“If you are lucky enough to find a way a way of life you love, you have to find the courage to live it.” –John Irving
My six-year-old joined our local YMCA swim team last June. It feels strange to even type that sentence knowing her “history” with water. This is the child who let out agonizing cries while her hair was being washed until age four. The crying only stopped because she witnessed her baby cousin get soaped and rinsed with a huge smile on his face. So considering the fact that water was this child’s worst enemy for four years, being a part of the swim team is really quite amazing. Plus, there’s just something about seeing that goggle-clad child joyfully swimming from one side of the pool to the other that just makes me happy.
Within a few weeks of practice, my daughter was demonstrating proficiency in all the strokes and kicks. However, when it came to diving off the block, things didn’t go so well. (Cue the quivering lip and tearful protests of hair-washing gone bad.)
My daughter’s patient coaches stayed after practice for weeks coaxing, encouraging, and trying everything short of bribery to get her to dive off the block. Finally, one momentous day, she did it—but it was a fake-out. Although she looked fully prepared to enter the water in appropriate dive form, her entry turned into a feet-first jump as soon as she left the block.
While this imperfect dive might seem acceptable to the average observer, official swimming guidelines deem this practice unsafe. My child was informed at the beginning of fall swim season that she is not “dive certified,” and therefore was not permitted to dive off the blocks. This restriction made her sad. Yet, when I offered to work with her on a headfirst dive, her eyes filled with tears. My child’s exact words were: “Mama, it is too scary to look down into the water and think of my head going before my feet.”
A few years ago (otherwise known as my Drill Sergeant Pre-Hands Free days), I would have said something like, “Well, if you are on the swim team, then you need to learn to dive properly.” (After all, what would people think?) And I would have had my child out there practicing—despite fear and tears—until she did it correctly.
It hurts to admit that, but it’s true. I used to care way too much about how things “looked,” about how things appeared to outsiders, and so I held myself (and my children) to unattainable standards of perfection—which I tragically discovered is one sure way to sabotage any chance at real happiness.
Thank God, things are different now. My daughter only had to tell me once that she was not ready to dive headfirst. After that, I let it go. I let it be. I figured that in time she would be dive certified. And if she is content to begin her competitions by jumping off the side, then I should be, too.
Fast-forward five months to our most recent swim meet …
It was time for my daughter’s 25-yard freestyle event. She stepped up toward the blocks with the other competitors. As the other girls climbed onto the blocks, she stepped down onto the edge of the pool where she is accustomed to doing her fake-out dive into the water. She extended her arms so they covered her ears and was in dive position waiting for the start-buzzer.
Suddenly, the official held up his hand and told the girls to relax.
He said something to my daughter’s coach. My husband and I nudged each other. We knew this delay had to do with our child—the freckle-faced girl with unruly curls peeking out beneath her swim cap. I could see the official shaking his head. He was telling my child she was not permitted to dive off the side. Through hand gestures, I could see he was giving her two choices: Dive off the block headfirst or start from the water.
After approximately ten seconds of careful consideration, I watched as my daughter made her choice.
And when she did, I had an unexpected emotional reaction. Warm, silent tears began dripping down my face.
My daughter did not climb on the starting block and make the dive of her life. Instead, she gently slid herself into the water.
After giving one last look up at her competitors standing high upon their respective platforms, she gripped the side of the pool. With one hand extended she was ready for take off, looking forward in determination.
And when the buzzer sounded, the other girls dove in and my daughter pushed off the wall with all her might. As she propelled herself to the other side, I could not stop the tears, nor did I try. Because despite a tumultuous start, my child was smiling like she always did when she swam; I could see that joyful, goggle-clad face each time she turned her mouth for air.
When my daughter hopped out of the pool, she briefly conversed with the lane timer. A huge grin broke out on her water-kissed face when the timer informed her that she beat her best time. And when my child walked toward me, I swear she looked taller. Bigger. More grown up. My new hero walked toward me.
It might seem odd. I write this story as though some grand achievement occurred. And if I were to view this experience using 21st century standards of success, there is nothing note-worthy here. My child did not win her race or any of her other three events that day—nor did she dive from the blocks.
But I didn’t view this experience through the eyes of mainstream society; I viewed it using a beautiful “Hands Free” perspective … and that makes all the difference … a life-changing difference.
And what I witnessed in the water is the essence of grasping what matters—in particular, that image of my child sliding herself into the water as the anxious onlookers waited for her to climb onto the block.
How easy it would have been for her to say, “I am not good enough.”
And walk away.
How easy would it have been for her to declare: “I am not a real swimmer.”
And refuse to try.
How easy it would have been to shamefully hang her head in defeat.
And give up.
How easy it would have been to miss an opportunity to shine.
