He helped his daughter navigate her emotions by letting her unravel—and then helping her rebuild.
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“I forgot my Converse shoes!” My 10-year-old daughter Kaitlyn spoke these words with anguish halfway through an eight-hour drive coming home from my parents’ house after Christmas. She loves her red Converse high tops and she had just received this pair as a Christmas gift. Unbeknownst to her, I had packed them the night before in the vehicle but in that moment, I recognized I had two choices. First, I could tell her I had the shoes in the vehicle and save her from any emotions she was experiencing or I could stay quiet and let her unravel in the safe space that I could hold for her.
It was very tempting to take the first choice as I had taken that route ninety percent of the time up until now. Partly because I felt guilty for being away so much working on the rigs, so when I was around I tried to do everything for her and partly because it would just be easier. Easier to not listen to the inevitable crying and whining and easier to just tell her to suck it up, that it wasn’t a big deal. My intuition told me to go with the first choice and I knew that even though it would be uncomfortable, we could both grow tremendously. “Oh no,” I said, “what are we going to do about it?”
We discussed various scenarios on how to get the shoes home. She decided that mailing them was the best option but that didn’t fit into her plans for wearing them on her New Years trip with her Mom to the local ski hill. There just wouldn’t be enough time for the post office to deliver them without using the costly Express Post.
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When she realized this she started crying again. Then she would stare out the window forlornly for a while then fall back into crying. I barely said anything. I didn’t try to comfort her in any way and I didn’t limit her emotional expression in any way. If I had done either of those I knew that the lesson wouldn’t be as effective.
After about another two hours of driving, she spoke up again. “Oh Mom is going to be so mad at me!”
“Maybe,” I said, knowing that her Mom wouldn’t be mad at all but I could see she was scared to tell her Mom so I saw more room for growth.
After another half hour of window-staring and some more crying, she took the initiative and called her Mom. “That’s no problem Kaitlyn,” her Mom said, “ You have other shoes you can wear here and I’m sure Nana and Grandad will mail them to us.” I had a really hard time right then not showing Kaitlyn how proud I was of her for facing her fear head on.
The last two hours of the drive was made mostly in silence with a music playing softly in the background punctuated by an occasional crying bout from Kaitlyn.
When we arrived home, I pulled out the box I had packed them in and showed the shoes to Kaitlyn. “Awww Dad! You knew they were in there the whole time??”
“Yes I did Kaitlyn, but I am so proud of you for learning how to navigate your own emotions and how to self-soothe. And I am so proud of you for facing your fear and calling Mom to tell her about it. You are amazing.”
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In that moment, I felt a trust break between us.
It was a trust that I would always do everything for her. That I would always fix everything for her. It was also a realization for her that even though life is going to throw curve balls, she could get through them herself when given a safe place to unravel.
I am able to provide that space for her right now and later in life she will be able to hold that space for herself. She will learn to depend less and less on me and more and more on herself. She is so strong and so powerful but she won’t know that until she finds it in herself.
It’s my job as a parent to protect her but also to prepare her so when she isn’t in my physical presence that she has the confidence to say, “Hey I can do this myself.”
And that is powerful.
I also guarantee she will remember her red Converse hightops next trip.
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Photo: lisaclarke/Flickr
And thank you for sharing this!
Little girls don’t need a father, they need a daddy, and just as much as our boys. Saw it in my daughter every day. Smart, pretty, educated, and now I’m encouraging her to take a shot at her own businessmen. If it works, great. If it fails, I’m still her safety net. Always will be. Just knowing that gives her confidence.
All about family. You’re a good dad, man.
Thanks DJ