In 2023 while hiking Mt. Elbert with my daughter, I learned about the cruel nature of false summits.
From the trail head, we could see what looked like the peak glinting in the sun. Every muscle in our legs burned to reach it. Each switchback felt like progress toward that shining goal. We finally crested that ridge. Our chests were heaving, and our hearts were hopeful. Yet, we stood not on the true summit but on a shoulder of the mountain. Ahead of us rose the actual peak, taller and farther than we had imagined.
False summits have a way of humbling you; and if you’re not careful…breaking you.
But what makes them so disorienting is that they look so real.
Lately, I’ve felt that same vertigo. Not on a mountain trail, but on the trail of fatherhood. Specifically, in the way others perceive how I parent my children.
The Noise on the Trail
There are people who talk about my parenting who have never set foot on the trail with me. They’ve never sat at my kitchen table. They haven’t walked beside me through a sleepless night of worry. They have never shared a quiet moment watching my daughters giggle over breakfast. Or participating in conversations about balancing commitments.
And yet, they have opinions.
Sometimes those opinions come dressed up as concern. Other times they come sharpened as accusations.
But they almost never come from experience.
Instead, they come from hearsay, from third-party statements; stories carried by wind like gossip through an aspen grove. Stories stripped of context, colored by someone else’s paintbrush.
And I’ll admit, it’s hard not to stumble when raising kids in a complicated world. You’re trying to walk steady through the wilderness. The voices echoing around you keep telling you you’re on the wrong trail.
False narratives, like false summits, have a way of distorting the climb.
When Perception Becomes a Peak
When expectations and assumptions of others begin to feel like the measure of your worth, it’s easy to lose sight of the actual goal. It’s important to focus on what truly matters.
You start chasing their approval rather than your children’s trust.
You start defending yourself rather than reflecting on yourself.
You start summiting their peak rather than your own.
And here’s the danger: If you let their false summit define you, you might actually plant your flag there. In doing so, you could miss the true summit entirely.
Research in social psychology shows that perceived judgment from others can trigger self-doubt, defensiveness, and even burnout in parents. The danger of a false summit isn’t just disappointment. It’s a distraction.
Staying True to the Trail
On this trail, you don’t need to prove yourself by racing to someone else’s peak.
The climb is yours.
The summit is yours.
Walk steady, one honest step at a time.
When I think back to that hike, what helped me push through after the false summit wasn’t grit so much as guidance.
I pulled out my map. I checked my compass (All Trails GPS). I reminded myself of the truth of where I was and where I was headed.
It’s the same here.
If I want to raise my sons and daughters in a way that’s rooted in love and presence, I can’t let others’ misconceptions set my course.
Instead, I have to align myself with what’s real…what is true. Like a hiker does with a map and compass, like a Christian does with Scripture and spiritual discipline, like a father does with patience and self-reflection.
The Map: What’s Real
There’s a temptation to believe that perception is reality. That what people say about you is who you are.
But that’s not true.
What’s real is not what someone outside my home thinks about my parenting; it’s how my sons and daughters feel when they’re with me.
It’s the way they lean into my chest when while watching movies.
It’s the way they light up when I show up for their school event.
It’s the way they hold my hand in public without hesitation.
It’s the way they roll their eyes when I tell a bad joke, but can’t quite hide their smile.
That’s real.
Brené Brown reminds us, “You either walk inside your story and own it, or you stand outside your story and hustle for your worthiness” (p. 23).
When others’ narratives swirl like clouds, I remind myself: look at the map. Look at what’s true.
The Compass: What’s Right
If the map tells me what’s real, the compass tells me what’s right.
Fatherhood is messy and complex, full of competing values and imperfect moments.
But, when I quiet the noise and I let my internal compass settle. The needle always points in the same direction: lead and love them well.
That means showing up even when they push me away.
That means holding boundaries even when they cry.
That means teaching them what integrity looks like even when the world around us doesn’t.
As Dan Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson in No-Drama Discipline explain, “When we show up and are present – even when it’s hard – we give our kids what they need most: our attunement and attention” (p. 46).
The compass doesn’t always point toward what’s easy or what earns applause. But it keeps me from wandering off into someone else’s idea of who I should be.
The Discipline of the Climb
And then there’s the discipline; the steady, spiritual work of walking the trail day after day.
A hiker doesn’t reach the summit because he once read the map.
A believer doesn’t grow closer to God because she once opened her Bible.
And a father doesn’t raise healthy, whole-hearted kids because he once decided to love them.
The discipline is in the daily; small steps, quiet prayers, patient corrections, and gentle forgiveness.
Dr. James Dobson emphasizes in The New Strong-Willed Child that “children thrive best when parents are consistent, firm, and loving” (p. 58).
When the false summit rises before me and whispers that I’ve arrived; or shouts that I’ll never make it to the top…the discipline keeps me moving.
One more switchback. One more step. One more deep breath.
When False Summits Don’t Shake You
Here’s what I’ve learned: False summits are inevitable.
On a mountain, you’re bound to encounter ridges that look like peaks. In parenting, you’re bound to encounter people who think they know better. But neither has the power to define your destination.
The only way a false summit can knock you off course is if you forget what’s real, lose sight of what’s right, or stop moving forward. But if you stay aligned; keep checking your map, following your compass, and walking with steady discipline…the false summits lose their sway.
You can crest the ridge, see the next climb, and smile anyway.
Because you know the summit is still ahead…and it’s yours.
A Word to Fellow Climbers
If you’re reading this and feeling the weight of others’ expectations, let me tell you: you’re not alone.
There will always be people who think they know your trail better than you do.
There will always be voices telling you you’re too slow, too soft, too strict, too indulgent.
And there will always be false summits promising easy validation at the cost of your own integrity.
But none of them can carry your pack.
None of them can walk your miles.
None of them can raise your children.
That’s your climb.
So keep your eyes on the true peak.
Keep your heart rooted in what’s real.
Keep your steps aligned with what’s right.
When you reach your summit (and you will) you’ll know you didn’t climb for them.
You climbed for the ones who matter most. And you climbed for the One who put this mountain under your feet.
Reflection for the Trail
Before you put this down, pause for a moment and reflect:
- Where have you let others’ expectations set your pace, change your route, or define your goal?
- What “false summits” have you mistaken for your true destination?
- What does your map say is real?
- Where does your compass point?
- And what’s the next step you can take today to walk in alignment with your own climb?
Write it down if you can. Whisper it in prayer if you’d rather. But name it.
Because on this trail, you don’t need to prove yourself by racing to someone else’s peak.
The climb is yours.
The summit is yours.
Walk steady, one honest step at a time.
I’ll see you on the trail.
If you found this helpful, you may also appreciate my earlier reflection on resilience: “Between the Ridges: Building Resilience in Ourselves and Our Children”.
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