Climbing Scafell Pike and Letting Go of Assumptions

A few weeks ago, I climbed Scafell Pike, England's highest mountain, with my family. It was a beautiful day in the Lake District, the kind that makes you feel briefly invincible. My twelve-year-old daughter set off with boundless energy and excitement.

About an hour in, she began to flag.

And I defaulted, almost instantly, into what I now recognise as my slightly irritated support mode. "Come on, you've got this." "We're a team, you can't stop now." Well-intentioned, yes. Helpful? Not remotely. It seemed to make things worse. Eventually, someone else stepped in quietly, and I backed off.

Hours later, on the descent, the tables turned completely.

My legs were aching. I was slipping on the loose ground. I was the one struggling. And my daughter, now recovered, buoyant, full of energy again, came running back down to me.

She did not cheerlead. She did not push. She asked, quietly: "Are you okay? Do you want some help? Shall we take a little rest? I'll wait."

She stayed beside me. Calm, patient, just present. Not fixing. Not rushing. Just there.

And in that moment, somewhere on the side of a mountain, I realised I had done exactly what I spend my professional life telling other people not to do.

I had assumed what support should look like for her, because it was what I thought I would have needed. I never asked her.

So on the way down, I did.

She told me I had got it wrong. She had not needed to be pushed or motivated or rallied. She had needed someone to sit with her. To be with her in it. Not to fix it or rush her through it, just to stay.

It is one of the most foundational principles in coaching, and one of the hardest to practise in real life: do not assume you know what support looks like for someone else. Your version of help is not necessarily theirs. What feels motivating to you might feel pressurising to them. What you experience as encouragement might land as impatience.

The question that changes everything is a simple one: what does support look like for you right now?

I ask it of every person I coach. I ask it of leadership teams when they are trying to understand each other. I ask it in team programmes when we are exploring how people give and receive support differently. It sounds simple. It is also one of the most disarming and clarifying questions you can ask another person.

As a coach, I try to live by it every day. As a parent, I am very much a work in progress.

But that walk down Scafell Pike reminded me that the best support is rarely the loudest. It is the kind that pauses, asks, and then follows the other person's lead.

If you are a leader, ask your team. If you are a founder, ask the people around you. And if you are someone who has been pushing through on your own for a while, it might be worth asking yourself the same question.

I work with leaders, founders, and teams across the UK from my base in Oxfordshire. If you are looking for support that starts by asking the right questions, I would love to talk. You can book a discovery call here.