The Metaphor of the Retractable Leash

Last week I took my dog, Skye, on a walk using a retractable leash. It's the kind of leash that allows the dog about 15 feet of freedom at its full length but retracts within the handle so it has no slack when she comes closer. It also has a lock button that allows me to control whether she is close to me or the full 15 feet away. Anytime she gets to the limit of the leash, it tugs a little on her and a little on me so we both know we have to get a little closer to each other.

The past few weeks it's been really snowy where I live. The snow has been piled up on either side of the road and sidewalks. The sidewalk on the way to the dog park has been so covered in snow that I typically just walk along the road. 

Keeping Skye safe has become challenging because of the retractable leash. We only have about five feet before she is in the lane of the road, so I've had to lock it at 5 feet. She doesn't love it; but that was the only safe option, so I've been firm with her.

The retractable leash reminds me of parenting my teenagers. Depending on the teen's age and my comfort level, I allow my teens a certain amount of freedom to roam. I set boundaries and expectations, do my best to instill as much confidence in my teens as possible, and give them space to make mistakes. 

But both of us know that when they have reached the end of the boundary, there will be a tug from my side as a reminder that we need to come closer together. 

I teach my kids that as they seek responsibility, independence will follow. It doesn't work the other way around. If boundaries are crossed, I lock the leash briefly, then let it out again as they prove to be more trustworthy.

In again, out again. Kind of like a dance. But over time, a gradual decrease of parental involvement and an increase of freedom and allowing natural consequences to fall. Because unlike my dog Skye, who will always require my intervention to keep her safe, my teens are getting smarter and more capable every day.