Family Gets the Time We Choose

Hi {{ first_name | friend }},

In 2010, I left for college in Montreal at the age of seventeen and a half. For the next four years, I adapted to a new country and culture, miles away from my family for the first time in my life, while I grew from a child into an adult. Being so far from everything familiar, I created a different life, one where my family was on the other end of a phone call.

My brother was starting high school then, and my sister was starting middle school. When I called home, I talked to my parents first and foremost, and every so often to my brother. My sister and I are seven years apart, so I didn't think my classes, student clubs, and parties would mean much to her. I only connected with her when I came back home.

After I graduated from McGill, and before I returned to Montreal to start at Deloitte, my sister, now in high school, was very honest with me:

I was stunned, and hearing her say it so plainly made me sad. All those years, I had believed I wasn't really important to her, and that our relationship would be fine because we were related. My assumption had hurt someone I genuinely loved, and that broke my heart. I was also impressed she had the clarity and courage to say it to me.

I hugged her and committed to calling her directly as I started my career. About a year later, when her school year ended, she came to Montreal on her own to spend time with me. I showed her my new world, and we bonded, only the two of us, without our parents or our brother around. It became our end-of-school-year tradition until she finished high school. In 2019, we summited Kilimanjaro together.

This summer in Quogue, my whole family played tennis together, and headed to the beach as a group. Someone reminded me how beautiful it was to see us on the court, and someone else made a similar remark at the beach. My parents built this time together into our lives from the start, and they keep choosing it.

During the same period, I took on a 30-day yoga challenge, with classes guided on YouTube and rarely longer than 30 minutes. My parents accepted my invitations to join me on some early Sunday mornings and late Tuesday evenings. The three of us flowed on our mats almost in sync, reconnecting with our breath and slowing down together. "I should do this more often; it feels good," my dad said once. My mom told me, "I like sharing these moments with you," as we hugged at the end of a session.

A few weeks ago, my dad shipped me a custom wood cutting board with a card. I didn't understand the "18%" he had engraved on it until I read his letter: the time you spend with your kids before they turn 18 is 82% of all the time you'll ever spend with them, and after that, you get 18%.

It's a metric my dad repeats to us often now that my siblings and I are adults. He engraved it to remind me we're at the tail end, and that the 18% we have left can be as impactful as the 82% we've already shared, or even more, because quality is often more impactful than quantity.

It echoed a group conversation this summer with Hari Nair, founder of Leela Life. I heard deep relationships with adult children are one of the five big challenges of successful people.

A CISO I spoke with sees it again and again among the leaders he knows: family is the priority, and the calendar has no time for it. Another CISO remembers the days he'd flip burgers with one eye on the barbecue and the other on his laptop. One of my clients made sure they were around and available, in case their kid needed them. Another wanted more time with their kid and held back, so they wouldn't pull them away from their own plans.

Through our work together, the switch for my clients who are parents happened in steps. We started by reprogramming the subconscious belief driving their behavior, "It's selfish to put myself first, before my kids," into "I get to take care of myself first, so that I can be present for others." From there, we released the guilt of being a bad parent, or one who falls short.

Instead of asking themselves "What might my kid want?" I invited them to reframe the question:

They stopped guessing and chose the moments they wanted to create with their child.

One client rearranged their priorities and their schedule, and put their phone down. By prioritizing their own health, they spend more time with their kids and are present for it. Another told me their kids now come to them on their own, to connect and talk, which may be a sign they feel more comfortable doing it.

See you Saturday.

Victoria Grandury
CEO & Founder, Limitless Rebel
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