(originally published on my medium blog)
A few months back, we had a milestone in our house — my daughter finally found the courage to talk to her riding instructor about being a pony camp counselor this summer. It might not sound like a big deal, but for my 9-year-old, it was one of the hardest things “she’s ever done in her whole entire life!” I know because she told me 12 times on the way home.
She’s wanted to be a counselor since her first pony camp three years ago. We talked about what it would take to be one (she had to be able to fully tack her horse with no help — bridal and hoof picking included) and how she could work on the skills to get there. She had to show responsibility, consistency, and dedication before being “ready.”
She’s worked hard this past year to get those skills down on a pony that rarely wanted to cooperate. As she succeeded and gained confidence, she pressed me to ask on her behalf. After the 11th request, I decided that this was her mission, not mine. If she wanted it, she could be the one to ask for it, and I told her such.
It took her a solid four months to finally work up the courage. As the day came (and went a few times), she rehearsed what she wanted to say in her head so she wouldn’t mumble or rush. Finally, at the end of one lesson, I gave her an excuse to return to the lower ring and deliver something, and she seized the opportunity.
She came running back, vibrating with excitement and chattering a mile a minute about what she said, what her instructor said, and how excited she was (and on and on.) Her excitement (and her pride) was palpable. Ultimately, her instructor agreed that she’d been working hard and showing all the signs of being “ready” and was very impressed that she had the courage to ask on her own.
By the end of this summer, she will have counseled at three camps, earned hours of extra riding time, and learned leadership skills and responsibility by 10 years old that most won’t know until they’re in their 20s. All because she understood the assignment and mustered up a little courage to ask a hard question.
Parenting is tough, and most days, I’m pretty sure I’m doing it wrong, but these little break throughs and glimpses give me hope that somewhere, somehow it’s working.