I was watching a couple of dads with their kids at a sports event the other day.
Nothing special. Just a normal Saturday. What stood out wasn’t the game. It was the dads and their sons.
One dad was obviously athletic. You could tell straight away. Known. Respected. His son was the same. Natural. Coordinated. Born to play.
The other dad looked more like your everyday office worker. Slightly clumsy. More comfortable behind a desk than throwing a ball. His son was the same.
Two completely different pairs. Or so I thought. As I watched, I started noticing the small things.
One kid kept glancing at his dad, looking for reassurance. The nod coming back. “You’ve got this, son.” The other kid was pumping. Couldn’t wait to get out there. His dad was the same.
Watching them on the paddock, one kid played a hell of a game, the other was terrible.
After the game, one looked like he’d had the time of his life, the other looked miserable. Only it wasn’t the kid I expected.
The accountant’s son loved every minute of it. Walking back to the car, replaying the highlights, high-fiving his dad. He was terrible.
The athlete’s son was incredible. Everything you’d want in a player. But you wouldn’t have known it watching him walk off the field. It looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Dad already had the notebook out. Straight into what looked like their post-game analysis.
And that got me thinking. Why do some kids feel pressure and others don’t?
I’m not talking about sport. I’m talking about life. Because under pressure on the field, the athlete’s son was calm, composed, in control. Off it, completely different story.
If you look at the issues affecting young people today, anxiety, depression and stress, I think the answer sits in that third one. Stress.
And the biggest driver of stress is expectation. Not always what parents say. What kids pick up.
Throughout my life, I’ve always placed huge expectations on myself. I had to be the best. I had to be perfect. Why? Because that’s what I saw growing up. Not in words. In behaviour.
And that’s the thing about perfectionism. You don’t have to say anything.
It’s in your reactions.
It’s in what you don’t celebrate.
It’s in the standard you quietly expect.
And kids feel it. So instead of playing freely, they play carefully. Instead of enjoying it, they overthink it.
Not because they’re not capable. Because they’re terrified of getting it wrong.
That’s the invisible pressure. And it’s heavy.
Both of those dads loved their kids. You could see it. Both were doing their best. But it wasn’t what they were saying that mattered. It was what they were carrying.
Because kids don’t become what we tell them. They become what we show them. And sometimes, the pressure we carry quietly becomes the pressure they live with loudly.
Under 25 and need someone to talk to? Book a free counsellor at gumbootfriday.org.nz — no GP referral needed.
