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I grew up in a loving family with lots of opportunities and yet I don’t think I was flying as a child. I was definitely loved, I wasn’t bullied and I had lots of friends, family and stability. Surely the conditions were there? So what stopped me from flying? I believe it was a few tiny moments, moments that I must have logged as the truth and therefore started to live by.
But what does this mean in practice? Some of us go out of our way to provide for our children in order to make their world more comfortable than perhaps ours was.
We decide that protecting our children is our number one priority and we do this in the only way we know how, on our terms.
There is nothing wrong with any of the above – it’s based on our judgments and intuition as a mum, dad or guardian – I am just wondering if our internal guidance on how best to parent is based on assumptions that are no longer true? What would it be like if we decided to question these a little with the aim of really helping our children fly?
I am currently reading Michelle OBama’s Autobiography (Becoming) and one sentence struck me, she referred to her parents as “raising adults” and it made me question… “is that what I’m doing?” Or am I bringing up my children in the invisible hope that they will always need me?
There is no rule book that tells you what your parenting should look like, just lots of rule books on what others think.
Remember those exciting times you had as a child when you were allowed new freedoms and could try out the world for size? We want our children to fly like that, but all the time knowing that we will always be there to catch them should they need us. If you knew that your child was capable of flying how would you help them?