Living On Your Own Terms

We’re in the U.S. right now. Just the four of us—me, my wife, and our two kids. It’s been a long time since we’ve spent this much uninterrupted time together. No agendas. No rushing. Just being around each other.
And I keep noticing things.

Both my kids have grown into adults I’m genuinely proud of. They’re comfortable in their own skin. They have opinions. They make choices. Some I fully agree with—some I don’t. And sitting with that has been… interesting.

It’s made me think about my own role as a parent.

I know there were times I tried to straitjacket them. Not consciously. But in that assertive, well-meaning way parents do……How you should behave. What makes sense. What “good” looks like. It comes from love, but also from fear. From wanting them to be accepted. Safe. Successful.

I don’t know if I got it right. Parenting doesn’t come with a scorecard.

What I’m realising now is something simpler. You have no responsibility to live up to what other people think you ought to accomplish. I have no obligation to be who others expect me to be. And neither do my kids. When expectations don’t fit, that’s not a personal failure. It’s just a bad fit.

Each person is running their own life marathon. Different pace. Different route. You don’t get to run it for them.

The good news—maybe the only news that matters—is that my kids seem to be learning how to live on their own terms. Maybe not because I always knew when to step back. Possibly despite me.

And strangely, I’m okay sitting with that. That feels like growth.