When the Whistle Stops: Adjusting to Freedom and Routine
"Athletes are wired for structure. Without it, freedom doesn’t always feel freeing — sometimes it feels overwhelming."
One of the biggest changes I’ve seen with my son since starting college hockey doesn’t even happen on the ice. It’s the in between. The space where, for the first time, no one is telling him what to do.
For years, every single day was mapped out: practice, workouts, games, travel, school built around hockey. Coaches told him where to be, what time to be there, and what to do when he got there. Honestly, there wasn’t much left for him to figure out.
Now? It’s wide open. Classes, practices, meals, friends, homework, rest - it’s all on him. And let’s just say… it hasn’t been smooth.
Why It’s Hard
Athletes are so used to structure that freedom feels almost foreign. It’s like they don’t know what to do with it.
And it’s not just my son - studies show 100% of student-athletes report some level of burnout or exhaustion from juggling school and sport. So when that built-in structure disappears, it’s no wonder that the freedom can feel overwhelming.
Skip one class? No one’s chasing them down.
Stay up too late? They’ll pay for it in the morning.
Too much downtime? They feel lost without being busy 24/7.
It’s not laziness. It’s learning. And it’s really hard for us, as parents, to watch from the sidelines.
The Dreams They Chase
Part of why this transition is so tough is because of the dreams that got them here.
Most kids who push to play at a high level have their eyes on something bigger - maybe making it to a Division I program, or even the NHL someday. That’s what fuels the early mornings, the long drives, and the sacrifices.
But the truth is, the odds are steep. Fewer than 2% of high school athletes make it to Division I hockey, and only about 0.2% of youth players ever reach the NHL. Even among those who play D-I, only around 32% of NHL players came through college hockey.
That doesn’t mean their efforts were wasted. Far from it. It means that even if the dream doesn’t play out exactly as they imagined, the lessons they’ve learned - discipline, resilience, teamwork - are theirs to carry forward.
What I’m Learning (as Mom)
My instinct is to fix it. To remind him of every deadline, every routine, every “right choice.” But the truth is - this is his to figure out.
So I’m trying to:
Point him back to what hockey taught him: discipline, consistency, showing up.
Cheer when he gets it right (even in small ways).
Bite my tongue when I want to jump in (so hard).
Remember that stumbling isn’t failing - it’s part of growing.
The Bigger Picture
Honestly? It’s messy. But it’s also kind of beautiful. Because this is where they learn. Not when we’re holding their hands, but when they’re trying, messing up, recalibrating, and trying again.
And maybe that’s our job now - not to run their schedule, not to cushion them from every bump, but to be their safe place when the freedom feels too big.
What about you? Have you watched your son or daughter struggle with freedom after years of structure? And how do you balance supporting them without stepping in too much?
- Alison