When someone is experiencing a strong feeling, sometimes we “try to help” by telling her or him “it’s not so bad.” This attempt to minimize the negative experience — to save someone from the struggle, actually undermines the effort to help.
I wrote the article below over 12 years ago. Max is bigger than me now. It’s sometimes hard, with a teenager, to remember that tiny boy. But the challenge of acknowledging, or validating, feelings remains much the same. Sometimes it’s helpful to think of emotions like waves upon the beach. Sometimes crashing, sometimes smooth, but not something to fix. They “are what they are” and they come and go in a natural flow.
Max’s Nap
Sometimes when Max wakes up from his naps, he’s sad — especially when his mama isn’t home. Since Patty often uses naptime for her work, I’ve struggled to keep wakeup time from being a descent into wailing. Yesterday when he woke up, I practiced recognizing his feelings without fixing or correcting.
“I want Mama,” sulked Max, somehow accusing me for being the wrong parent.
My initial impulse was to react with hurt and say, “Well she’s not here and I am, so take or leave it, bub.” I resisted, and instead said lovingly, “You really want Mama, don’t you?”
“Yes,” replied a slightly-less-vexed Max.
I forgot my plan for a moment, and shifted to “reality” saying, “I’m sorry she’s not here, Maxie, but I’ll snuggle with you.” I was thinking, “She’s going to be here in ten minutes, it’s not that bad!” I suspect he heard my effort to minimize his feelings:
“GO Away Daddy. I want MAMA,” re-escalated Max.
Again, part of me felt rejected and wanted to go away. Instead, I chose to speak to the want that Max was expressing. I sat down on his bed and said, “I really miss her too. It’s sad when she’s not home.”
“Yah,” admitted Max, reaching out closer to me.
“She’s such a good snuggler, and so warm and just right. I love her so much too — sometimes I really miss her.”
“Yah,” affirmed Max, now snuggling close to me.
“I wish we could both snuggle with her right now. She could hold you close, and we could all squeeze into your little bed. And we’d just have a lovely snuggle.”
Suddenly, Max changed gears and spoke in his “you silly Daddy voice” — “But my bed isn’t big enough.”
When I gave into the impulse to “solve” the situation by telling Max the facts, I was forgetting (again) that facts are not relevant to the emotional brain. When I say, “You know Mama’s going to be home soon, right?” I’m also saying, “You should not feel sad.” While my impulse may be kind, it’s actually dismissive.
Max wanted his mama, facts wouldn’t change that. When I stopped “fixing it” and participated in his world, I let him feel that I truly understood his feelings. In the end, he knew I understood, and that let him move on.
It’s fairly easy to see this in child of two-and-a-half — but the premise is true for people of all ages. Feelings are real, even when the causes don’t make sense to another person. And when people are sad, understanding is infinitely more precious that facts.
Joshua Freedman
We can understand and learn so much about ourselves(the way we feel) and the way we respond.I can quite identify with the feeling of rejection here. When we feel rejected our responses get affected too.
In my experience as a corporate trainer, i am beginning to realize 2 things.
1. Managers are not in touch with their own feelings.
2. They do not have the competency of verbalizing their emotions.
2. Their own focus is so high on production and delivery that they just want to get the work done. Therefore their whole communication emphasises the fact that no matter how the other is feeling, The other person just needs to do his job and if he does not, he will shout, insult and humiliate the non performer.
Do you have similar experiences to share ?
I see these as teachable moments for introducing rating scales. I think learning to rate things keeps us from “awfulizing.” A crying uncontrollable child needs to hear – “Big bad pain, while you comfort him or here. A child that can run to you for comfort can be asked how big a hurt. While a kid that falls and pops up and goes on is being taught rating when you say – “A small bump. Good for you that you kept going.” Works with fear also.
Hi Joshua,
thank you very much for your article. What a timing for me. I was just writing a farewell letter to my father. He lives in Poland. He is 86 years old and very sick. I came to see him and help him through difficult time. I live in Australia. The visit turned to be a nightmare. I took 5 weeks of unplanned holidays to help him and to be with him. Your article opened my eyes! Thank you, thank you and again thank you. Understanding my father feelings is more precious then facts. Facts are not relevant to the emotional brain. He told me that I came to take away his independence and deprive him of his freedom. I could not understand how such a thought and feeling could germinate in his mind? I travelled 20 000 km to see him and help him. Now I am not questioning it. Feelings are real. Very real. Your article helped me to finish my letter. I hope it will make sense for him a well. He is very bright, intelligent and very mentally alert person. He can not accept, that his body is failing him but brain is fighting the horrible poli neurological disease.
Josh – very good – I’ll be using these thoughts especially with our new grandchild & his/her parents 🙂 Blessings
Dear Josh,
Beautiful and honest article that inspired me, thank you. I was windering: what about the cognitive element of emotions? Doesnt it make sense to challenge it when its distorted? I mean, emotions are, as far as i understand, connected to our thoughts about a situation. Sometimes our thoughts can be limiting or distorted (such as, knowing that someone will be back in 10 minutes may actually help me missing her less).
What are your thoughts on this?
Thank you!
Many years ago, after losing my job, I told my then 4 year old that I was home because I had lost my job, but the good news was that I would be able to spend more time with him. He did not miss a beat.
“I wish mom had lost her job.”
I’m still laughing about that one.