Freedom: A Tug-of-War

by Michael Zaky, MA Clinical Psychology.

Imagine a young boy by the lakeside, filled with excitement as he learns to fish with his uncle. It’s his first time casting a line, feeling the tug of the fish beneath the water, thrilled by the connection, the give-and-take, the rhythm of something pulling back. His uncle watches closely, offering well-meaning instructions: “Hold the line this way,” “Reel it in just right.” But the boy, lost in his own world, is more concerned with the experience itself than the technique. He isn’t worried about reeling it in perfectly; he’s captivated by the sheer joy of discovering something new.

Yet, as his uncle’s advice grows more insistent, the boy’s joy begins to fade. What started as a moment of pure discovery begins to feel weighed down by pressure. His uncle’s constant corrections imply that his way—the boy’s way—isn’t enough. And so, the experience shifts from one of joy and freedom to one of frustration, as the child feels his own instincts overshadowed. What could have been a memory of wonder becomes tainted, a reminder of expectations imposed before he even had the chance to try.

This dynamic isn’t unique to fishing. It plays out in countless relationships—with family, friends, and even partners. Often, one person believes they know best, thinking they’re steering their loved one in the right direction. They guide, instruct, and correct, all from a place of good intention. But in doing so, they unintentionally stifle the other’s journey, dampening their instinctive curiosity and the joy of learning on their own terms. The control, though well-meaning, leaves little room for exploration, creating an unspoken pressure to conform rather than to simply be.

Now, imagine a different approach: the uncle, watching his nephew with quiet encouragement, simply taking in the boy’s excitement. He doesn’t rush to correct but instead offers gentle support, noticing the child’s laughter and asking, “How does it feel, playing tug-of-war with the fish?” He might add, “I like how you’re reeling it in, moving with the line.” In this approach, the uncle’s focus shifts from correcting to encouraging, from instructing to noticing. He allows the child to immerse himself in the experience, giving him the freedom to explore without fear of making mistakes.

This kind of support is equally powerful in parenting or any relationship where one person hopes to guide another. Instead of offering constant corrections, they might give gentle feedback that builds on what is already working. “I see you’re really focused on that—nice work,” or, “I love how you’re tackling this in your own way.” By highlighting the strengths and celebrating the child’s unique approach, the parent reinforces positive behaviors naturally, rather than drawing attention to the “wrongs.”

Such guidance transforms the experience. The child is free to explore, to learn by doing, without the weight of someone else’s expectations. And when he achieves something—whether catching a fish or solving a problem on his own—it’s a genuine victory, a moment of shared joy rather than relief. It becomes a memory to celebrate, a bond strengthened not by control but by trust.

In these moments, learning becomes something joyful and natural, unburdened by fear of judgment. Encouragement rooted in curiosity and acceptance creates a space where exploration is not only allowed but welcomed. It’s a reminder that the best guidance sometimes comes not from telling someone what to do but by stepping back and letting them find their way. Through gentle support, we honor their journey, empowering them to learn, grow, and thrive in their own unique way.

by Michael Zaky, MA Clinical Psychology