#mindfulparent

Part One: Definition

Laura sat on her knees, her legs folded under her, pressed against the hard gymnasium floor.  Her weight shifted side to side to find comfort just as much as her eyes darted across the room to look for disapproving glances. Instead, whispers came from behind: “It’s so disgusting.  Why doesn’t she shave her legs?” one girl snickered to another.

Laura had thought about her gym grade based solely on participation.  Should she risk failure?  She wouldn’t have to get up—which would draw less attention to her—but then she’d ruin the only thing that made her feel good in middle school: getting straight A’s.  So she let the tension out of her shoulders and stood up to join her classmates during team selection.  More academic than athletic in nature, Laura was often the last to be picked by the jocks on the team but knew that her chubbiness, awkwardness, and unseemly hairy legs also made her the most undesirable choice.  She held her breath until her name was finally called.  “…and I guess we’ll take Hairy Legs,” the team captain announced defeated without looking up.  The entire class laughed on cue like a sitcom.  Laura’s stomach tightened like a fist, hard and throbbing. With pursed lips, she forced herself to smile because it prevented the further embarrassment that came with crying.

*

“Please, can I shave my legs?” Laura asked looking at the floor in front of her mom.  She had seen razors in the shower but was nervous about how to use them without cutting herself.

“You don’t need to do that.” her mom said boldly, plainly.  “You have blonde hair, and no one can see it.”

“But the girls at school can see it.  I can see it.”

“No, you can’t.  Not compared to my thick, dark hair.  If you shave it, it will only come in thicker and darker.  You don’t want that.  Trust me.” Her mom stood firmly planted, thick in stature and dark in the illuminated hallway.

Laura knew what she wanted, but her mom did not hear her as usual.  She swallowed hard and walked away.

There was no point in bringing it up again.  She’d have to find another way.

***

There are many lenses through which to view this story.  One lens is objective: This is a typical teenage/parent situation—the girl is belittled at school and her mother doesn’t understand her plight.  Another lens is through the mother’s eyes: The daughter was exaggerating because she doesn’t understand the bigger picture.  Blonde body hair on a woman is more socially acceptable; dark body hair is definitely not acceptable.  If the mother could go back in time, she would have delayed shaving or wouldn’t have shaved at all.  She wouldn’t have allowed peer pressure to push her into shaving early, causing the hair to grow back thicker, darker, causing her to shave more frequently because of the more noticeable hair.  Laura needed, deserved to know these things; the mother’s parents didn’t tell her these things when she was young.  

Yet another lens is through the daughter’s eyes.  The story, of course, is already her point of view, but there’s always more to a story. Laura felt intimidated to ask her mom intimate questions about handling her changing adolescent body.  Compounded with the typical teen feelings of embarrassment, uncertainty, and peer rejection at school, Laura felt rejected by her mother.  She needed her mother to teach her womanly ways without laughing at her concerns, bulldozing her feelings, and reframing her questions.  Every new issue she brought to her mother was met with crossed arms and condescension.  So Laura eventually stopped talking to her mom and tried to figure things out by herself—including other, bigger health questions and problems as she got older.  She lost both her trust and confidence in her mother.

All these lenses both coexist and overlap.  There isn’t a right way or a wrong way of looking at this story; each person (including the objective outsider) has his or her own experience, own point of view. However, consequences can occur when the lens of one—particularly if it includes strong feelings—is not considered by the other—and particularly in a close relationship such as romantic partners, best friends, and parents/children.

In the brain, emotional pain is processed in a similar way to physical pain—specifically, a chemical pain-inhibitor is released—proving that emotional pain does indeed hurt.1 Further, people react stronger to incidences of emotional rejection than incidences of physical pain, leading them to become more sensitive long-term.2 The girl, therefore, was genuinely hurt by the ridicule and rejection from her peers and turned to her mother for solace and a solution, but her mother also disregarded her lens, her words and feelings—and evidently not just in this instance.  This pattern of social rejection at school and emotional disregard at home continued for several years.  It led Laura into anxiety, depression, and body dysmorphia starting in high school and lasting for decades.

