When the Training Wheels Come Off

I’ll never forget the day my dad took the training wheels off my bike. I was excited, nervous, and a little wobbly. As soon as he let go, I leaned the wrong way, toppled over, and scraped my knee.

Instead of comfort, I was met with judgment:
"Why did you lean that way?"
His words weren’t curious or kind—they were sharp, laced with disappointment.
I didn’t just hurt physically—I felt ashamed.

And for years, that shame stuck with me.
I learned, without anyone saying it directly, that mistakes made you stupid. That getting it wrong meant something was wrong with you.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized:
That wasn’t my belief.
It was his.

His voice became my inner critic.
Every time I messed up, I’d hear that same tone.
Why did you lean that way?
Why did you say that?
Why didn’t you know better?

But here’s the truth I know now:
✨ Mistakes are part of the process.
✨ Mistakes are how we learn.
✨ Mistakes are not a reflection of your worth—they’re a reflection of your growth.

That realization didn’t just change the way I speak to myself.
It changed the way I speak to my son.

Now, when he’s learning something new and falls, fumbles, or forgets—I don’t shame him. I don’t make it mean anything about who he is.
I remind him that this is how it works.
That even the best riders fall.
That falling doesn’t mean you failed—it means you tried.

I’m breaking the cycle.
But I couldn’t do that until I saw it for what it was: a cycle.

That’s why doing our own inner work as parents is so vital.
Because what we don’t heal, we hand down.

If we don’t take time to question the voices in our heads, we’ll end up becoming those voices for our kids.
Not because we’re bad parents.
But because we’re human.
Because we were shaped by someone else’s fears, someone else’s shame, someone else’s unresolved pain.

But healing is possible.
And every time we choose compassion over criticism…
Curiosity over judgment…
Connection over control…
We rewrite the story.

Not just for ourselves.
But for the little ones watching us—
The ones who are just learning to ride.