The Weight of Expectation

I’ve been thinking about expectations a lot lately. You know what I’ve been thinking? They suck. What’s got me onto this? Two things.

1. The HSC

2. The Olympics

Let me elaborate.

My eldest son, Tom is about to begin his HSC year. Two years after that it’s Issy’s turn then two years on from that, Lily. People tell me your first is the hardest but if my mental state is anything to go by I am in for a pretty rough ride. We all want our children to do well. Full stop. But it’s a very delicate tightrope walk between yours and their expectations and hopes and their abilities and performance.

On one hand I want him to put all his effort into this last year and give himself the widest range of opportunity and choice for tertiary study. Balancing this is the perspective that it is not the be all and end all if he falls short of what he “should” achieve. The world is a place of abundance and prospects for those who see past ATAR numbers and performance bands. Some of the most interesting and successful careers of former school and university peers are not those who posted the best marks. Life, as we are constantly reminded, is way more complex than that.

Now to the Olympics. Who could not fail to have their heart go out to Emily Seebohm when she cried to the (gleeful?) poolside interviewer that she was worried she had let down her parents and coach by coming second in the 100 metres backstroke. Who else wanted to reach inside the television to give her a big hug?

What did strike me was that the person she most disappointed was probably herself. However, as human beings we project outwards and assign our own feelings to those around us when they are hard to handle. For these young adults to reach the dizzy heights of international performance like the Olympics they are probably all too familiar with the crushing distress and moments of elation that accompanies striving for dreams and goals. Compare Emily’s reaction to those of Sally Pearson to see these polar opposites in action.

Disappointment is a damn uncomfortable feeling. But it is also entirely necessary. Why are we so afraid to stand up and say, yes, I am disappointed? Whether it’s in your performance, in your behaviour or in events that have affected you most of us get to experience the emotions that accompany letdowns, failures and near misses. Is it because admitting disappointment implies admitting defeat? Or lack of strength?

Of course it’s what you do with it or learn from it that counts and is your greatest teacher. Sometimes the lesson isn’t that the next time you will overcome all and be victorious. Sometimes (but not always) you only get one chance. It’s learning to live with and assimilate your disappointment into your human experience. There can only be one “winner” in every race so that would imply there has to be a whole lot of disappointment out there. There’s no shame in second, or third or all the places behind it. The real shame is getting stuck in a cycle of regrets and disillusionment.

What sucks about expectations is that we are hardwired to have them. Unless you are perhaps a Zen master sitting on top of a mountain meditating 24/7, who doesn’t want things for themselves or their loved ones? Keeping expectations realistic is the challenge as is managing the outcomes of not having our expectations met as I’ve described above.

As a parent, there’s no harder thing to sit with your child when they have missed out on something they want. A good mark, a place in a reps team, a prefect position. Parenting seems like a piece of cake when your child is literally AND metaphorically kicking goals in every area of their lives. Not so when their eyes well and voice cracks telling you their bad news. I’m slowly learning not to try and make everything better for them when this happens. Just listening to them and not pointing out their achievements and good points validates their experience way more than trying to gloss over something which is clearly important to them. The time to build them up again will come but for that short moment a hug and comfort is the best thing you can do.