Family Matters

The Ph.D. Problem

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:52:53 GMT

The Ph.D. Problem

We all aspire to greatness for our children. It’s woven deeply into our psychological makeup. We believe in them; we see them for what they truly are: Remarkable.

Ask most parents, their newborn child was destined for a spectacular life. Their potential was endless; all that was left was to usher them to the promised land of success. As soon as this little infant emerged from the womb, they showed signs of elite performance. The way they rolled over; the eye contact suggested greater awareness. A personality that was apparent from the moment they first babbled. It’s beautiful, it’s breathtaking, but without being kept in check, it can also become highly pressuring.

We act as mirrors for our children. They learn about themselves from the things we say and the messages we portray with our actions and body language.

Expectations are natural, and high expectations breed self-belief, a necessary character trait for highly effective people. They also, however, have a common side effect of communicating conditional love.

A child that is exposed to high expectations needs to be handled with care. It is a delicate balance to maintain. If we aren’t emotionally attuned, we may be lauding our children for their qualities while portraying their value as dependent on our impressed praise.

“My son the doctor” is a phrase that characterizes an aspect of our social structure. It evokes different feelings for different people but is a loaded statement no matter how you slice it.

Imagine a child born to a family of musicians. “My father was a professional pianist, my mother traveled with the New York Philharmonic, and even my grandparents were professional musicians.” These credentials are a praise, and a prison. The potential pressure is self-evident. What if I don’t want to be a musician? What if I want to blaze my own trail? What if that isn’t me?

“But it’s in your blood! You have so much talent! G-d has blessed you with a gift and you’re not even using it!”

The answer is simple mom; He’s not you. We all want our children to follow in our footsteps, and sometimes we want that in the most literal way. It may hurt when he doesn’t. It may feel personal; intentional; or antagonistic.

You know something? It just may be.

We may present it to ourselves under the guise of guiding our children, but there’s a necessary ingredient in guiding that is usually missing: acceptance.

Raising children is a process of watching as a child unveils the version of amazing that they are. Yes, we have to show our children the proper path, but our efforts are futile unless children receive a message from parents that they are breathtaking beings, befitting of all the miraculous wonders of the entire creation. After all, wasn’t every person created in the image of Hashem? Isn’t this what Chazal meant by b’shvili nivra olam?

Perhaps we intend to suggest an edit.

“My child, you are a tzelem elokim, to whom it applies the statement b’shvili nivra ha’olam, as long as you follow these rigid expectations and continue to impress me and those around you.”

I hear criticism all the time about this "new school" Chinuch, and how it is raising our children to be "fragile".

"Never tell your children no".

"Don’t worry about resilience, as long as we care about their feelings".

"Aren’t you suggesting we raise delicate children?”

Absolutely not! We need rules, expectations, limitations, and consequences. We need to find appropriate moments to allow our children to pull themselves out of difficulty without swooping in and rescuing them from life. We need to believe in our children to be resilient, intuitive, street-smart, and hard-working. We need to treat them according to this belief so they can rise to the challenge that has been put before them.

All I ask is that you check yourself. Look inside and discover whether there is enough space in your expectations and belief for your kids to do things that make you uncomfortable. Is it so bad that he’s not into davening yet? Is it terrible that she isn’t excited by tznius clothing right now? Is there room for patience and an unaltered level of love if he stops wearing a yarmulke? Does chutzpah really mean she should be thrown out of the house? Maybe they’re communicating. Maybe they’re saying, “See me.” “Hear me.” “Love me for who I am not what I do.” Children want to be like their parents. They will hold onto our values, and will likely pick up a bunch of our flaws. We can depend on this unless, of course, we try to micromanage their personalities to perfection. Or even greatness. Then we can be confident that at some point they will push back once they are sick of us trying to change them.

