And the day came when the demands of my leadership exceeded my skills as a leader. I suppose it had to happen sometime. Have you ever reached one of those moments? It’s like running off the end of the road into uncharted territory. There’s nothing to rely on. Nothing that had gone before me prepared me for this moment. What’s worse, this wasn’t regarding my leadership of myself–I had run off the road of my leadership as a parent. As difficult as it was to admit, the simple truth was I had exceeded my skills as a parent and had no idea what to do.
My daughter was two days into a six day summer camp when we received “the call.” First from the camp director giving us a head’s up, then from Sarah. I sat there on the phone listening as she clearly and articulately explained why she was unhappy and wanted to come home. I was oddly proud of her for how well she made her argument, but at the same time scared and confused because I knew deep in my heart that leaving camp was the wrong solution to the problem. Staying, however, meant asking her to spend three more nights in a place she desperately wanted to leave. I didn’t want her to feel abandoned and I didn’t want her to miss this opportunity.
I sat on the phone with my daughter, completely lost on how to parent and how to discern “the right thing to do.” Do I bring her home, fold her up in my arms and assure her everything will be OK, or kick in the tough love and “make” her stick it out? If you never found yourself in this situation, let me assure you, it sucks. Then it hit me: this was an impasse between my parental instincts and her own fears. Ta Da! It was her “butterfly moment,”
“Sarah,” I said, “This is your Butterfly Moment!”
“My what!?”
“Remember last year when you came home from science class and were telling us about how butterflies do their final growing and strengthening when emerging from the cocoon and how, no matter how painful it looks to us, we absolutely, positively can not help them? If we do, we will actually harm them and they will likely die?”
“Uuuuh, yeah?” she said.
“Well, this is your butterfly moment. This is one of those times when you have to do the growing, the learning, the self-reliance that will build your strength and stamina. I promise you, my sweet, if I bring you home it will do you more harm than good, but if you stay, come Friday, you will get off that bus and run over to us, and even if you never want to go back again, you will tell me how glad you are that you stayed and worked through this.”
“You can’t promise that,” she said.
“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I think I can. You’re not in harms way, the people are great, and I know, I just know, that when you choose to trust in yourself, rely on yourself and step into that version of you that I see, then you will make great friends and have a fantastic time. It’s only 4 more days. Do you think you can handle it for 4 more days?”
There was a long pause then she replied: “Fine.”
When we picked her up on Friday, not only did she admit to be glad she stayed, she added: “I might even want to go back again next year.”
When I asked what happened when she hung up the phone with us, she said she went into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and gave herself a pep-talk. Ahh, I thought, the first step in breaking through the cocoon!
Butterfly Moments. We all have them. They’re those moments when we have to take responsibility for the leadership of ourselves, and no one else can help us. And sometimes all we can do as a parent or a mentor or a leader of others is simply have the courage to admit: this isn’t my leadership moment. It’s theirs. And sometimes, all we can do is literally look ourselves in the eye and give ourselves a pep talk. After all, leadership comes from within, and sometimes bringing it forth feels like a butterfly bursting from a cocoon.
Step into YOUR butterfly moment.
