Parents, you’ve got questions, we’ve got answers.

Or just as likely, we’ve got questions and you’ve got answers.

Challenge: Open Discussion

The gut wrench and blessing of raising a fearless daughter

Vote up!
Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Email this article



That is my daughter’s middle name. My middle name is worry. She knows what it means to ‘fear not,’ while I know even more what it means to ‘fear.’


Kahrin will be 22 in a few weeks, and I’m 49. Do you see the juxtaposition here? My kid is barely an adult and already gets it, and I’m pushing five decades and still don’t...know how to TRUST.

I could throw the mom card and argue my case by saying:

“It’s so easy to be fearless at 21 when you don’t have many responsibilities in life.”

“It’s so easy to be brave when you haven’t experienced the monumental heart tug of having children in this complicated world.”

“It’s so easy to seek adventure and pursue your heart’s desires when you are young and carefree.”

But, that’s pretty much a cop-out. Whether we are 21, 49, or 76, living a fearless life is a choice. I think we all have it in us deep down in our soul space. The question is, how many layers do we need to peel back before we find such strength? How far down do we need to scale before we have the guts to follow our heart and dreams?

The only job we have for the most part is to enjoy our time here, soak in the goodness all around us, and spend our days sharing these experiences with others in a spirit of love and service.


So easy in theory, yet so stinking hard in real time, especially the older we get. If we could only have "the faith of a child before the world gets in" (lyric via the Killers’ Wonderful Wonderful, which is a gorgeous and heart-wrenching song btw).

This is why I’m so grateful for this wanderlust daughter of mine. She is currently in the midst of a 14-day bike trip covering 639 miles. Did I mention the route is 99% on trafficked streets, roads, and highways? How about that she has zero experience biking (especially not with saddle bags), and hasn’t logged one mile on the bike she just purchased days before the trip?

So, yeah, she’s fearless.

And I’ve got a choice to make. I can either breathe into a brown bag for 14 days and basically check out of life by being consumed with worry and dread, OR (listen closely to yourself, Shelby Spear) I can wake up each morning full of excitement for my kid. Eagerly anticipating the next story from her wild and free adventure—all while filled with awe, crazy mom pride, and mad respect. Maybe even build up a resolve to do something rad myself one day...

I plan on choosing the latter. Although, I can’t promise myself I’ll be perfect at it. I did buy a Costco-sized bag of paper sacks just in case. Don’t even talk to me about manifesting my destiny.

To being fearless 👊🏻👊🏻👊🏻



This post comes from the TODAY Parenting Team community, where all members are welcome to post and discuss parenting solutions. Learn more and join us! Because we're all in this together.