It’s important to note that my opinion is not borne out of a lack of care for Torah observance. I care deeply about all of our children clinging to a relationship with Hashem. It is of utmost importance that they daven, learn, give tzedakah, avoid speaking lashon harah, keep the halachos of tznius, grow up to keep taharas hamishpacha, and so on. I’m just playing the long game. It’s ineffective to focus on changing them. No one wants to be changed, not children, not adults. We want to be seen, loved, and accepted. Some of us may have the mentality that criticism helps us grow and challenges us to be better. That it provides an opportunity for self-development. This is true and is the attitude we should try and maintain when on the receiving end of criticism. It is in no way a calculation that allows us to criticize anyone, especially our children, and crushing them under the weight of expectations is no different.

It’s important for us to recognize that being a frum Jew requires a tremendous amount of commitment and dedication. There will be ups and downs, and sometimes downs are difficult to get out of. Let’s focus on what we can control, our own growth. If we love, believe in, and accept our children, while striving for our own personal growth, we can be sure that they will become the best they can be.

Where to Begin

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:51:10 GMT

Where to Begin

You know what I’ve never heard at the beginning of a session with a couple: “We only have one problem.” Never have I ever been tasked with helping a couple navigate one issue. The same is true with family therapy. Relationships don’t contain one problem, they contain endless differences, triggers, and frustrations that can populate the script of an infinite argument.

For countless hours, couples have pleaded with me to understand their point of view. They beg me to knock some sense into their deranged spouse who seems to be the most ignorant creature to ever walk the face of the earth.

“I have an idea,” I once told a couple who had insisted on paying me to watch them argue for the first 3 weeks, “you both present your point of view, and I will decide who’s right. Then we’ll move on to the next topic and work our way through all of your concerns.” Needless to say, this suggestion was not one they were excited about. After discussing what was unappealing about my suggestion, the couple realized they were not interested in finding out they were wrong about anything. Shocker!

So now what? There are unlimited points of conflict, no one wants to know if they are wrong, and everyone is shouting. Meanwhile, the kids are parenting themselves and no one is feeling fulfilled. One partner will shout to communicate their anguish, while the other withdraws to avoid further rocking an unsteady boat. Both sides continue following their impulses, secretly hoping for amends to be made, all the while feeling hopeless for their future.

The same dynamic exists in a struggling parent-child relationship. Children show no respect, parents struggle to convey unconditional love, and power struggles dominate the limited time together. Stress levels are overwhelmingly high as all parties flail to have their needs met. Parents shout to establish control, children act out to penetrate boundaries.

Albert Einstein famously said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” Aren’t we all guilty of this? We keep shoving a square into a circle across the many relationships in our lives and get angry with the corners of the square for getting in the way.

So, what should we change? It sounds hopeless!

If you are currently experiencing a struggling relationship, be it romantic or with a child, ask yourself the following question: Is there positivity in my relationship?

Dr. John Gottman, arguably the foremost researcher on marriage and relationships in history, found that positive interactions play a massive role in predicting the health of a relationship. His studies discovered the “Magic Relationship Ratio” of 5 to 1. This means that a stable and happy marriage has five (or more) positive interactions for every negative interaction during the conflict. Presumably, a similar concept can be applied to our relationship with children. It is intuitive and supported by Dr. Gottman’s research, that a satisfying, enjoyable relationship requires an imbalance in ratio highly favoring positive interactions.

Where can these positive interactions be found? Everywhere. Carpool, dinnertime, wake-up, bath-time.

When was the last time you cranked the music in the living room for a family dance party? How about family game night? Late-night ice cream party? ‘No bedtime Thursdays’?

When was the last time doing the dishes turned into a water fight with your spouse? How about a late-night slow dance in the kitchen? Playing cards in bed?

Maybe we should start slow. How about making eye contact while talking? Giving compliments? Listening?

How about telling our children how awesome we think they are? Or maybe showing them by listening to their ridiculous stories without correcting them. What if we smiled at them with our eyes as if to say “How did I get so lucky to have you as my kid”? (If this is difficult, see last week’s article entitled “Do you like your children?”)

Life provides many obstacles to hurdle, but it’s harder to do so when living in a gloomy environment. By infusing our homes and relationships with positivity; with fun, we create an environment that is primed to effectively navigate differences.

