The debate about who should shape a young person’s career often sounds simple online, especially when a post declares that “parents cannot decide their children’s paths.” Such statements easily attract applause because they appeal to our desire for independence. But as I read one of these comments, something in me resisted the simplicity of that narrative. It felt too neat, too one-sided for a topic as layered as human destiny. So I stepped into the conversation, not to dismiss anyone’s views, but to widen the window through which we were all looking.
The truth is that no one can dictate another person’s passion or force a dream into their bloodstream. Yet it is equally true that many young people do not fully know what they want at the age when crucial academic decisions are made. Their passions shift with new experiences, changing environments, and the fragile self-image they are still building. Psychologists like Erik Erikson remind us that identity in adolescence is fluid, exploratory, and often unstable. A desire today may evaporate tomorrow, not because it was false, but because the child is still unfolding. That is precisely why guidance remains necessary.
Parents, when wise, act like mirrors that reflect the strengths their children have not yet recognized. Messi once recalled how Maradona looked him in the eye and told him he could become even greater than him. Sometimes we need people who can see our raw potential more clearly than we can. And this is why blindly dismissing parental involvement is unhelpful. Many people today are grateful for the course or career their parents suggested, and some will confess that left to their younger selves, they might have made choices driven by emotion, fantasy, or half-formed dreams. Just as some women later thank their parents for recommending a spouse they initially disliked, some adults look back and realize their parents were not trying to control them but to protect them from choices they were too inexperienced to evaluate.
Perspective shapes truth. If we asked adults today whether they would still choose the same course they studied in their youth, a surprising number would say no. Their interests evolved, their talents matured, and life introduced them to truths they had not known earlier. This does not mean their parents were wrong when they guided them; it may simply mean the child at that time was not yet capable of choosing with clarity. Sometimes what feels like pressure becomes, in hindsight, the structure that steadied an undecided heart. Influence itself can be a catalyst for growth. A child pushed to read law instead of French may discover strengths in language, argumentation, and analytical thinking they never imagined, not because law was better than French, but because human potential often blooms in unexpected soil.
Life is full of stories of redirected passion. A young man once dreamed endlessly of studying medicine, only to find himself, after multiple attempts, thriving in chemistry. Years later, he confessed that even if he were paid to return to medicine, he would decline because chemistry had become his intellectual home. He even questioned why a first-class graduate, celebrated as her university’s best student, would return to study medicine after achieving academic excellence elsewhere, perhaps a sign, he suggested, of poor guidance rather than ambition. These stories remind us that passion is not always discovered before the journey; sometimes, it is discovered along the way.
Parents who choose a child’s course often act from care, not cruelty, from fear of unstable futures, from concern about employability, from cultural expectations, or from their own scars and triumphs. Their decisions are rarely random. But forcing a child down a rigid path carries risks. Self-Determination Theory warns that motivation thrives on autonomy, competence, and connection. When autonomy is crushed, creativity withers, burnout creeps in, and identity becomes conflicted. Some young people suffer silently, feeling trapped in careers that never felt like home. Relationships between parents and children can even fracture under the weight of imposed choices.
Yet the story is not all dark. Parental direction can open doors to hidden strengths, resilience, and unexpected fulfillment. In many cultures, family-guided career paths have ensured stability for generations. What matters is not total control or total freedom, but the delicate dance between guidance and autonomy, the ability to listen, to negotiate, and to adjust as the child’s talents and desires become clearer. The most successful stories emerge from partnership, not dictatorship or abandonment.
A balanced future requires conversation, respect, information, and flexibility. Children need room to explore, to question, to fail, and to refine their dreams. Parents need to offer wisdom, structure, and perspective without suffocating curiosity. When both sides walk toward each other rather than away, career choice becomes not a battlefield but a shared journey, one where destiny is shaped not by force or rebellion, but by understanding, growth, and the quiet courage to evolve together.
Bagudu can be reached at bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or on 0703 494 3575.
