“If you don’t want to swim, don’t swim,” said the elegant older woman with bright azure eyes and flowing silver hair. I recall her hair vividly because she couldn’t take her eyes off mine, gently caressing my long, chestnut locks as she spoke. Her oceanic gaze seemed to penetrate my own green eyes. We were far from a swimming pool, and at the time, I was oblivious to the true meaning behind her words. She was an Alzheimer’s patient, and I heard her profound statement long before I became a mother. During a visit to my husband’s grandfather in a hospital unit for Alzheimer’s patients, this woman was inexplicably drawn to me—perhaps I reminded her of someone from her past. I sat there, allowing her to stroke my hair while she repeatedly mentioned her thoughts on swimming, occasionally grasping my face to hold my gaze. Over the years, her words have morphed into a metaphor for me—don’t engage in activities that don’t resonate with you. However, recently, I’ve been applying this wisdom more practically in my parenting journey with my son.
My son is nearly six years old, and he has yet to learn how to swim. I’ve echoed her sentiment: “If you don’t want to swim, don’t swim.” But swimming is a safety necessity, so he must learn. If he’s reluctant, that’s understandable, but he still needs to know how to swim. Despite our persistent efforts to teach him, he remains terrified of water. Once, when he was just two, we took a trip to the beach, and our house featured an in-ground pool surrounded by a fence. He wouldn’t even venture onto the poolside. After much coaxing, bribing, and eventual tears, he finally stood by the pool on our last day there. He screamed the entire two minutes we thought we might be traumatizing him, so we decided to pause our attempts for a while.
We revisited the idea the following year, enrolling him in swim classes. My husband joined him in the water for the Mommy and Me program. My son, then three, clung tightly to his father while the younger children splashed about. We didn’t pressure him; instead, we allowed him to remain in floatation devices, and he’s never swum without an adult present. This pattern continued year after year—swim class after swim class, beach trip after beach trip, and countless visits to family pools. He simply won’t swim, and it doesn’t appear to be a matter of him being stubborn, as we previously thought, or lacking adventurous spirit, as others suggested. Yes, he is strong-willed, but he has never resisted something quite like this. He is actually quite adventurous in other areas of his life—he enjoys making new friends, sampling exotic foods, attending various summer camps, and eagerly exploring the outdoors. Yet, when it comes to swimming, he draws the line.
With his sixth birthday just around the corner, we have plans to visit my brother in California, including a trip to a water park at the end of August. He must learn to swim. So, last night, my husband initiated their nightly trips to the YMCA pool. My son sat on the steps for a solid 45 minutes, listing every excuse for why he didn’t want to get in. Finally, he dipped his toes in and, to our surprise, started kicking his feet, attempting to swim.
As I tucked him into bed, he shared his experience, revealing his disappointment in taking so long to gather the courage to enter the pool. He expressed his fears about the water and his embarrassment at not being able to swim at almost six years old. I explained to him why it was essential to learn and reassured him that he only needed to do his best. I told him there was nothing to be embarrassed about as long as he tried. I reminded him that if he never attempts something, he will never discover his true potential. As we cuddled, he wrapped his arms around my neck and whispered, “I’ll just try harder tomorrow.”
Isn’t that the essence of life? All we can do is try harder tomorrow. As I lay with him, I reflected on the woman from the hospital years ago, who imparted a message that resonated deeply: If we don’t wish to swim—whatever that swimming represents—we need not dive in. However, if we never make the attempt, how will we know if we truly don’t want to? I hope my son embraces this lesson: to try new things, to be brave, and to understand that if, after giving it his all, he decides it’s not for him, that’s perfectly fine. It’s the act of trying that truly matters.
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In summary, teaching our children to face their fears and embrace new experiences is essential. It’s about taking that first step, trying harder, and discovering what we are truly capable of.
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