As Gary Chapman tells us in his book “The 5 Love Languages”, everyone has their own unique emotional love tank. If this love tank is nurtured and kept full, we are empowered with unbelievable resilience and become expert problem solvers.

We must always have our eyes open to find ways to have fun; to connect with our loved ones. This ongoing gesture can provide the adrenaline a relationship needs to sail stormy seas.

The Humble Struggle

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:42:24 GMT

The Humble Struggle

You know that awkward moment when you realize you made a parenting mistake? That moment when your action or body language sends all sorts of hurtful messages to your child?

I do. I’m quite familiar with it; the sinking feeling that captures the irreversible impact of wounding communication.

I’m human, and as a human, I make mistakes. You’re human too. Many people think they know they’re human, but when push comes to shove, they display tremendous resistance to accepting the limitations of our species.

When I first offer parenting sessions as an integral part of treatment for a child, it is often met with defensiveness. “You’re saying that our daughter’s behavior is our fault?”

I respond diplomatically: “It’s not that your child’s behavior is your fault, but sometimes regular parenting isn’t enough for children that are predisposed to anxiety, depression or ADHD, etc. Parents are more capable of inspiring change in children than a therapist, and I would like to teach you to over-compensate for their behavioral challenges.”

I must admit, my answer is not entirely truthful. Behavior challenges are usually a direct result of parenting.

Even the simplest and most well-accepted of parenting techniques have been associated with adverse behaviors in children. One such technique is punishment.

According to Dr. Alan Kazdin, a Professor of Psychology and Child Psychiatry at Yale University, punishment is unhelpful and causes unfavorable results in children’s behavior.

Punishment causes resentment, encourages self-centered behavior, encourages dishonesty, and prevents children from developing their inner moral compass. Additionally, punishment has been shown in studies to cause psychological damage, leading to aggressive social behavior, misbehavior in school, lying, stealing, and fighting.

Punishment is not the only culprit misguiding parents. Research from The University of Texas at Austin shows that children adjust poorly when parents react negatively to their crying, fussing, or adverse behaviors. This means the globally accepted response to crying and fussing hurts our children.

The study showed that it is even better to be a consistently negative parent than a parent that displays ‘aversion-focused negativity’. In the study, the more aversion-focused mothers were the more behavior problems their children seemed to have, and the worse their social competence and emotion regulation.

Punishment is not an ingredient of effective parenting? Reacting negatively to crying, fussing, and adverse behavior is bad for children? So, what can we do as parents to steer our children straight?
Now we’re getting somewhere. Asking this question is the first step towards helping our children. Parenting is no simple task, and it is important to realize there is no shame in the struggle.

I don’t file my own taxes, suture my own wounds, or paskan my own shailos. These are not my areas of expertise. For these matters, I seek the help of a competent professional.

Parenting should be treated the same. If your children are suffering, seek help. I don’t go to the Dr. and inform them which suturing technique is best to heal my wound. Please, for the sake of your children, enter therapy with an open mind. Maybe, just maybe, something can be done for your child on the parenting front. You may still be an amazing person and an amazing parent, but there is humility required in parenting.

If there are any aspects of your parenting that need work, address them before shipping your kid off to be fixed. It is easy to underestimate the impact of the subtlest parenting misstep, and we may be the greatest resource our child has to prevail over their most undesirable behaviors.

It can be difficult to learn that our parenting isn’t perfect, and even more so when we learn our parenting may be hurtful. If we take a hard look in the mirror, we will realize that we all could use some work in this regard. It requires a significant amount of humility to put our pride aside for the sake of our children, but just know that my mirror sometimes tells me to take a slice of humble pie as well. We can’t be perfect, but we can still reach for greatness, and sometimes, greatness means knowing our flaws. “True humility is staying teachable, regardless of how much you already know.” - Unknown

Do You Like Your Children?

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:30:18 GMT

Do You Like Your Children

“What kind of question is that? I love my children!”

