an intense conditioning session at the first practice. It was her nerves that overwhelmed her more than the running, and this happening in front of the older girls and her classmates made matters worse. She got in the car completely defeated. Her coach came over to our car to explain what had happened and encourage her to come back, as her skills are good, and the conditioning will get easier.
I thought this would be the end of the conversation. Our oldest had moments like this with first practice jitters, and only ever needed a little encouragement to get back out there. I know all kids are different and process things differently, but I drove away from the school truly not thinking for a second that she was losing her resolve to return.
That night, I watched her go inward. Instead of the bubbly, happy girl who had graced our home the night before, I saw a sullen and worried wreck. She has a bit of an issue with one of the girls on our team that’s been going on for over a year. I found out that this girl had been teasing her about her episode, repeatedly asking my daughter if she still planned on returning to basketball after what had happened.
I was watching in real time how these words were making her doubt herself. She’s athletic, and every team she has ever played for has considered her a difference-maker. Her soccer coach spent five minutes at her last game attempting to talk me into ignoring scouting calls from our local club programs. So why is she allowing one girl to make her feel anxious about going back?
I give her my tried and true, “YOU ARE A ROOKE GIRL AND THAT MEANS SOMETHING” speech. “People will remember your name,” I tell her, filling her with as much confidence as I can. At the end, I ask her to call me from the front office if this girl tries to pull anything before practice. She is super excited about this and packs her bag with her basketball practice clothes for the next day.
Again, I think this is the end. She’ll go to practice, and we will go on with our lives. Until my phone rings about 30 minutes before the girls are set to get out of school, and she leaves for practice.
“Hey doodle, what’s going on?” I asked.
“Momma, my stomach hurts, and my leg hurts, and I think I’ve hurt my thumb,” she says.
I had a split second to decide how to handle this. She is a sensitive soul, despite her outward appearance of independence and strength. I let the silence linger for a second. Then I asked her to tell me exactly what she was asking me to do for her. I wanted her to voice it out loud. I knew I couldn’t give her the lifeline she wanted because it would end up hurting her in the long run.
“Momma, I don’t want to go to practice today,” she finally responded.
There was another pause as I let the weight of her words marinate in her mind. She started crying. Not loudly, just a little whimper. But it was enough to make my heart ache. I wanted to gobble her up in my arms and tell her that she didn’t have to go back to practice. But again, I knew if I did that, she would be worse for it.
“You have to go,” I told her. “They are going to think you are weak. They will never believe that your stomach hurts. I can’t let you quit.”
She pleaded one more time but eventually gave in to the reality that she would have to go to practice. I told her I loved her, and she said it back, then hung up the phone.
For the next three hours, I sat in agony, worried about her. Did she make it through, or was she sick again? Did that little girl say something snotty? How is she going to be when I pick her up?
I waited in the school parking lot for her to arrive. When she finally showed up, I had to look away because I was so scared to see her face. But when I turned back and saw her smiling from ear to ear like she had when she signed up, my heart could have exploded.
Our children are capable of doing so much more than society gives them credit for. We tell them to start and stop anything in their life, no matter the commitment they made, if they wake up not wanting to do it anymore. It’s not only okay, but the right thing to do, to show them their full potential and help them follow through on their promises.
She got in the car, giddy and happy. Practice was successful. She made it through without an incident, and she was so proud of herself. As we were driving home, I wanted to ensure she understood why I had told her she had to go to practice. I wasn’t trying to be a mean mom. Instead, it was the exact opposite. I wanted her to learn a valuable lesson while she was still in the safety of her mother’s care: She can do hard things.
WHAT I SAW THIS WEEK:
SYDNEY SWEENEY’S HUGE … BRAIN. In Geoff Ingersoll’s recent newsletter, he broke down Sweeney’s recent (now-viral) interview with GQ magazine, where she perfectly pushes back against Katherine Stoeffel’s obvious attempt to denounce her American Eagle ad. It was great. Read more here.
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