Trust is hard and necessary

A recent moment of parenting awe

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My mind has been turning a lot on trust. I’ve had many conversations with myself in the past several weeks where I keep telling myself to trust—in the process, in the relationships and reputation I have built, in the lessons I need to learn amidst uncertainty.

I imagine many parents and caregivers would agree that surrendering to trust can be difficult when it comes to kids. Raising another human being is so many things—one of them being fucking terrifying, given that it is a huge role for which many of us have little to no training. There are myriad decisions and forks in the road, and these days, even the most minute decisions can seem consequential.

I often joke that I’m the world’s worst Tiger Mom. I don’t brow beat over grades (hell, I take pride in not knowing how to access the school grade portal). I don’t push my kids to rack up accolades. I work to change the (bullshit) narrative about going to the “best” college or how success is defined by specific careers or where you choose to live. 

Instead, I encourage my kids towards things like balance and sleep and showing up as ethical people anchored in their values, both for themselves and in their relationships. I want my kids to be good humans who care and embody a desire to help, in whatever form that may take. I want them to find things that light them up and make them feel curious, challenged, and fulfilled.

And all of this takes the hard and necessary act of trust.

I do understand the appeal of a more prescriptive, achievement-oriented model of parenting. Accolades, board scores, GPAs, and years spent on enrichment activities are quantifiable. Believe me, as a mega nerd and former scientist, I understand the comfort that comes with numbers. It feels more straightforward to trust in numbers rather than vague goals like “be a good human.”

And I know that numbers aren’t everything. Numbers sometimes even let us down, in particular when we rely on them in the context of a system rife with patriarchy and privilege.

And while yes, trusting in the process of raising good humans is vague, harder to quantify, and sometimes agonizing in its long-term scope, every now and then you may be faced with a moment of awe like the one I experienced this past weekend.

This has been a big year for our family system, with Laurel off at college. It has involved a lot of growth for all of us but of course for Laurel most of all, as her daily life changed in extraordinary ways compared to the rest of us, still at home doing our usual thing. It has been incredible to witness her thriving from a distance. Yes, she is studying and being productive because she is self-driven and values the academic experience, but the things I have been most delighted to bear witness to are how she is forming wonderful relationships; finding mentors (and even serving as one); learning how to navigate challenging situations; finding delight and discovery in coursework outside of her major; figuring out how to navigate in, to, and from the largest city in the United States; and developing her unique lane and presence at the young age of 18.

This year Laurel joined the campus emergency medical service and started training to become an EMT. There have been moments—as she has told me about her volunteer overnight shifts and many hours of coursework—where I have felt concerned about the load in relation to everything else she is doing. I have needed to bite my tongue and trust in her finding her way and figuring out how to arrange her life, prioritize, balance things, hopefully get a good night of sleep and good food.

She is an adult after all.

This past Saturday, as part of Laurel’s EMT training, she headed off campus to work a 12-hour shift, riding an ambulance to serve one of New York's hospitals. 

I was worried when she headed out to the hospital early Saturday morning. I was worried about what she might see on her shift. I was worried about her getting attacked on the job. I was worried about whether she would get a break to eat lunch. I was worried about how she would get back to campus after the shift. I was worried about her getting sick before finals after pushing so hard.

And I just had to trust.

We hopped on FaceTime after Laurel returned to her dorm after the shift. I was in awe hearing her recount how the system worked; after each call they responded to, the medical team signaled they were available, and often within 10 minutes they responded to the next call—they did this on repeat for 12 hours. Laurel was energized by how much she was able to put her training into action to care for patients. She looked happy and ready to conquer the world. One might think she might want to tuck in with Netflix and chill the rest of the night but she was about to take a shower and head to an evening event on campus that started at 9pm. 

After our call I was filled with awe, thinking about what a gift it is to bear witness to the evolution of another person, in particular one who depended 100% on you in utero and who you have supported, worried about, held hope for, and celebrated for 18 years. As a parent who—by way of forgoing things like the school portal and the push to strive for metrics and accolades—has felt like an odd duck and also has remained 100% committed to trying to raise my kids to be good humans and trusting in the squishiness of that goal, I felt so grateful.

Way to go, Laurel. I am so impressed with how you show up in the world and care for others. I am a slow work in progress, but you are making it easier for me to sit back and trust.

Note: I asked Laurel for consent to share about her EMT training and recent 12-hour shift and also received her permission to share this photo.