A soccer mom’s perspective on nurturing your child’s competitive spirit without fueling it through comparison
A young boy, 4 years old, had a passion for soccer. He would run up and down the field as if his life depended upon it. He released all the energy bottled up inside and let it pour out onto the field with every stride. There were no drink breaks or time outs. His feet and speed were his weapons and his heart was his guide. He didn’t see obstacles or size. All he saw was jersey colors and the ball. It was on that field, a competitive spirit was born.
That was the case for my son Axton, and he has been competing ever since. Whether he’s racing from the storefront to the car, folding laundry with precision, solving math problems in his head, or giving his all on the field—Axton approaches everything with the heart of a competitor.
I often sit back and marvel at his competitive spirit and wonder how to best foster it as his mother. This exact thought has crossed my mind many times over. Throughout my thinking – and let’s be honest, sometimes overthinking – the idea of competition versus comparison has emerged.
As a child, and into my adulthood, I struggled internally with the spirit of comparison. I often found myself, whether it be in sports, in the classroom or in life, comparing myself to any and everyone around me. This spirit would spark and grow in social settings to the point of creating anxiety, fear, and sometimes failure.
So what is the difference between competing and comparing?
And how can I nurture my child’s competitive spirit without fueling it through comparison?
I started watching my son. In second grade, Axton had weekly or bi-weekly spelling bees. Unbeknownst to me, he won the first two. He never said a word to me, simply competed and won. I knew, because of his older sister, spelling bees were part of their curriculum, but I hadn’t asked about them and he hadn’t offered the information up either. However, towards the end of the school year, the time came to compete in the BIG spelling bee where all the winners of the weekly/bi-weekly bees competed to become the ultimate speller. Axton came home with a packet of words. When I tell you the kid didn’t put it down, I mean he did not put it down. When we drove to school, I was quizzing him. When he was juggling his soccer ball, when he was in the bathtub, before bed, during dinner, you name it. The kid was spelling words like crazy.
When it came time to compete, he stood up there, with the other winners, and smiled and waved out to me. His dad, stepdad, Gigi, and siblings and I, all sat in the crowd watching him with pride. He competed his heart out. He knew those words. He made it through about four times, and on his fifth time through, he misspelled a word. A word he knew, but misheard. He was out. He hung his head, cried several tears, and then sat down. We sat there and finished watching the remainder of the spelling bee. I was already so proud of my son for working so hard to make it as far as he had.
Before walking out of the classroom, I saw Axton walk off and away. I followed him with my eyes to see where he was going. I saw him walk up several bleachers and sit down next to another young boy, physically upset and crying. Axton put his arms around the boy, hugged him, patted his back, said “good job,” and then walked back to his position standing next to me. It was at that moment that something clicked for me.
Preparing for that spelling bee was just as, if not more, important for Axton, then actually competing in it. Yes he wanted to win, and yes he was devastated by losing. But what I saw in the preparation, in the studying, was the same competitive spirit I saw in the 4-year-old on that soccer field. Axton wasn’t in competition with anyone but himself. I think that is what began the trajectory of my thought process.
Comparison is an easy trap.
Looking at those around us and what they have or achieve can create envy and resentment that actually stifles competition. Trust me, I allowed those same feelings to take root in my life as an adolescent and even into my adulthood. Those feelings can show up in friendships, relationships, and even in self talk. Constantly comparing myself to others, wondering how I “measure up.” I was so focused on the “one ups” and “don’t haves” that I was missing the beauty behind competition, and life.
When you think about life, competition in itself can be healthy. Friendly competition within the workplace can encourage self reflection and growth. Spelling bees or math fact races can create and foster a love for learning through competition. Competition can be the fuel to skills in leadership, teamwork, discipline, confidence, and even stress management, if children are taught to compete and not compare.
So how do we do this as parents?
Don’t compare our kids to other kids.
It is so easy for us parents to compare our children to other children. For me, I found myself comparing my children to their siblings. No two children are the same. They each have a different set of skills, starting at different levels. Recognizing your child’s strengths and areas of growth, but not how they “match up” with others, is a great starting point. Doing so, can smother the comparison spirit.
Set goals together.
Axton isn’t a great juggler when it comes to soccer. (That’s when a player keeps the ball in the air with their feet without letting it touch the ground.) But he aspires to be. He knows there are other kids on his team that can juggle circles around him. But he doesn’t allow that to intimidate or discourage him. Every single day he sets a goal for himself. “Mommy, I will juggle 20 times.” And every night he picks up his soccer ball and works for hours to accomplish said goal. If he tires out, he tries again the next day. The goals he is setting for himself, is driving his competitive spirit within himself. That same competitiveness will translate onto the field in a real game. He will have insight to his own skills and strengths and how he can help his team, rather than focusing on where he may be behind his teammates.
Celebrate everything.
Competing isn’t about winning. It can be the worst game ever. The car ride home is not a time to compare him to others or to harp on his mistakes. Those conversations can cause resentment and lessen a child’s love for the game. The car ride is a time to find a celebration moment and to celebrate it. Whether it be an awesome foot skill or a great pass. Focus on celebrating first, and then get back to the grind.
As always, let me be clear, I am just a mom trying to make it, y’all. I do not have all the answers nor can I offer magical solutions. I can only speak on my own life and experiences. But as I navigate through these moments, I think it is important to share. Parenting is hard and unfortunately as soon as we think we have it figured out, we have another kid who changes everything you thought to be true.
But the best part about parenting is the learning.