And never try again.
But this child did not take the easy route. Instead, she courageously did what she needed to do to participate. And for her that meant rejecting the pressure to do what everyone else was doing and do what was comfortable for her.
My child may not have dove in headfirst, but she gave it her all … toes first and accompanied with a smile. She didn’t let an unusual entrance ruin a perfectly good swim, a perfectly good meet, a perfectly good day, or a perfectly good life.
Suddenly this child’s moment of “weakness,” became her moment of unimaginable strength.
Friends, I am simply the messenger on this life-changing journey to grasp what really matters. And today’s message is brought to you by one of my greatest teachers along this “Hands Free” journey. Today’s message is this:
Living life fully takes courage. And sometimes it may mean doing things differently than everyone else.
Living life fully is not in the first place finish, the ribbons, or the perfect form; it’s the joy you feel in your heart because you were brave enough to try.
Living life fully doesn’t require diving in headfirst, sometimes it means getting your toes wet to see what you are made of.
And finally …
Living life fully means becoming an unsuspecting hero to those who mistakenly let perfection sabotage their happiness—because if you haven’t heard the news: Happiness trumps perfection. Every. Single. Time.
Just watch the happy kid in the swim cap.
She is living proof that it takes an imperfect dive to fully embrace every drop of your beautiful life.
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In our high-pressured, achievement-oriented society, we are lead to believe it’s all or nothing … it’s win or go home … it’s about being the fastest, the best, and the standout among the rest … for ourselves and for our children. But what if we were to focus less on outside influences and expectations and instead celebrate personal triumphs and inner joy?
Becoming truly “Hands Free” for me meant I stopped shying away from living my life because I thought I couldn’t be perfect … or that I might fail … or that others would disapprove … or that I wasn’t “good enough.”
Through this journey, I learned living “Hands Free” means going after a dream with a less than perfect entry … and just acknowledging I showed up, I tried, counts for something … something that matters.
Will you join me in redefining standards of success for our life endeavors? Our children can learn so much about living joyfully simply by watching us live.
Thank you for being a part of The Hands Free Revolution . Your presence, comments, and words of encouragement are truly among my greatest joys.
The The Imperfect Approach to Living Life by Hands Free Mama, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Bravo! I surely loved this post and it’s food for thought today!
Rachel, my sweet friend, you have put into words the essence of your message once again. Much love to you and the girls!
I absolutely loved this! I wonder if I will have the strength to let my boy acheive at his own pace. Not for the social pressure, but by not encouraging him am I holding him back? My 3.5YO is already, to me, everything that he ever needs to be; loving, funny, curious, smart, adventurous & kind. He walked, talked, & potty trained “late” – my attitude was, in his own time. But doctors and grandparents were concerned he would fall behind & I needed to be more concerned. Speech thereapy, occupational therepy were needed. So, now I worry, am I doing my love a disservice when I don’t nudge him a little. After reading your post and really considering, I think I am back to, in his own time. Thank you for this message.
I got tears in my eyes reading this. It brought back a memory I hadn’t thought of in a long time. When I was a little girl, I too did not have the courage to dive in head first. When I was in swimming competitions, I usually finished close to last. Yet I loved the feeling of just moving in the water, so none of that mattered to me. I would be the only one starting from down there – I still remember pushing off from the side with all I had, like your little girl. I never expected to win – knew I would not come close – but it was okay, because I did not base any of my self-worth on my swimming performance… and my parents didn’t either. No one was going to make fun of me – except perhaps my older brothers in jest. In those moments, I was free to fail. There was no pressure – no expectations (unlike with my school work)… and I was simply allowed to be, to breathe, to enjoy.
I am 32 now and the mother of a 19-month-old little boy. I still don’t dive in head first – never have – and I hope to convey to my son that it is okay to have fears. Never have I viewed it as much of a weakness, just a difference – one of the many curiosities in life.
Oh Linda, I cannot thank you enough for this. In sharing your beautiful memory as a child who feared diving in headfirst, you have affirmed my belief in letting my daughter pursue her life’s joy in the way that is comfortable to her. I am truly grateful for your story tonight. I will remember your words: “I never expected to win – knew I would not come close – but it was okay, because I did not base any of my self-worth on my swimming performance… and my parents didn’t either.” Thank you!
Thank you for your reply! You are an inspiration to me.
What a beautiful message, thank you.
Wonderful
A beautiful testament to the love of one mother- of her child and her self. Thank you for your courage and encouragement to just “show up”, without expectation. I so appreciate you sharing your thoughts.
Carly
Thank you for this beautiful message …..
Beautiful Rachel! I am so proud of your daughter. What a star! She has so much wisdom and courage and you weave such a profound story from her achievement. X
She’s a cool kid, good to have a strong child like that. You’re obviously doing something right!