I didn’t ask if you love your children, love is common. But do you like your children? Do you enjoy them? Enjoy spending time with them? Appreciate their personalities? Look forward to seeing them? Does your face light up when you think of them?

How about pride? Are you proud of them? Proud of their choices? Their accomplishments? Their abilities? Do they do justice to your family name?

You may be wondering why these questions are important. “What is he getting at? If they accomplish things, I will be proud. If they have great abilities, I will be impressed. And they’d better do justice to our family name!”

Allow me to introduce an important piece of background information. According to the US National Library of Medicine, an abundance of research conducted worldwide has revealed that self-esteem is a crucial contributor to happiness. As far as I see it, the global chase for happiness can be better qualified as chasing self-satisfaction. Happiness tends to imply a state of euphoria, whereas most people are merely searching to be enough. Enough for the judgmental voice in their heads that is always waiting to bring them down. This voice can belong to a father, mother, Rebbi, teacher, principal, or may be the voice of the general populous. People are looking to be satisfied with who they are, their nature, tendencies, qualities, and most importantly, their struggles. The most validating thing any of us can hear is that our struggles are normal, our imperfections are OK, and we are lovable despite our flaws.

It follows that our parents’ opinion of us shapes our self-esteem. Who better to determine our value than the people we saw as our greatest resource of strength and safety throughout childhood? Their nature is our DNA, their nurture has sculpted our preferences, and they are the ones we always hope to impress.

We sometimes forget that we are those parents for our children. Kids look to us to find out that they are OK; that they are enough; lovable. They hang on every word we utter and every glance we shoot in their direction. The slightest gesture from our eyebrows can send deep expressions of love, or crippling messages of judgment.

Here is a fact that I don’t believe is up for discussion. If you don’t like your children, they know. They know you see them as weird, annoying, incessant or disappointing. Whatever negative feeling one has in their heart towards their children is communicated more clearly than any message transmitted through the long-winded speeches we usually use to communicate with children.

For the scope of this article, I am specifically referring to feelings of negativity that shed judgment on the personality of the child. It is less realistic to address momentary feelings of frustration with kids. Children are resilient and can navigate times that parents are disapproving, provided there is an over-arching theme of positivity in the relationship. But here is my message: If we do not like our children, we are failing at a most important aspect of parenting. Of the primary goals of parenting, one is to enhance our children’s self-esteem. It is almost impossible to do so if we cannot find them pleasant, special, and wonderful.

Just to clarify, I am not vouching for self-disparagement. If you look in the mirror tomorrow and realize you don’t like your children, be nice to yourself. I believe self-compassion to be a most effective tool in so many respects. But I am vouching for change. It is our responsibility to change the way we see our children. If we can’t do it ourselves, we must seek out guidance to help us.

We look around the world and blame our children’s behavior on a bad influence at school, an insensitive teacher… but when was the last time you saw a dysfunctional adult and thought “They’re probably struggling because of that bad friend they had in 6 ^th grade.” Usually, when faced with an adult experiencing dysfunction, a therapist will explore the client’s past starting with their parents. As a client recently joked with me “You therapists are all the same,” when I asked, “So tell me about your mother.”

A child with proper support at home can grow to navigate life with resilience. This is not a guarantee, but it gives our children the best chance they have. In contrast, however, I can guarantee that we are becoming our children’s worst adversary if we communicate to them that they are not likeable.

In my field, it is common for a parent to enter an intake session with their child labeled ‘Problem’. Many a time I have witnessed an environment that can be summed up with the following real quote from a session early in my career. The mother walked her 12-year-old son into my office, looked him up and down, curled her nose in disgust and exclaimed, “This kid is a mess and needs fixing.” This is the moment in a session where a therapist makes the mental note, “Mom is the problem.”

We must open our eyes and realize the endless impression that our feelings have on our children. We must like our children. They make it difficult sometimes, but there is no other option without shirking our responsibilities. Our precious bundles of joy need our approval, so let’s get on it.

