Firstborn Mistakes

Forgiving ourselves for wanting them to be their potential

There’s a classic saying that “if I were him/her/them, I’d have done it like this.” You can use that phrase on just about everything, including parenting, but no matter how perfect our hindsight vision is, we could never be that person, with all the events, experiences, and stories that went into forming them. We can only be exactly who we are, bringing all our own experiences into whatever situation we think we’d do better.

That fact also applies to our past selves – we made the decisions we made, and parented the way we parented because of who we were then. It’s false logic to think we could go back and do anything differently than what we did (which is why I’m a huge advocate for self-forgiveness, apologies, and mindfully moving forward). We can’t change who we were, but we can share what we’ve learned and maybe provide a bit of insight, or a thought, or some institutional knowledge that another parent might hear, or consider, or question as they’re deciding who they’re going to be and how they’re going to parent.

As a writer who works with an editor, I know that the best critiques are the ones delivered in a sh*& sandwich, so I try to be mindful of that when I look at my own parenting choices – wrapping the hard truths inside the good decisions, accidental or intentional. So, here goes.

Our children are amazing, and to give us our due, we went above and beyond in our support of their passions, encouragement in whatever lit them up, joy in our kids’ accomplishments, and enjoyment of who they are.

We also, unknowingly, put a lot of pressure on them to achieve their potential. They basically got all our hopes, dreams, and expectations foisted on them, especially true for our firstborn, older by four years. It was … a lot. Their grades mattered. Every accomplishment was celebrated and bragged about, and we provided whatever opportunity we could for them to do more. They took it on, and it became part of how they put themselves together: perfectionism, high expectations, and a lot of pressure to do well in school, in activities, in life - practically textbook triggers for stress. And with the 20/20 vision of hindsight, I can look back on our parenting at all the ways we fostered potential instead of possibility.

I’m an oldest child, and if I had to guess, I’d say a lot of firstborns are put together in similar ways. We become the product of our parents’ expectations and we really don’t like to disappoint the people we care about. We feel responsible for things, we see a need and we fill it just because we can, and we can be paralyzed by our own need to do things right. My firstborn friends and I also grew up as the daughters of women who fought for their right to be professionals, where education was everything, and what you did in life defined you. I absolutely have that hardwired into my brain, and it’s with effort that I give myself permission to matter without accomplishments to back it up.

It can be hard to see beyond our kids’ potential – to see the people they are, with all of the strengths and weaknesses that come with their limited experiences in life. We want them to succeed in school because they have more college choices with better grades, but two years of junior college are just as valid, gap years can teach more about life than school can, and until a kid wants to learn, school can be just about figuring out social skills, classroom rules, and how to deliver enough to get by.

Life looks different now than it did when we thought we knew what success was. Our kids are the products of a completely different generation, with entirely different circumstances, experiences, choices, and parents than we had. Not better, not worse, just different. I can’t expect my kids to deal with their circumstances the way I did, because their circumstances didn’t exist for me. The only way to know what they’re going through is to hear it from them, through their filters and experiences and stories, and to be both a soft landing of unconditional love, and a pillar of support in whatever they need to figure themselves out.

So, if I had a bit of wisdom to give my younger self as I parented our children, I would tell myself to let go of “potential” and find ways to explore “possible” instead. Sure, grades can make a difference to opportunity, but so can drive and passion. Listening – really listening – to our kids is a good first step. Celebrating the attempts as often as the achievements is another. And being open to everything they could do or anyone they could be is vital to our kids’ willingness to try. As I’ve learned with our second child, we take the consequences to grades when we miss school to travel, and that’s okay. “Potential” is by definition limited to what is capable of becoming real – but possibility is limitless, and so much fun to explore.