Dedication
To Mom and Dad: For believing in me and encouraging me to go solo.
To Jack and Meghan: I hope the pool was fun.
One of my earliest childhood memories is from a family vacation when I was twelve years old. The trip was built around a work conference my dad was attending in Florida. As part of the conference, they offered activities for the families and kids of attendees, and on one of the first nights, I remember going with my parents to the family session where they outlined all the offerings.
We went mostly out of curiosity. We didn’t know any other families attending, and we certainly didn’t plan to split up. Our intention was to spend the week together, swimming in the pool and just having fun in Florida. But as the presenter described the different programs, one offering caught my attention: an all-day kids’ excursion to Busch Gardens theme park in Tampa.
I had never been to a theme park or ridden a roller coaster. When I saw the presentation for this trip, something in me lit up – I wanted to go.
Back in the hotel room, I did my best to convince my brother and sister to join me.
No luck. “Go without knowing anyone? Are you crazy?” they said. I promised it would be awesome. No parents, just rides, games, and freedom. But they were firm: they were staying at the pool. So that was that. Or so I thought.
Then my parents did something that stunned me. They looked at me and said, “Well, Tommy, if you really want to do this, you could go it alone.” The bus would pick me up at 7 a.m. and bring me back at 6 p.m. They said it might be a great adventure, and maybe I’d even make some friends.
The fear of roller coasters suddenly felt small compared to the fear of going alone. My stomach turned at the thought. I remember my mom sitting beside me and saying, “You can do this.”
That simple vote of confidence was a turning point for me.
I signed up.
And the day was so good.
I replay it in my mind often: the freedom, the adventure, the laughter. I conquered The Python multiple times with new friends, played endless games, and returned to the hotel that evening beaming. Not only had I survived the day, it was more than that… I felt accomplished. Moreover, not once during the day did I feel alone. I had friends from the first moment, and the rest of the week, I had a crew of friends (and matching Busch Gardens T-shirts and inside jokes) to roam the conference with.
*****
At Wilderness Adventures, I often hear from nervous parents who ask if their child can handle a trip alone. Many say, “I just don’t think he could do it.” Or “she does not want to go alone.” And yet, every summer, about 70% of our campers do exactly that: they go solo.
I did it too at WA, years later as a teenager, and it left me feeling more confident and capable than ever.
Looking back, my parents had two things going for them when they nudged me toward that first solo adventure:
- They trusted the organization. They believed in the people running the program and knew other kids had come home with incredible stories.
- They believed in me. I hadn’t done anything like that before, and neither had they. But they trusted that I was capable of more than I realized.
- Deep down, they knew this would likely be good for me. As parents we all know that independence can be such a good thing for kids. My parents found a way to foster that in me.
The truth is, at twelve years old, I had no idea what I was capable of. When my parents gave me that nudge, they gave me something much bigger than a day at a theme park-they gave me belief.
****
That Busch Gardens day changed me in ways none of us could have known. It planted something deep inside, a quiet confidence that would carry me through every adventure that came after. When I think about it now, I realize how much of my life’s work has been shaped by that single moment: my mom’s words, my dad’s trust, and the chance to see who I could be when I stepped out alone.
I’ve built a career helping young people find that same spark, that same voice that whispers, You can do this. Every summer, I watch a new generation of kids step onto buses and planes, hearts pounding, wondering if they’re ready. I counsel parents who are nervous, wondering if they nudged their child in the wrong direction. And every summer, those kids return like I did from Busch Gardens, taller somehow, more confident, more alive. And the parents smile, knowing that in this moment, their parenting nudge had such a positive impact.
And when I see that look on their faces, the look of pride that only comes from doing something hard on their own, I think of my parents, sitting on the edge of that hotel bed in Florida, smiling, saying the words that changed everything.
“You can do this.”