For those of you that may not know me, I will introduce myself.  My name is Laura—and this blog is my story of motherhood looking through the lens of my childhood.

The starting line for all parents is the way they were raised, and that path will continue unless an intentional detour is made.  When my son was born I made a swift turn down an uncharted road and haven’t looked back. Informed by parenting books, articles, blogs, and mom groups, I noticed a resounding message, a language, and a tool that not only informed me how to work through the emotional pain of my childhood, but also how to be a better friend and spouse and be the kind of mother my son needs.  It’s something we actually all need.

Empathy.

According to Dr. Brené Brown, LWSW, research professor, “empathy is feeling with people.”3 Empathy leads to connection; connection leads to trust; and trust builds secure relationships.  That is not to say that a relationship is impossible without empathy. Empathy is the language of the highest quality human interaction and relationships. It diffuses tension and simultaneously creates or strengthens the connection between strangers, acquaintances, neighbors, friends, or family.  Simply, it is the language of perfect love, sometimes referred to as agape.

The problem is most people do not understand empathy.  Most people are uncomfortable with negative emotions (whether within themselves or encountered by others), so we associate emotional support with minimizing and toughening, saying things like “This is your life right now” or “Cheer up! Things could be worse.” or “You’ll get over this eventually.” when someone approaches us with his or her troubles. This response most often stems from good intentions as we naturally prefer to live positively and so we remind others to “take the high road” and “seek the silver lining,” yet this technique can be toxic: at the micro level it can perpetuate an unhealthy emotional pattern of shame (I am a bad person for feeling or doing _____); isolation (I don’t feel like sharing); and avoidance (I don’t want to feel _____, so I’ll do _____ instead), and at the macro level it can stigmatize mental illness as an emotional choice perpetuating the belief that happiness is everyone’s personal responsibility.4

In contrast, empathy often uses validation or the communication of acceptance which calms the emotional storm that rages inside us.  It does not eliminate our feelings, yet it turns down their volume and its hold on our logical brain whether we are empathetic with ourselves or with others. The irony is that acknowledging negative emotions and giving it space to exist results in emotional resilience and overall increased psychological health.5

If the quality of life mostly depends on the quality of relationships, imagine the power of empathy in your life.  Imagine an understanding boss who “gets you”—wouldn’t you be motivated to do more? Imagine family and friends who validate your feelings when you confide in them—wouldn’t you feel wholly supported and loved?  Imagine a partner who reflects your emotions more than s/he rejects your emotions—wouldn’t your love, your bond grow stronger?  Now imagine your child[ren] cooperating, listening more and having fewer emotional episodes—that’s because you meet his/her/their emotions with empathy and modeled emotional intelligence.

In past generations, society was expected to follow authority blindly; children were expected to be seen and not heard.  Although we are overall more critical of authority today, the residue of strict obedience is still found in our parenting expectations: whenever we set a boundary—“Don’t do that!”—and are ignored—the child does that anyway—we are offended; our authority feels challenged; and we push back by yelling, punishing the perpetrator, making stricter rules.  In older children, our reaction can lead to a dead-end power struggle, so-called rebellion, and negative emotional patterns.  Paradoxically, the parenting shortcut to child cooperation is crafted connection, not compulsory compliance, and that connection is forged through empathy.

The knowledge of empathy presents a great tool for those who want to apply it to any relationship.  The next article (Part Two) will discuss what empathy in parenting looks like and how to use it.  Stay tuned!

Sources:

1.       https://www.pnas.org/content/pnas/108/15/6270.full.pdf

2.       https://www.forbes.com/sites/nicolefisher/2015/12/25/rejection-and-physical-pain-are-the-same-to-your-brain/#5c35ab934f87

3.       https://youtu.be/1Evwgu369Jw

4.       https://themighty.com/2016/04/happiness-as-a-choice-meme-feeds-stigma-around-mental-illness/