How stepping back as a parent builds trust, confidence, and emotional safety
Celebrating her Clemson acceptance — and the resilience behind it
Yesterday, Makay opened her Clemson portal and saw one word: Accepted.
I don’t think either of us breathed before we screamed, hugged, and cried.
Clemson has a 38% acceptance rate — and this girl earned every bit of it.
But what people see on the surface —the 100.38 GPA, the top-22 class rank, the athletics —is only a fraction of her story.
Makay has fought through:
three reconstructive knee surgeries
a broken ankle
a major ankle injury
a broken arm
a fractured foot
reconstructive finger surgery
fifty stitches to a face injury
Most kids would have stopped. Most adults would have stopped.
But not Makay.
She kept going.
With grace.
With grit.
With joy.
And Clemson didn’t just accept a student —they accepted a survivor with a soft heart.
Excerpt from
Naive Perceptions —
Chapter 15: Makay
Makay came into the world carrying something ancient in her eyes, something that didn’t match her tiny body. She was an old soul from the beginning — intuitive, gentle, and quietly wise in ways most adults never become. She didn’t just enter rooms; she brightened them.
I saw myself in her — not the wounded adult me, but the little girl I once was before life taught me to fold myself small. So I gave Makay freedom. I let her climb, wander, explore, and be messy and bold because I wanted her to have what I never had — space.
But motherhood reveals patterns gently at first… and then all at once. I didn’t see it happening, but I began to place small pieces of control on her — the kind of control that had been placed on me. It wasn’t until Daylin pointed it out that I realized I was confusing control with safety.
Makay didn’t need shaping. She needed witnessing. She needed trust.
When I stepped back, she bloomed in ways I never could have designed. Her kindness became her compass. Her courage became her voice. She had a way of offering love that made people feel at home, even in their hardest moments.
Makay taught me to soften. She taught me to breathe. She taught me that freedom is a form of love — and that confidence, true confidence, is carried quietly, not performed.
She is loved more than she will ever know. And she has always been one of the brightest parts of my story.
What Makay’s Journey Teaches Us
(Teach • Coach • Parent)
TEACH — “Your presence can rewrite a child’s story.”
Makay flourished when I trusted her instead of trying to shape her.
Teaching is about seeing the child, not controlling the outcome.
COACH — “Leadership is steady, not reactive.”
Her injuries built resilience, not fear. She reminded us that confidence grows through setbacks, not perfection.
PARENT — “Your healing becomes their safety.”
Makay taught me that freedom is a form of love. That stepping back is sometimes the greatest way to show up.
Closing Thoughts
Clemson didn’t just accept a high-achieving student. They accepted a young woman who has spent her whole life rising — again and again.
We couldn’t be more proud.She led the way. 🧡💙
Want more stories like this?
Follow @TeachCoachParent for reflections on:
✔ resilience
✔ parenting
✔ healing
✔ youth sports
✔ breaking cycles —— one generation at a time
And stay tuned for my book, Naive Perceptions, coming soon.
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