Training Wheels of Life

As a child, learning to ride a bike with training wheels was a significant milestone. I felt safe and wobbly but supported, like I had a backup plan if I tipped too far one way. My parents, bless them, stood nearby shouting encouragement and occasionally offering unsolicited advice that I mostly ignored.

Eventually, those training wheels had to come off. At first, I crashed like the rest of them. But that’s how I learned. And a funny thing: those same wheels that helped me in the beginning would have become a real hindrance if I had never let them go.

Life works the same way.

My emotional training wheels: those early years of support, protection, and influence, set the course for how I learned to steer through life, whether they steadied me or not. For others, they were bent, missing bolts, or weren't there at all. But regardless of how I started, it eventually became my bike to ride.

Sure, I could blame my parents for some of the potholes I’ve hit. I could say, “If they’d taught me better, I’d be cruising by now,” and that story might get a few sympathetic nods. But sympathy wouldn't get me down the road any faster.

At some point, I had to say: “Enough with the excuses.” Even if my parents forgot or refused to take the training wheels off, it’s my job to do it now.

Do I want to keep riding in circles at five miles per hour, clanking along with those little side wheels scraping the pavement? Or do I want to go fast, take some risks, and feel the wind in my face?

I’m not a victim of my past. I am the one steering now, and if I want to grow up, I’ve got to stop leaning on old supports that don’t serve me. I can thank them, learn from them, and move forward. No more blaming. No more wobbling or poor me.

Just me and my grown-up bike on the open road.

Let’s go ride.

Watch for the blind spots.

---

👀 Don’t wait to uncover what you don’t know you don’t know! 💡Blind Spots in Relationships, get your copy today, http://tinyurl.com/yc3usfsp