Fear Of Water
My daughter, Sequoia, is afraid of water; she always has been. When we arrived in Australia a few months ago, many people told us, "you'll have to send her to swimming lessons; you can't live in Australia without knowing how to swim."
I couldn't understand this mentality; obviously swimming is a big part of Australian culture, but I felt that doesn't mean that I should be forcing my daughter to do something that terrifies her.
Sequoia mentioned, when she was about three, that she has memories of drowning. That helped me to understand a bit more why she is so terrified of water. Though it is hard, I manage to step back and trust that she will work it out in her own time.
Being Afraid
I believe children need to learn to overcome their fears, but they are often taught in a way that belittles them; makes them feel that their fears are "dumb" and therefore that they are "dumb" for having those fears. We say "oh, don't be silly; there's nothing to be afraid of," "I'm right here to catch you," "there's no monster under your bed."
Sometimes, when Sequoia is watching a movie, there's a part that scares her. She cries to me to come and hold her hand while she's watching the 'scary part.'
My response is usually - "Well, if it's so scary for you, just press the forward button and skip over it."
But she doesn't want to skip the scary parts; she wants to watch them, though it frightens her. She wants to experience the fear and deal with it on her own.
No logical argument can convince her that she doesn't need to be frightened. There is no sense in telling her not to expose herself to things that scare her.
I believe that my daughter knows that what she has to do is face her fear. She knows this instinctively, though she may not be able to express it.
Still, she's a four-year-old; she wants to feel safe and supported while she faces her fears. Sequoia knows the best way to do that is having me sit with her and hold her hand when the scary parts are on.
Fear Of Swimming
We recently moved into a home with a swimming pool in the garden. Sequoia always sat on the top step of the pool, dangling her feet in the water very happily, but never going any deeper. The other neighbourhood children were all having a great time jumping in and swimming around.
Sequoia wanted to join in, but her fear of the water was just too great: every time she got splashed, she'd run out of the pool, crying hysterically for a towel.
I struggled with the urge to coax her into the water with logical arguments like, "you've got the floaters on, so you'll be fine," "all the other kids are swimming," and worst of all, "there's nothing to be afraid of."
Ultimately, I managed to respect her space and let her go through it at her own pace. I spent a lot of time sitting with her on the step, not saying anything; just being near her, enjoying the water at our ankles.
Over a few weeks, she slowly progressed from the top step to the second step, so she could sit in the water at waist depth and wade around on the steps. Even with the help of float-rings, she wouldn't leave the steps, and it was challenging to support her in going onto the float-ring without pushing her too hard.
She would get all decked out in water-wings, float-ring and life jacket, and still be too afraid to go in deeper than the third step - thigh-deep for her.
One day, Sequoia was in the pool with her best friend. Both of them were in float-rings, Sequoia was sitting on the third step where she could stand at waist-depth while her friend had struck out for the deep end, happily buoyant with the floater.
Sequoia wanted to let go of her fear, I could see that she was ready to move through it, and she said that she really wanted to start swimming, but she was too afraid. I came over to hold her hand, and show her that I was supporting her.
Three times she started to jump off the third step, into water that is over her head, but each time, she cried out, frightened. I got her to look into my eyes, and told her that she's very safe, and I'm here with her, and that it's okay if she doesn't go into the water. She replied that she did want to go in the water to swim with her friend. I asked her if she wants me to hold her hand and pull her into the deep water. She agreed, so I walked around the edge of the pool, pulling her behind me.
Straight away, she started to protest, but I kept going, ready to turn back and pull her out of the water to comfort her if she showed any sign of being overwhelmed. It was clearly a challenge for her to remain calm; she was breathing heavily and squealing softly, but I kept going. Sequoia just looked at me, and made a palpable effort to face her fear.
Success
Within ten seconds we reached the deepest part of the pool. Though she was still processing her fear, Sequoia was coping well, so I gently let go of her hand, and nudged her away from the edge of the pool a bit.
Finding herself suddenly floating right in the middle of the deepest part of the pool, the fear started to catch up with her; she was beginning to hyperventilate. Suddenly, she looked around, and exclaimed, "I'm fine, I'm Fine, I'm FINE!"
Fear turned to excitement, and soon Sequoia was kicking and swimming around, learning to move in the water. Over the next few weeks, she made amazing progress in the water; swapping the ring floater for water wings, and experimenting with swimming on her own, without any floaters!
If I would have forced my daughter to get into the water from the beginning, she might have gotten over the fear sooner, but not without feeling that she was wrong to have that fear in the first place. Now she is moving through her fear, she knows it is because she faced it on her own, and she knows that I am there to support her in anything she tries to do.