Awesome post. I probably would have run away crying. So glad she was able to just get in and do it anyway.
I love your posts. They are so well written and emotionally engaging.
What I find interesting about the lesson here is how you describe having the courage to ‘be perfect by conforming’. I took a bigger lesson away: Perfection is however you define it to be. The real courage is making your own definition and standing up for that.
If I were you, this would be the lesson that I would hope my child understood. Because they truly great people in history (Lincoln, Jobs, Ford, Franklin, King) all went against the tide. They knew what they wanted, and through sheer persistance and force of will, they were able realize that dream. Without compromising their values.
In that sense, your daughter did the same. She knew what she wanted, and she knew what she wasn’t willing to do. So she persisted through until she got to where she wanted to be.
“The real courage is making your own definition and standing up for that”! Beautiful!
, thank you for reminding me of that!
Such a message that I wish I had learned better as a child and one that I hope I can teach my daughters as they grow. Conformity is for the cows,
Rachel,
Having grown up playing in highly competitive baseball leagues, I have seen a child’s burnout and emotional instability that comes from the parent believing their child is better than they are.
I have witnessed children being pushed well beyond their limits of ability and the parents anger and disgust and often words that kill the spirit of their child.
Most recently, as a Dad, I heard words that created an anger so deep I had to remove myself from the situation and could not enjoy watching my six-year-old son play soccer.
The father of one of the boys on my son’s team had unrealistic expectations of his child. Even a casual observer would have noticed that the boy could not physically keep up with the other kids. Watching longer and you would see that the boys emotional maturity was also well behind his teammates.
Even now, his father’s words echo in my mind, “You better run or I’ll come out there and break your legs!”
I applaud you, Rachel, for allowing your daughter to be comfortable with her current abilities. I assure you, she will gain so much more and want to swim longer by not feeling the unnecessary pressures many parents place on their children.
And, understand, this is coming from the guy that doesn’t believe that we should keep score and not everyone should get a trophy.
Chad, thank you for taking time to share. Your experience on the soccer field is disheartening, to say the least. As a former high school tennis coach and now sports parent, I have seen similar situations myself. I cannot think of one instance where this kind of message, said to a child during a sporting event, made that child go back out and perform better. What I saw an increased level of nerves, shame, and hopelessness. The impact of that kind of pressure is clearly visible on a child’s face. Many of my readers have shared what it was like to grow up with parents who they could never please. It leaves an emotional scar. My heart goes out to children young and old who never knew the feeling of unconditional acceptance for just being themselves. I appreciate you taking the time to provide such a thoughtful response.
Disgusting. I would have loved to see someone stop the game and confront him, tell him what his behavior does to his child. If he would say that in public, imagine what he does in the privacy of their home. Poor boy, my heart goes out to him.
You absolutely MUST read “Mindset” by Carol Dweck. You will love it. It’s about having a fixed mindset vs. a growth mindset, and covers sports, business, learning, and life. Trying to beat your best time and sticking with things, despite odds, will win every time.
Thank you, Lori! You know me well. This sounds like a great read that will reinforce the way we are striving to let go and live. I appreciate you sharing this.
She has the most beautiful, wise soul! I am so that you also had courage – the courage to let her be herself, despite what people might think.
I love this story and remember my “Drill Sergeant” days (as do my almost grown children). I’m glad I’ve had a chance to learn to let go and that with them it wasn’t too late. What inspiration you are providing for so many newly seasoned and seasoned moms! Bravo!
Thank you for your loving support and encouragement, Kimberly!
Words I needed so today. Thank you.
I am so glad. Thank you for telling me, Mary. xo
This post today applies to ME. A 40-year-old woman with a 2 1/2 year-old-child. Thank you for this because I now realize that it’s ok that I will more-than-likely run a 14-minute mile in the half-marathon I’m running in February.
I have tried for over a month to speed this up. And while this former couch potato can’t run fast, I can run long. I ran 5 miles (took 1 hour 23 minutes) and this week I will run 6.50 (I expect it to take almost 2 hours), but this post shows me it’s OK. I’m out there doing it and believe me, I definitely have a smile on my face afterwards.
I’m doing something with my body I never thought possible. But I have put this pressure on myself to be like everybody else. Somehow I think a 14-minute-mile just isn’t good enough. I feel like I should run one mile in 11 minutes or less like everybody else does.
Thank you and your daughter for showing me that it’s all ok.
