The "Living Through Them" Trap

dr. Kristijan Musek Lešnik
Oct 20, 2025
3 min read

The trap is sneaky because it feels like encouragement. You’re not saying, “Be me.” You’re saying, “Be the version of me I never got to be.” Which, to a teenager, translates as: “You don’t get to be you.”

“Forcing them to live your dreams because yours came with bad lighting? They don’t want to be the star of your comeback tour. Spotting and nurturing their actual passions is the key.”

Every parent has unfinished business: the piano lessons abandoned, the varsity tryouts missed, the dream job that never materialized. Then comes your teenager — fresh, capable, full of possibility — and suddenly you’re imagining their life as the sequel to yours.

Mistake: Forcing them into sports, careers, or hobbies you secretly wanted.

THE ISSUE

Picture it: Your 16-year-old casually mentions enjoying choir practice. Two weeks later, you’ve:

Booked them voice lessons twice a week.
Signed them up for regional competitions.
Begun dropping “future Broadway star” into conversations at work.
Googled “best conservatories” even though they can’t yet drive to rehearsal on their own.

This is how it starts. What was once their “mild curiosity” morphs into your full-blown production. Suddenly they’re starring in a show they never auditioned for.

WHY PARENTS DO THIS

The urge is universal, and we do it because of:

Unfinished business. You want them to finish what you started.
Pride projection. Their success = your second chance to brag.
Fear of regret. You’re terrified they’ll someday say, “Why didn’t you push me harder?”
Misreading signals. A doodle becomes “future Pixar animator.”

It’s not malice — it’s nostalgia dressed up as parenting.

HOW THIS HARMS TEENS (AND PARENTS)

Why does steering teenagers towards paths shaped by our own regrets and missed opportunities often backfire?

It erases their identity. They’re figuring out who they are, not who you wished you were.
It builds resentment. Teens hate directors, especially when it’s their parents.
It damages self-esteem. If they fail at your dream, they feel they’ve failed you.
It delays self-discovery. Some don’t realize they’re on the wrong path until college.
It weakens trust. Why share new interests if you’ll just overwrite them?

The subtle harm: they stop feeling like the main character in their own story.

AVOIDING THE TRAP

It's not about abandoning the belief in the potential of our teenagers, which they might not yet recognize. It's about finding a balance between our aspirations for their future and their right to choose their own paths and dreams.

Be Honest with Yourself. Ask: Is this about them, or me? If your nostalgia is louder than their enthusiasm, step back.
Watch for Passion Signals. Do they practice without being asked? Talk about it unprompted? Seek out more on their own? That’s passion.
Offer Exposure, Not Pressure. It’s fine to introduce them to something you love. But “want to try?” lands better than “you start Monday.”
Celebrate Even If You Don’t Get It. You don’t have to understand Minecraft marathons or TikTok dances. Respect is enough.
Support the Skill, Not Just the Activity. Dropped soccer? They still learned teamwork. Quit piano? They gained discipline. Show them quitting doesn’t erase growth.
Keep Your Own Dreams Alive. Don’t outsource your dream. Pursue it yourself — take that class, run that 5K, join the theater group. Teens respect that.
Applaud Their “No”. Saying “This isn’t for me” is part of identity formation. Celebrate it as much as the yes.
Share Your Own Story Honestly. Tell them what you wish you’d done differently, but as a confession — not a script they must follow.

MISTAKES TO AVOID

Guilt-tripping them with, “When I was your age, I would’ve killed for this.”
Treating hobbies like résumé padding.
Confusing mild curiosity with destiny.
Using their passions as bragging material for yourself.

THE PAYOFF

When you step back:

They trust you as an ally, not a puppeteer.
They explore with energy, not resentment.
They learn to own their identity, mistakes included.

And when they succeed at something they chose, the pride you feel is bigger and more genuine than any vicarious victory could ever be.

(Remember: You’re not the director of their reality show. As a parent your job is to be the loyal fan in the front row — cheering, clapping, and letting the story unfold unscripted.)