Judy Murray says being called a ‘pushy parent’ is sexist, but I can vouch mums and dads are all a nightmare

Judy Murray, mother of tennis superstar Sir Andy Murray, has been in the news this week, saying that she was called a “nightmare” pushy parent because she was a woman. If she had been a man, she says, she would have “been seen as so supportive”.

I can see how she would feel this way. When you are successful, the people who attack you because they are jealous or feel defensive tend to reach for any weapon they can. If all they can find to wallop you with is that you’re a woman, they will label you as a “nightmare” or “shrill” or any of those other words that people, not just men, like to use to bring women down.

But do people generally make a distinction between pushy mums and pushy dads? I don’t think so. We non-pushy parents are a nice bunch and are devoted to equality in all areas of life. As such, we see no biological distinction between pushy mums and pushy dads.

My son is eight and quite sporty, and already I have seen many red-faced dads on muddy touchlines, urgently chewing gum, bellowing at their tiny sons as if it was the FA Cup final and not a load of kids bumping into each other in the mud.

If Judy Murray thinks the rest of us are going on about how “supportive” those dads are, she’s wrong. We think all pushy parents are a nightmare. Men and women. Not because we are envious of your success – you can keep it – but because you make us question the non-pushy path we have chosen.

No philosophy that you choose to parent by always feels rock-solid. I’m sure the “Helicopter Parents” often have long, dark nights of the soul, as do “Tiger Moms”. At the other end of the scale, “Good Enough” parents like me often freak out that we are allowing our kids to slack off and not “fulfil their potential” (whatever that means).

I often have to remind myself how glad I am that neither of my parents were pushy, as their ideas for me were crackers. My dad’s dream child was an important and serious person in, perhaps, the Government or international banking. He kept suggesting that I might like to learn German and went off into starry eyed talking-to-himself daydreams about me taking my maths GCSE early when I had shown no gift for the subject whatsoever. I mean, he has given all that up now, and I’m sure he will deny he had any such aspirations. (But he did.)