Skip to main content

Gardener vs Lifeguard: Which Kind of Parent Are You?

Gardener vs Lifeguard: Which Kind of Parent Are You?

Slowly, slowly, now—let’s grow.

Parenting is hard work—no matter how you do it. Whether you're nurturing your child from the roots or diving in to save them from drowning, the emotional labor is real. But have you ever thought about what kind of parent you are?

Are you a gardener or a lifeguard?


The Gardener Parent

Gardeners begin early. They prepare the soil. They plant seeds. They water. They prune. They stay consistent through the storms and dry spells. Gardener parents take the time to build their child’s foundation with love, boundaries, and trust. They invest in the quiet moments: bedtime stories, honest conversations, gentle discipline, encouragement of curiosity.

Their strength is patience. They know growth isn’t instant—it’s slow and invisible at times. But they believe that if they tend to the roots, the child will eventually bloom in their own season.


The Lifeguard Parent

Lifeguard parents spring into action when the waves get rough. They often come in when things have gone wrong—when the child is drowning in stress, poor choices, or mental health crises. They’re strong, responsive, heroic. They do what it takes to pull their child to safety, sometimes at the cost of their own peace.

Lifeguard parenting is exhausting. It’s reactive. It works best in emergencies—but it isn’t sustainable for the long haul. And the hardest part? Sometimes, the rescues happen too late. The current is too strong. Or the child doesn’t know how to swim because they never got the chance to learn in calm waters.

Both Are Hard Work

Let’s be clear: both roles require incredible strength. Sometimes we don’t get to choose which one we become. Life happens. Trauma hits. Mental health crumbles. Circumstances change. We do the best we can with what we have.

But what if we could shift from being a full-time lifeguard to more of a gardener?

  • What if we slowed down just enough to plant seeds instead of only reacting to storms?
  • What if we spent time building trust, teaching resilience, and modelling self-love before things fell apart?

It doesn’t mean we’ll never have to jump in and rescue. But maybe—just maybe—we’d have fewer emergencies.

So… Which Kind Are You?

Maybe you're both, depending on the day. That’s okay.

But here’s a gentle nudge: The earlier we plant, the stronger the roots.


Slowly, slowly, now—let’s grow.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What IMH Taught Me About Love (No, Really)

If you had told me a few years ago that I’d be writing about my time at the Institute of Mental Health (IMH) with anything close to fondness, I would’ve laughed (then probably cried). Back then, walking into IMH felt like the greatest tragedy. Like I’d failed my family and myself.  But here’s the plot twist: it wasn’t the end of my life, not by a long shot. It was the beginning of something strangely beautiful. Don’t get me wrong—being a patient at IMH was tough. The walls weren’t always comforting. The nights were long. And the questions in my head? Endless. But in that raw, stripped-down space, something softened in me. I began to notice the little acts of kindness—the nurse who remembered my name, the doctor who really listened, the other patients who just got it without me having to explain. I saw love there. Not the sappy, rom-com kind. But the fierce, quiet kind. The kind that shows up in crisis. The kind that shares a banana when you haven’t eaten all day. The kind that lis...
Post a Comment
Read more

Fame Lied to Us. We Were Always Talented.

Reclaiming Our Spark: In an Age of Celebrity-Worship, We've Forgotten Ourselves In this day and age of celebrity worship, we’ve unknowingly handed over our creative birthright. Scroll through social media, flip through the TV, or walk past a magazine stand — we're constantly bombarded with curated images of fame, talent, and perfection. We admire them, applaud them, and secretly wish we could be them. Somewhere along the way, we’ve bought into a lie: that greatness is reserved for the chosen few — the big names, the stars, the ones with millions of followers. We tell ourselves, “I could never sing like that,” “I can’t dance,” “I’m not creative,” and slowly, we accept a version of ourselves that is smaller, quieter, and dimmer than who we really are. But the truth is — we’ve forgotten. We’ve forgotten that we are all born creators . That spark we see in the ones we admire? It lives in us too. Before we learned to compare, before we learned the words “not good enough,” we wer...
Post a Comment
Read more