Parenting

Love, Trust, and Letting Go

I used to measure my kids’ growth, and really the passage of time in general, in summers.

When my son and daughter were very young, we started spending a lot of time on the Oregon coast in the summer. My parental vigilance in those early years was consumed by trying to stop my crawling daughter from ingesting mouthfuls of sand and my son from accidentally spraying her in the face with more as he dug holes and built castles. The next summer, when my daughter could walk, I spent a lot of time holding both of their hands at the water’s edge as they shrieked when the icy water rushed over their bare feet. The next summer, I was holding one tiny hand while my son was more independent, splashing in the surf but always in eyesight. The summer after that, they were digging together, making a plan for the tide to fill the trough they’d built with ocean water. The next, they were bravely picking up hermit crabs in tide pools and carefully putting them back. And then, before I knew it, one summer they didn’t need to hold my hands at all.

I stayed present. I reminded them of the rules: don’t turn your back on the ocean when you’re standing in the waves, don’t throw sand, be kind, have fun.

The same is true in life. Be aware. Be respectful. Be kind. Have fun.

Change is the only constant in life; growth is optional. And parenting, at its best, is about giving our kids the foundation and the freedom to choose growth for themselves.

There have been times when my kids have needed me to hold their hands again, to be more present, to listen, to give advice, to show up. But just like learning to trust them with the power of Pacific Ocean waves, parenting is mostly a lesson in knowing when to hold on and when to let go. When my kids were young, we also watched Finding Nemo more times than I can count. Marlin, the anxious clownfish dad, learns the hard way that you cannot protect the ones you love from the ocean, paradoxically his home. And trying to do so only keeps them from discovering what they are capable of. And there are so many moments to let go, to trust them, and to trust yourself. It is so hard, such a mix of grief and pride, to feel them pull away, to watch them step into new stages, taking risks, hopefully carrying inside them what you have modeled and taught. There will be mistakes, and there will be accidents. The saying is true: shit happens. And shit is great fertilizer. That is the learning ground for confidence, and I believe the deepest confidence is built on a foundation of trust and presence. I trust that you can do this. And I am here if you need me.

Letting go shows up in the smaller moments too. Years ago, I was asked to create a workshop on getting kids to eat healthy for a large community center. Here is the gist: provide good food, model healthy eating, teach them about where food comes from, invite them into the kitchen, ask them what fruits and vegetables they want to pick out at the store. And then, when it comes to what they actually put in their mouths at mealtimes, let go. When they try something new, ask them what they thought of it, and then listen. If they seem stuck on a few favorites, try saying, the cool thing is, just like you are growing and changing all the time, so are your taste buds. Something you don’t like today, you might love next year. Avoid the sweeping declarations, especially within earshot: my kid won’t eat this, my kid only eats that. Those statements are the enemies of growth. Create the foundation: the good food, the good example, the open invitation, and release the rest. Looking back, did I do this perfectly? Most definitely not, but I know that in the moments when I released control, I was able to enjoy food with my kids and stop worrying so much.

My dad has always had a gift for strong opinions, and one of his favorites on the subject of parenting is that your kids will grow up despite you. And honestly, he’s right. They are going to grow up and become who they are. The most important thing I have tried to do is love my kids for exactly who they are, and give them room to become it. Kacey Musgraves has a song that I love called Silver Linings. I love her lyrics and the idea that if you want to find the silver lining, you have to be willing to stand in the rain. That’s parenting. You stand in the rain with them when you need to, and you trust them to stand in it alone when they’re ready.

That is the whole job, really. Lay the foundation. Set the rules. Model what matters. And then step back and watch them run into the waves, trusting that what you gave them is enough to carry them through. Watching them get tumbled by the waves and come up laughing, find their footing again after life knocks them down, and grow into the people they are becoming, that is what fills my heart the most.

Most importantly, have fun!

I wrote a whole chapter on growth mindset in Radical Wellness: Pathways to a Healthy Body, Mind, and Planet, because I believe it is one of the most essential ingredients of mental wellness and a full life: the willingness to stay open, take risks, get tumbled by the waves, and keep going anyway, and especially believing in your ability to keep going.

Here is a journal prompt for you! Where in your life are you holding on when it might be time to let go? What would it look like to lay the foundation, trust the process, and step back, and what is the fear that is making that hard to do?