The English Way

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:24:25 GMT

The English Way

When I receive feedback about my articles, it is usually unassertive. “Good job this week.” “I really enjoyed your article,” and the like. Last week’s article received radically different attention.

“The problem with society nowadays is your approach! We’re creating a soft, ‘woke’ generation that lacks grit. Resilience is created through toughness, not this validating stuff you keep speaking of. We need to go back to the old English way!”

This comment was half serious, half messing with me, but I would like to address his point. (To be clear, I obtained this person’s permission to quote his feedback before doing so.)

I was born in Manchester, England, and am quite familiar with the old English way. Tough, no nonsense, stern. There’s a way things should be, and a way they shouldn’t. Children are to talk respectfully and follow directions. Resilience is born out of rigorous expectations, and children are to be put in their place when necessary. This approach is obviously not limited to British child-rearing ideals, but is commonly referred to as the old-school approach.

In 1944, John Bowlby, a British Psychiatrist, theorized that children come into the world biologically pre-programmed to form attachments with others, because this will help them to survive. He attributes survival to emotional connection. In the 1930’s and 40’s, orphaned children in the halls of American Hospitals died in droves, lacking only touch and emotional contact. Touch and emotional connection are prerequisites for survival, like food, water, & oxygen.

Bowlby was born in 1907. The son of a baronet, he was raised primarily by nannies and governesses. He was allowed to join his parents at the dinner table after turning 12, and even then, only for dessert.

This ‘style’ of parenting is (hopefully) outdated for even the most old-fashioned of parents. The question becomes, where should the emotional revolution come to a halt? What is the line that must be drawn in the sand, that distinguishes between emotionally healthy relationships, and a parenting style that contributes to “a soft, ‘woke’ generation that lacks grit?”

The answer, as is commonly the case, is that it’s a balance. We must ensure that we are providing our children with clear messages of unconditional love, concern for their feelings, and validation. But we must also be firm to create the structure they need to thrive, gain independence, and develop resistance. This can be best summed up with the following three rules that I have alluded to in the past:

1) Be strong.

2) Be loving.

3) Be understanding.

But then put your foot down and calmly keep it there until things go your way! No ifs ands or buts about it! Empty threats and beating your chest to intimidate are exercises in futility. Composed follow through, however, will get you results.

Be strong: Say what you mean, mean what you say, and follow through so it’s clear that you mean it.

Be loving: Make it clear to your children that even though you are asking them to do something they are unhappy about; you love them unconditionally.

Be understanding: There is no rule that children must feel like you enjoy “getting them back” through rules or consequences. On the contrary. Implementation of expectations is more effective when children feel that you do not enjoy making them uncomfortable.

I must clarify. Being strong does not mean being loud, intimidating, or angry, and it certainly doesn’t mean being cruel. Being strong does not mean laughing at your child for crying over something you’ve deemed insignificant. Telling your child to shut up is still rude, and is a lazy alternative to composed, strong interventions. Being strong doesn’t mean punish the trouble-maker without investigating to see what happened. Being strong is not invalidating emotions because it would be easier if they’d just get over it. Strength in parenting is shown through confidence, composure, conviction, and consistency; by holding children to expectations without compromising the way we treat them. After all, kids are people too.

“What if they don’t listen to this calm, strong intervention? Then what should we do?”

First of all, let’s not kid ourselves. For every parent that keeps law and order in their home through intimidation tactics, I can show you three more whose kids are bouncing off the walls in rebellion to the aggressive methods their parents employ. If calm, strong intervention doesn’t work, who’s to say using parenting as an excuse to bully will work to maintain structure?

Second of all, keep in mind that obedience is only one goal of parenting. We are supposed to educate, guide, and most importantly be unconditionally loving towards our children. They must leave our homes with their self-esteems not only intact, but improved. Somewhere along the way, this may include moments where they don’t jump to follow our commands.

If you try using calm, strong parenting interventions and they don’t work, seek guidance to learn interventions that don’t include vengeful, chest-beating intimidation.