Oh Wendy, I WISH you could see the smile on my face right now. Reading your words and imagining you out there running a 1/2 marathon at your OWN steady pace is such an inspiration to me! I think what you are doing with your body, your mind, your spirit, is incredible. Thank God, you have recognized it’s not about how fast you do it, it’s that you are DOING IT! And when you run that 1/2 marathon in Feb. imagine my daughter and I cheering for you — because we are and we will be! If I could hug you right now, I would. THANK YOU for sharing and making me smile.
I have recently stumbled across your blog and have loved everything I have read so far. You have become my source of perspective and moment of reflection each day.
Thank you!!
How kind of you to tell me, Michelle! This means so much to me! I am so glad you are on this journey with me.
Ohhhh, your posts just kill me! Once again, I’m typing my comments with tears rolling down my face. Bravo!
Simply amazing.
Thank you…again.
Love it Rachel! And love Come As You Are! Thank you for paying attention, connecting and inspiring with every post. Always happy to see something from you in my inbox
Thank you for this wonderful post!
Your story is truly touching. As a mom of 2 young boys I am excited about guiding and supporting them as they define their own successes and not the successes that society defines. I want to invest in loving my children unconditionally regardless of how they live life. Thank you Rachel!
Thank you Rachel and congratulations to you and your daughter for being brave enough to focus on what really matters, not what we get conned into thinking matters by society. I never would have been as brave as your daughter (I would have been so concerned with what other people thought of me) but I intend to do everything I can to make sure my own kids would be as courageous as yours. Your posts never fail to deeply resonate with me.
I have tears in my eyes as I read this post. There’s so much here. Fear. Sadness. Joy. Letting go. Acceptance. Thank you for giving us the chance to travel on your journey with you. I look forward to reading more of your posts.
Thank you for your wonderful blog! I was so touched by this post. I have struggled with feeling the pressure that my child must conform to authoritarian standards of behavior in 2nd/3rd grade sports that don’t allow for feeling and expressing any emotion. My child seems to be gifted with athletic skill, but he’s sensitive, has intense emotions and is very hard on himself when he feels he has “fallen short”. I’m trying to accept and support him and let go of feeling judgement.
Thank you for sharing your own experiences with this type of pressure to succeed per societal standards. I commend you for the role modeling you are providing for your son. As a child, I was very hard on myself, too. It always helped me to know my parents loved me and supported me no matter what. Thank you for taking the time to share.
Going in head first *is* scary. I remember when my swim instructor gave the dive lesson, the tread water lesson, and the put your face in water and breath to the side freestyle lesson. And I still think diving is the hardest and remember that fear well! It’s tough to go in head first before your feet. It’s like going into some sort of unknown abyss.
Eventually, I became comfortable with it, continued swimming and even swam with the varsity team in high school. But I still remember being afraid when I was small. It’s easy to let perfection stand in the way of going for what you want. But choosing to take that first step is a brave choice that not everyone makes. And it’s choices like this one that will make all the difference in her life.
Thank you so much for sharing your own experiences with diving in headfirst, Elizabeth. It really has been enlightening to read these wonderful comments from child swimmers who are now adults. It has been very affirming to me and to the choices I am making for my child. Thank you for taking the time to share!
I can’t thank you enough for opening your life and thoughts to us all. You are truly an encouragement to myself and many other mothers that are always trying to improve their relationship with their children. Each time I read one of your blog entries, it ignites a fire within me, to embrace life and the simple beauty of my children. God bless you!!
Wow, Gina. You have truly made my day. Thank you for such beautiful words. It means the world.
I am the “Hands Free Wanna Be ” Mom of a very highly sensitive, amazing little ten year old little guy who is struggling desperately himself, to learn to let things just “be”. I’m finally “getting it” that if I sit back, even with welled up tears in my eyes, but sit back nonetheless, that God will work in his precious life and He will allow in only those disappointments and “mess-ups” that what will strengthen him. http://thesimplifiedfamily.com/our-grand-slam-2/
What a beautiful post! Thank you for providing the link. I have experienced that same feeling of exploding JOY when my children overcome a fear or challenge. You described it so well in your lovely post. Thank you for sharing your wisdom … letting things BE is difficult at times, especially when it comes to our children, but there is freedom from failure and beautiful inner growth — for our children and ourselves — when we do!
OH I do love this post!!! And it certainly hits home.
“she courageously did what she needed to do to participate.” brought tears to my eyes. Powerful words for individuals of all ages. I’m going to carry them around inside of me and apply them to my life too!
I saw a quote recently from a writer named Mary Ann Radmacher: “Courage doesn’t always roar. sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”
I’m changing it to honor your daughter: “Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it just slips quietly into the pool and does its thing.”
I have seen that quote by Radmacher, but I must say I love your “revised” version even more!!!! Thank you, Lisa. You have made me smile!!!
Your daughters are SO very lucky to have you. You are an inspiration to me as a mother and as a writer! God bless you!