Brave
Watching your child be brave – it’s gut wrenching, heartbreaking, wondrous and spectacular all at the same time.
My boys swim.
Will has been swimming for 6 years and Tate has been swimming for
3. They adore it and it’s so good for them,
physically, but also emotionally. It’s
one of the only sports in their young lives where their effort is rewarded
based on merit – and not participation. For
one son, that means cheers. For another,
it often means tears. But both are
determined and committed and will give 100% to this endeavor, despite the
sometimes disappointing outcome.
Little Meems has not enjoyed this summertime
ritual like her brothers. After swimming
one season and finishing mostly last in most of her races, she decided it wasn’t
for her and hasn’t looked back. Scratch
that, she’s looked back…but only momentarily.
For her, the competition evokes fear, a fact I learned after a tearful
admission to her dad and me after some pressing.
No problem.
There’s no need to let summertime fun stress you out.
But I worry about her, because you see, she’s an
awful lot like me as a kid – a kid who too often let fear prevent her from
trying something new. I don’t want her
to have those regrets – some chances only come along once in a lifetime. Swim team comes around every summer, but she’s
getting to the age where it’s harder and harder to compete. In other words, it’s almost too late.
We didn’t press the issue. As I registered the boys, I asked her once
again. “Are you sure?” I encouraged her to think about it, and pointed
out that many of her friends would be on her team and how much fun that would
be. I also explained that I don’t care
how she does, it’s just about having fun, but it’s not about stress, so the
final decision was hers. To my surprise,
she said she’d think about it.
A couple days later, she said she would do it.
“Mom, I think I’ve decided to do swim team after
all.”
“Are you sure honey? You know you don’t have to.”
“Yes. As
long as I don’t have to do Butterfly.” (Little Meems always has stipulations)
“I think we can arrange that. What made you change your mind?”
“Well, I’m about to turn 11 and I just think I
need to be brave about this.”
“Ok. I
think it will be a lot of fun. A great
way to spend time with your friends all summer.”
“That too.
I think I can do this. I don’t
feel afraid right now. I might be a little
nervous at the meets, but I don’t feel that now. I really want to do this.” Nodding her head, convincing herself as much
as me.
This is tricky mom/tween territory. The trick is to be enthusiastic and
encouraging, yet play it cool so as not to freak them out.
We signed her up, she’s started practices, and
she’s loving it.
It’s gut wrenching and heartbreaking and
wondrous and spectacular. I’m so proud
of her. Of course, the true test will
come in the shape of her first swim meet.
Hopefully, her confidence and the support of her friends will make it
all worthwhile, despite the outcome. The
fear of losing or being embarrassed is a big one.
But not nearly as big as the fear of trying.
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