Parent Life

Today I find myself reflecting on what it means to be Bella’s parent.

We were sitting side by side on the couch when I could feel the weight she was carrying. She was being tough on herself. Her expectations were high, and she was frustrated because things had not gone the way she wanted. She felt like she had drifted a little off track, and that awareness brought irritation and disappointment with herself.

As I listened, I was reminded of something she once said to me.

During a season when I was the one drifting, when I was being hard on myself and questioning my direction, Bella looked at me and said, “Dad, give yourself some grace. It’s going to be okay. Just pick it back up and do the best you can.”

Those words came back to me in that moment.

I also thought about all the times I have stood behind her while she bowled. I am getting better, but I still have a long way to go. What she really wants from me is not instruction. She wants my presence. She wants to know I am there. Sometimes that means not saying anything at all.

This season has me working through twelve tips designed to help parents navigate the tension that often shows up when we try to help our children perform. That performance might be in sports, academics, art, music, or any area where effort and identity collide.

What I am learning is that sometimes we talk too much. Sometimes we advise when what is needed most is presence. Sometimes we try to save our children from discomfort instead of allowing them the space to process it themselves.

Clarity often comes in silence, not correction.

Today Bella was experiencing heartache, and all I said was simple. Give yourself some grace.

Then I listened.

She talked. She opened up. She spilled out her emotions. She shared how she felt she had let herself down. Normally I would step in, try to fix it, try to add something helpful. Today I practiced presence instead. I let her lead. I asked questions. I stayed curious.

Something shifted.

There was peace in the room. There was safety. There was comfort. She felt my love without feeling pressure. She had the freedom to express herself and the power to think through her next steps on her own.

It was honestly fun to watch her grow emotionally. To see her come up with ideas. To hear her process and decide what the next best step might be.

And it stretched me too.

Because as much time as I have spent coaching athletes and working with parents, I am still learning this lesson myself. The goal as a parent is to reduce tension, yet sometimes I am the one adding to it. Instead of listening, I communicate. Instead of asking, I tell.

I am learning that questions open doors that statements close.

There have been seasons when I was afraid to say anything at all because no matter what I said, it felt wrong. Silence turned into frustration. Frustration turned inward. That is a lonely place to be as a parent who loves deeply and only wants to help.

I do not want anyone walking this path alone.

If you are a parent of a child who performs in any area and you feel like the more you help, the more you hurt, reach out. This season can feel isolating, confusing, and heavy. I love Bella with everything I have, and I had to learn that sometimes my help was creating a wedge instead of a bridge.

There are ways to communicate verbally and non verbally that reduce tension instead of increasing it. There are ways to support without controlling. There are ways to be present without overpowering.

We are all learning. We are all growing.

And when we walk this journey together, our children get the space they need to do what they love in a way that feels supported, safe, and free.

If this resonates with you, I would love to connect. We are in this together.