Ever since I can remember, I’ve been a rollercoaster enthusiast. The adrenaline rush, the heart-pounding excitement, and the sheer thrill of riding those towering steel behemoths have always been a source of immense joy for me.
I’ve visited countless amusement parks and ridden rollercoasters of all shapes and sizes. Naturally, when I became a parent, I couldn’t wait to share this passion with my daughter.
My daughter, Sarah, is now 12 years old. She’s a bright, creative, and independent young girl who’s always been cautious and analytical by nature.
While I had hoped she would inherit my love for rollercoasters, it became clear that she had a different perspective on these towering contraptions.
The Situation
The conflict between us began when I suggested a family trip to a popular amusement park, which was home to some of the most exhilarating rollercoasters in the region.
I was excited about the idea, and Sarah’s eyes widened with curiosity, sensing the excitement in my voice. But her enthusiasm soon waned as we discussed the prospect of riding the park’s most extreme coasters.
Attempt 1: The Gentle Persuasion
At first, I tried the gentle persuasion approach. I told her about the thrill of coasters, the adrenaline rush, and how they’re designed to be safe. I shared stories of my own adventures, hoping to ignite her interest. She seemed hesitant but agreed to give it a try.
The day arrived, and we stepped into the park. We started with some milder rides, and Sarah seemed to enjoy them. But when we reached the colossal rollercoasters, her anxiety skyrocketed.
As we stood in line for one of the more intense rides, Sarah’s face grew pale, and her hands trembled. She looked at me with tearful eyes and said, “Dad, I can’t do this. I’m too scared.”
Attempt 2: Tough Love
As a parent, I thought it was my responsibility to help her overcome her fears. I believed that pushing her a little was necessary for her personal growth and that she might eventually love rollercoasters as much as I did.
With this in mind, I decided to take a tough love approach. I told her that she could do it and that I would be right there with her, holding her hand.
But Sarah was resistant and, through tears, said she didn’t want to go through with it. I didn’t want her to miss out on the experience I cherished so much, and I genuinely thought that pushing her to face her fear was the right thing to do.
The Fallout
Our first rollercoaster attempt ended with Sarah crying and refusing to get on the ride. I felt torn between wanting to respect her feelings and wanting her to experience the excitement I loved so much.
We ended up not riding the rollercoaster that day, which left me disappointed. Over the next few months, I tried various tactics to persuade Sarah to give rollercoasters another chance.
I bought books about the science of rollercoasters, showed her videos of people having fun on them, and even invited some of her friends who enjoyed rollercoasters to share their experiences.
Yet, every attempt led to the same result: Sarah adamantly refusing to ride.
AITA (Am I the Asshole)?
Reflecting on the situation, I’m left wondering if I was the asshole for trying to push Sarah into riding rollercoasters when she clearly wasn’t comfortable with the idea.
On one hand, I genuinely believed that exposing her to new experiences and helping her conquer her fears was a positive thing. I wanted to share a part of my life that brought me immense joy and believed that she might eventually come to appreciate it as well.
However, on the other hand, I now understand that I may have been insensitive to Sarah’s feelings and fears. I should have respected her boundaries and not pushed her into something that caused her so much anxiety.
It’s crucial to remember that we all have different comfort zones, and what might be exhilarating to one person can be terrifying to another.
The question remains: AITA for forcing my daughter to ride rollercoasters?
While I had good intentions, it’s clear that I failed to respect Sarah’s feelings and boundaries, and I can’t help but wonder if I was in the wrong.
Ultimately, as a parent, my responsibility should be to nurture her individuality and choices, even if they differ from my own.