More Than You Think

One of the things I think about a lot (probably more than anything else) is how to best prepare my sons for life. Not just to survive life but to thrive in it. I often reflect on how different their path is to mine as they won’t have the same struggles as I did. That’s a good thing but also a dynamic that changes how to raise them.

Now to be clear, despite having challenges, I had many privileges growing up. The biggest one was having two parents. I didn’t realise at the time just how impactful that was. Of course, there are many people who grow up without both parents and still become great people but as a parent, I’ve seen firsthand the weight a parent carries and I couldn’t imagine trying to do it alone. With the sacrifices that need to be made, I really take my hat off to all single parents who make it work.

As a dad, I’m trying to find a balance between giving my boys everything they need and not making it too easy for them to miss the lessons that shaped me. It’s tempting to want to shield them from discomfort but I’ve figured that if they never struggle, they never grow.

The gift of hunger

One of the biggest gifts I got from my environment and my personal setbacks was hunger. Not just the kind that pushes you to get out of bed and hustle but the kind that makes you want to be better than you were yesterday. That’s not something you can just transfer to a child. I’ve found it comes from having something out of reach and choosing to chase it anyway.

For me, I believe my hunger came from being in a family and amongst other families, where money was tight. Now that won’t be the case for them. The work we are doing as a family means having money will never be a problem. I remember being in my teens, aspiring for this type of life and thinking all our problems would be solved once we had wealth. Now having wealth will solve money problems but I’ve also learnt from other families that it creates another problem that I’ve never had to deal with. That problem is entitlement.

Dealing with entitlement

I’ve been sitting with this question for awhile and that is - How do I help my children build character when they will never have to go without?

That’s a question I never had to answer growing up. I’ve had to work harder and smarter, given my circumstances but that also means they might never experience the hunger that sharpened me. I don’t want them to confuse comfort with certainty or access with effort. I want them to appreciate what they have but not feel as if they have nothing to contribute to this world. I’ve seen and spoken to families that have shown me that entitlement can creep in when struggle is removed entirely.

So I’ve been paying close attention to how I can create an environment where they can stand on the platform we’ve built for them, without removing the moments of struggle that can help them stretch and grow.

Practising guided struggle

I came across a video of Pharrell that really captured this idea. In it, he talks about how struggle shapes who we are and how it teaches us to work hard, think deeply and find our own way. What stood out most was his phrase: guided struggle. The idea that struggle doesn’t have to mean suffering. It can be intentional, framed and supported.

As a parent, I don’t want to replicate trauma for my kids. I want to create a home where they’re encouraged to wrestle with hard things but not feel alone in them. Where they can learn to solve their own problems but know I’ve always got their back.

So I thought why not share my current approaches for how I believe you can create guided struggle. I’m no expert, I’m still learning but these are a few approaches that I’ve implemented and have observed from others. They are:

1. Letting them sit with frustration
   
   One of the biggest challenges I’ve had with parenting is preventing the urge to jump in and fix things. It’s instinctual like I see them struggle and I want to remove the discomfort. I’ve caught myself stepping in too quickly multiple times, trying to smooth things out before they’ve had a chance to figure it out for themselves. What I’ve noticed is that when I hold back, even just a little, something shifts. That moment of “I don’t know how” becomes an opening for them to try, to test and to think.
   
   Now, I don’t think it’s about letting them drown in frustration or making everything hard just for the sake of it. I still want them to know that I'm here to support them. It’s finding that balance, between stepping in and stepping back and I’m learning that creating controlled environments where they have to persevere and problem-solve is where some of the most valuable growth happens. It’s not about watching them suffer; it’s about giving them the space to build confidence in their own ability to figure things out.
   

2. Asking instead of instructing
   
   I’ve started shifting away from giving instructions and more toward asking questions. It’s not always easy especially when time’s tight or patience is thin but I’m realising that the way I speak to them shapes how they think. When I ask, “What do you think we could try?” instead of saying “Do this,” I’m inviting them into the process. I want them to feel ownership over their actions, not just compliance.
   
   It’s small but it adds up. Questions like “What do you reckon happened there?” open the door to reflection, rather than blame. They start to connect cause and effect, action and consequence. More importantly, they start developing trust in their own judgment. I’m not always going to be around to tell them what to do but if they can learn how to ask themselves the right questions, they’ll be better equipped to navigate whatever life throws at them.
   

3. Showing, not just telling
   
   Of everything, this might be the most important and the hardest. I’ve realised that it’s not enough to tell my kids what resilience looks like or talk about how important it is to keep going. They need to see it. So I’ve made a conscious effort to let them watch me wrestle with my own challenges. Whether it’s something going wrong with work or just feeling off on a hard day, I try not to hide it from them. I want them to understand that adults struggle too and that it doesn’t mean something’s broken. It means we’re human.
   
   That doesn’t mean dumping all my stress on them but it does mean being real. Sharing my process. Talking through what I’m feeling and what I’m doing about it. I want them to see that learning is ongoing, that growth is uncomfortable and that persistence is part of the journey. If I can model that in front of them, then maybe they’ll carry that same approach into their own lives, not feeling ashamed when things get hard but knowing that’s often where the most growth is waiting.

Building without breaking

This approach takes patience. I wonder all the time if I’m doing what’s right. I keep reminding myself that growth doesn’t need to be born from poverty or pain. It can come from curiosity, consistency and the belief that your effort matters.

I’m not trying to recreate the struggles of my childhood for my boys. I am trying to honour what those struggles taught me. In doing so, I hope they can build their character, find their desire and carry that into their future.

As a parent I don’t see my role to just protect them. I believe I’m responsible for preparing them beyond the time they share with us. This isn’t about choosing what they should desire either, this is about me trying to help them build the skills they need so they can self-manage.

That means letting them struggle. Just enough to realise they’re capable of more than they think and to carry that belief with them for the rest of their lives.