So, how should we avoid enabling a soft, ‘woke’ generation. Hold your children accountable. Say what you mean, mean what you say, and be in charge. Teach middos, derech eretz, and manners. Insist on homework being completed, class being attended, and adults being respected. But keep your eyes open. If your child pushes back, consider why. If you meet resistance, the answer may not be push harder. The way to develop resilience is by modelling resilience, not by beating it into our children by invalidating. The way to nurture self-esteem is to allow children to believe they are loveable even when they are misbehaving or being inconvenient. NO, THIS DOES NOT MEAN ALLOWING BAD BEHAVIOR. IT DOES NOT MEAN GIVING IN TO AVOID CONFRONTATION WITH A CHILD. You are an adult; a parent. You are in charge and what you say goes. But why do we have to be so black and white? Why does strength have to contradict validating and being emotionally in tune. Why does strength have to be mean and hurtful?

Show strength through love, respect, and sensitivity. Show strength with confident composure. There is strength in remaining calm while implementing interventions. But make sure to implement them. Keeping this balance will raise balanced children. Children with toughness, grit, and sensitivity to others and themselves.

Raising Kids with Superpowers

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:22:58 GMT

Raising Kids with Superpowers

“She’s so advanced! I can’t believe she’s walking already!”

“I’m telling you; he’s got such a sense of humor! What a kibitzer!”

We’re all inclined to believe our children are particularly special, and they are, only not in the ways we tend to think. Many of us struggle to embrace the possibility that our children are anything but perfect, which is why it comes as such a shock and disappointment when they act out. As I recently told a parent, your child will continue to do stupid 6 ^th grade things until he finishes the 6 ^th grade.

As the reality of our children’s limitations set in, we send them to tutors, remedial math programs, sports trainers, and get them evaluated by the DOE to catch them back up and allow them to realize their full potential of being spectacular.

We are always on the lookout for a stepping stone to help propel our children forward and provide them an edge over the competition. We encourage learning to cook, play an instrument, play sports, paint, draw, read, crochet, or anything that will stimulate their minds further than ‘Temple Run’ or ‘Fortnite’. We encourage exercise, the outdoors, and of course Torah learning. All of these things are undeniably important, and as always, Talmud Torah K’neged Kulam.” One area that is rarely a focus is emotional intelligence.

Emotional intelligence is the ability to understand, use, and manage your own emotions in positive ways to relieve stress, communicate effectively, empathize with others, overcome challenges and defuse conflict. Children, like adults, are often lacking these skills, and struggle to use emotions to relieve stress, communicate, empathize, etc. Due to their cognitive limitations, therapy is structured much differently for kids.

There have been many strides taken in the last century with children in therapy, dating as far back as Freud in 1909 and his work with “Little Hans”. This is the earliest documented use of play in therapy.

In the 1970’s, Dr. Sheila Eyberg developed Parent-Child Interaction Therapy. As its name suggests, Parent-Child Interaction Therapy, or PCIT, creates change in a child’s behavior by focusing on the interactions between parent and child. Besides the fact that PCIT is evidence-based, which means its efficacy has been studied in scientific studies and the data shows that it is effective, it is also intuitive. Whether or not we have made mistakes in our parenting, targeted improvement in parent-child interactions will always create positive change in a child’s behavior.

PCIT has been revolutionary in therapy with children because it uses the parents as the primary vehicle of change for children. It is common knowledge that parents have the greatest impact on their children. For better or for worse, we can be our children’s most valuable asset, or their most difficult antagonist.

The same is true with regard to teaching emotional intelligence. We have more power than any therapist or teacher to educate and model emotional awareness for our own children.

We must, however, be in touch with our own limitations. Many adults struggle to use their emotions effectively, and therefore, must turn to professionals or literature to become educated in effective parenting techniques and how to model emotional intelligence.

