Simone and Swim Lessons
Self-care. Mental health. Setting limits. How do we know when to push through and when to stop? Which choice is braver? How do we decide?
Like many this week, I've been thinking a lot about these ideas.
As a former gymnast, I know both the mental toll and the danger of the sport (although I was never even close to Simone's level or even good at my low level). I know what it's like to form your self-worth and identity around your sport. I know what it's like to get in your head and be unable to perform skills I used to be able to do in my sleep. I experienced mental blocks on every event and my last couple years I competed watered down routines choreographed around the landmines of my fears.
I always thought I was a failure, and my gut response to Simone's withdrawal was that she was a failure as well.
I have spent the week examining my own misbeliefs about self-care and mental health, especially because I consider myself to be a mental health advocate. The last decade I have been learning to discern when my anxiety and depression is lying to me about my limitations and learning when to trust my body cues to rest, recharge, say no.
It’s even more complicated as a parent.
This week my kids started swim lessons. My four-year-old, who previously screamed every time he was splashed in the face, has surprised me with his tenacity and perseverance. With a clenched jaw and squinted eyes, he has let his swim instructor drop him into the pool. He has learned to VOLUNTARILY put his face in the water while humming Paw Patrol. The smile and pride on his face when he reaches the wall has filled my mama heart to bursting.
I was relieved, well actually, shocked, that the first lesson didn’t come with tears or resistance. I’ve been wondering how I as a parent should respond if it did. How do I know how much to push him to face his fears? How can I teach him to listen to his own intuition while forcing him to do something that scares the bejeezus out of him?
How do I balance the competing ideas I want him to learn: he can do hard things, but also to trust his intuition? How can I teach this when I haven’t learned it for myself?
I know this: I am delighted to see him trying, persevering, pushing through, but I would love him just as much if he didn't, if the breakthrough never came. And I’ve told him so, over and over.
And maybe that is what is so radical about Simone's decision (and was so initially grating to me). She modeled the hardest part of self-care, silencing the outside voices and listening to yourSELF, and being okay with the outcome.
Thank you, Simone, for showing that real strength is not in performing “no matter what,” but in choosing to believe your worth is not defined by any external outcome.
It’s a lesson I hope to learn and model as I continue this dance of boundaries and encouragement, prodding and unconditional love, with my kids--and with myself.