• My 12-year-old is pushing for more independence, and I'm learning to adjust.
• We've set clear rules and boundaries to balance freedom with safety.
• I'm letting go gradually, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Over the last couple of years, my 12-year-old has started pushing for greater independence. In the past couple of months, he's pushed harder than ever.

I expected it. He's entering adolescence, and, developmentally, it's normal for him to want to explore without his mom always around.

Even though it was expected, it still came as a shock to my system. How have I got a child who is old enough to do anything without me?

With his push for independence, have come a myriad of sit-down conversations about what he wants, what we are comfortable with, and what we deem safe and age-appropriate.

It's early days, but together with my husband, who very helpfully has always worked with young people, we've developed a plan that works for right now — a mix of guidelines, rules, and boundaries.

Walking home from school

For the last two years, our son has walked home from school. This was his first taste of independence. Before this started, I walked the route behind him, watching how he moved on the sidewalks and studying to make sure he safely crossed a couple of busy streets.

He did this for two years without a phone. I knew if he wasn't home by 3:55 p.m., then I'd go out looking for him.

This 10-minute walk was the springboard to further independence. If we could trust that he was road-safe and responsible, we could give him more independence later on.

Walking to the convenience store

Having built our trust by walking home from school, we then allowed him to walk to the convenience store down the road to either buy us things like milk and bread or to use his own money to get himself a treat.

This gave him yet another taste of freedom. When friends came over, we'd ask their parents for permission to walk to the shop. This gave them something to do together and got them off screens.

Wandering around the park

There is a lovely park a 10 minutes' walk down the road from our house. He used to walk through this park on his way home from school, so I knew he felt comfortable in it and knew his way around.

He often asks if he and his friends can go cycling, walking, or scootering around the park, and we've said a resounding yes.

In a world where technology dominates, I love that he wants to explore outside with his friends.

There are risks, as with any location, but I am willing to let him take them. We mitigate these risks by ensuring he has his phone and by downloading an app that lets us track his location in case of an emergency.

If he does get injured, he knows how to call me and how to ring emergency services.

There are things we can't do and places he can't go

While we have allowed him more freedom recently, I limit what he can do based on what I know about a particular area and the risks it presents.

At times, I can sense he feels resentment when his friends are allowed to do things he isn't. We remind him that all families are different.

Instead of just saying a blanket "no," we once again reconvene and explain why we, as his parents, have made this decision.

There are plenty of freedoms he'll be allowed in the coming years, but these will come with his maturity and our increased trust in his ability to make wise, safe decisions.

I feel like we're walking into a minefield that every other parent of a teenager who has gone before us has already walked in. And yet it feels like we are the first ones. We're just doing the best we know how, one conversation at a time.

• Dani Aravich is a 29-year-old Paralympian who grew up playing sports.
• After college, Dani was introduced to the possibility of competing in the Paralympics.
• She now competes for Team USA in the Paralympic Games in track and field and cross-country skiing.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation Dani Aravich, Paralympian and cofounder of Culxtured. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in Boise, Idaho, playing all the typical sports — soccer, basketball, softball — and eventually got recruited to a Division I school to compete in track and field.

After college, I worked for an NBA team. And while working there, I learned about the Paralympics for the very first time. It had never really been on my family's radar growing up, so it never felt like an option for me as a kid.

Learning about the Paralympics also meant being introduced to the disability community in a way I never had before. I hadn't grown up around many people with disabilities, and suddenly I was meeting all these athletes who, like me, had disabilities and were fiercely competitive in sport.

It was a little overwhelming at first, but also really exciting.

I started thinking about the Paralympic Games

I started diving into everything I could find about the Paralympics and eventually learned that I actually qualified for a classification.

That's when the dream began to form. Maybe I could make the Trials for the Tokyo 2020 Paralympic Games.

In 2019, I started running again, mostly training on my own while working full-time. I went to my first para track meet that year and met other women who were missing a hand or had arm impairments like mine. For the first time, it felt like I might truly be competing on an even playing field.

But that same day, I nearly walked away from it all.

I was running well until I fell on the track with 10 meters left in the race. I remember thinking maybe that was my sign to quit and go back to the traditional career path I had been on.

My mom — who had actually been hesitant about me stepping away from my business career in the first place — was the one who told me I had already put months of work into this goal. I owed it to myself to at least see it through and not let one fall end the dream.

So I kept going.

I decided to focus on Nordic skiing

Not long after that, I was invited to try Para cross-country skiing at a camp. I had downhill skied before, but cross-country skiing is a completely different sport.

In 2021, I competed in the T47 women's 400m at the Tokyo Paralympic Games (which were delayed a year because of COVID). Just six months later, I competed again at the Beijing 2022 Paralympic Winter Games.

After that, I made the decision to step away from track and focus fully on Nordic skiing, leading into the 2026 Paralympic Winter Games in Italy.

And here I am now.

The dream of becoming a Paralympian came much later in life for me than it does for a lot of athletes. Mostly because I didn't even know it existed growing up. I had never seen it in the media, never heard about it as a possibility.

This year, I've been in Europe since early January, first for the World Cup season, now the Paralympics.

One of the things that's made these Paralympics especially meaningful is being able to invite friends and family to come watch in person. Four years ago, that wasn't possible because of Covid restrictions.

I love seeing kids watch us race

For Nordic skiing, we're based in a tiny town in Italy, which is pretty remote from some of the other venues. But the town has completely embraced the Games. One of my favorite moments has been watching local school kids come out to watch us race.

And it really does feel like the Paralympics are growing.

More people are watching. The media is paying attention to the drama and intensity of the competition. Online engagement is growing. It finally feels like the world is starting to see these athletes the way we've always known them to be — elite.

Once people watch the Paralympics, they realize the competition is just as intense as the Olympics. And once they see that, they're hooked.

More broadly, I think society is shifting in a really positive direction when it comes to diversity and inclusion. Humanizing disability and making it something we talk about openly — rather than something hidden away — is incredibly important.

Not just for the Paralympics. But for society as a whole.