There is one massively important lesson that I find parents struggle to teach their children. It is a crucial concept that tends to evade not only children, but adults as well. Since the lesson is so rare, I consider it a superpower. One that if correctly bestowed upon a child, can provide them a shortcut to self-compassion and acceptance, help them navigate the horrors of grief, struggle, and sickness, and allow them to lead non-judgmental, well-adjusted lives. This superpower is the understanding that humans can have multiple, contradictory feelings, all at the same time. We can feel any combination of happy, sad, confused, overwhelmed, devastated, anxious, confident, love, hate, compassion, anger, etc. There is no rule that emotions have to take turns.

This notion is well-represented in the concept of Dialectics in the well-known therapy modality DBT. In DBT, the therapist helps the client accept contradictions such as: I’m trying my best, and I need to do better. I deserve to be proud of myself, and also want change. We waste countless calories of emotional energy wrestling between “I’m doing a great job considering my circumstance” and “If I wasn’t such a pathetic loser, I’d have turned my life around by now.” Not only is this battle ineffective, it is based on a falsehood. There is no need for a decision. The wrestling match between contradicting feelings is unnecessary. They’re both true! They’re all true! And that’s OK! It’s normal! I’d even venture to say that not having the capacity for multiple, contradictory feelings at the same time would indicate emotional simplicity.

Children are sponges. They have a far greater capacity for learning than adults, and the prime time for them to learn about holding multiple feelings at once is in their youth. But we teach them the opposite. When they cry, we distract them with reasons they should be happy. We teach them to run away from sadness and pain. We not only teach them not to accept their negative feelings, but we send the message that their positive feelings should occupy all of their emotional brain space, leaving no room for tears. “No, no, no, don’t cry! Look, I’m making a funny face!” “Why can’t you appreciate all I do for you rather than complain all the time!” We ourselves are confused and often believe that these sentences make sense, but I don’t believe they are true. I can appreciate you and still feel like complaining (a lesson many would benefit from learning before getting married). I can laugh at your funny face and my sadness may still remain.

Yes, there is room for ‘cheering someone up’. Yes, it is fair to ask to be appreciated rather than complained to. But do we ever find times to counteract this implicit, accidentally reinforced, mistaken perspective? Do we ever find opportunities to share with our children “Mommy is feeling so happy for you that you’re playing tackle football with your friends, and is also feeling worried for you that you will hurt yourself. Isn’t it cool how Mommy can feel both of those things at the same time? I feel happy for you and worried!”

This lesson is priceless. Point out to your children when you are feeling multiple things at once. Help them learn about emotions by modelling for them. Help them find unique ways to hold their emotions comfortably. Allow them to feel pain and sadness. Don’t distract them with happy things, but rather marvel at the pain and suffering with them, while also marveling at the fact that the pain is not all encompassing. Show them how many things they can feel at once. Teach them to notice, to think, to be aware. Who knows, perhaps we still have time to grow up with superpowers ourselves.

The Bully on My Shoulder

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:21:40 GMT

The Bully on My Shoulder

There’s something wrong with me. Why can’t I just be like everyone else? If I wasn’t so incapable, I wouldn’t be in this mess. It’s hopeless. I’m always going to be miserable.

It looks extreme when seeing this self-talk in writing, but this is actually an under-exaggeration of negative self-talk.

We’ve all seen those pictures that travel around social media, you know the type: fancy quote about life with a sunset or mountain in the background, or if the creator is feeling motivational, the backdrop may be a guy running. I recently saw one that read, “Be nice to yourself.” Short, sweet, and thought-provoking, but not how I would have said it. Another was phrased, “I choose to be compassionate towards myself.” We’re getting there, but not hitting the nail on the head. “Having compassion for yourself means that you honor and respect your humanness.” This is much closer. Compassion and recognition of what it means to be human, the expectation of being flawed, and the awareness that it’s OK. However, there’s still one missing ingredient, an important realization about self-talk not incapsulated by this quote. That is, “It’s hard to be happy when someone’s mean to you all the time.”

This added piece is one we don’t commonly admit to ourselves. The way we speak inside our minds is abusive. It is mean, hurtful, and quite unreasonable.

“Really? Abusive? That seems a bit harsh don’t you think?” No, I don’t think it is. Abusive is an appropriate description of the relationship we have with our negative self-talk.

According to Merriam-Webster, verbal abuse as a noun is “Harsh and insulting language directed at a person.”

Examples of verbal abuse in a relationship include trivializing, judging, criticizing, degrading, gaslighting, name-calling, and constantly pointing out mistakes and flaws. Though there are elements of an abusive relationship that do not apply to negative self-talk, such as threatening, the relationships are comparable.

If we find ourselves in an abusive relationship, the professional advice provided in the literature is to call out the abusive behavior, remove yourself from the situation, and if possible, remove yourself from the relationship entirely.

It is important to note, if one finds themselves in an abusive relationship, they must find professional help and guidance to properly navigate their unique situation.

For the purposes of this article, we will refer to the words of Dr. Phil, “We teach people how to treat us.” This is not to say the victim is at fault, but the practical advice given to those being verbally abused is to change the nature of the environment, where the only communication tolerated is respectful and peaceful discussion.

In an interpersonal relationship, insisting on such treatment can be challenging. There are other factors to consider that play a role; intimidation, embarrassment, and love, to name a few. In an intrapersonal relationship, however, these factors do not play a dominant role. For this reason, it may be easier to identify abusive self-talk than to identify an abusive partner or parent.

So why have we never considered our own self-talk abusive? Why might you be reading this decidedly convinced that I’m exaggerating, despite the clear comparison I laid out. Even if you think the word abusive is too extreme, at the very least one should realize that being mean to yourself; lacking compassion and understanding for one’s own humanness, is a grave mistake with significant consequences.

In my opinion, there are two reasons why we struggle to recognize the abuse.

The first is something we have discussed in the past. We engage in negative self-talk to encourage change. It may not be conscious, but somewhere deep down we have convinced ourselves that we must hate ourselves into growth. We fear complacency, and equate disparaging comments to avoiding complacency. What seems to be unknown to many, is that self-compassion is not synonymous with complacency. Quite the contrary. We see time and again, that those who engage in self-hate may suffer from anxiety, low self-esteem, or depression. Those who are compassionate towards themselves, on the other hand, believe in themselves, are motivated to grow, and have the capacity to bring others up with them as well.

The second reason is not one I can prove, but is one I’d like to posit as a theory. It is more psychoanalytic in nature, and I’d be curious to hear feedback from readers as to whether this thought rings true for you.

Growing up, children are bound to get in trouble. Somewhere along the line, an authority figure will have to intervene in a troublesome behavior and steer us back to the proper path. It is all too common for these interventions to be completely unproductive and stir us far away from the goal the adult had in mind.

“What’s the matter with you?!” “You’re so disrespectful!” “Why are you always in trouble?!” “You clearly weren’t paying attention!”

Do these comments intend to hurt? Of course not. But then what are they? Are they a mere expression of frustration? I don’t believe so. I believe, that somewhere deep down, we believe that these comments have the power to induce positive change. It is embarrassing to consider, but our expectations appear to be a complete behavioral overhaul by the child after we point out their wrongdoing. Almost as if the child will hear our personal attack, reconsider their ways, and improve for the future. Ha!

Imagine:

“You’re right dad! There is something the matter with me. That’s it! From now on you’re going to see a whole new me!”

“I am disrespectful! Wow, I’d never noticed. Well not anymore!”

“I am always in trouble, aren’t I?! Well, that won’t do. That won’t do one bit. I must improve myself and be more obedient.”

“I wasn’t paying attention, you’re right, and it is a problem. I will look up the nearest Cognitive Behavioral Therapist to learn tools to avoid losing focus, and will contact a local Psychiatrist to execute a complete Neuro-Psych Evaluation to screen for ADHD.”

Obviously, these responses are entirely unrealistic, but yet we use these comments as parenting interventions. We are clearly unable to accurately consider our actions in the heat of the moment, but a message is transmitted. It’s not a deliberate message, and when we put it under the microscope it is exposed as silly, but we accidentally teach our children that growth is spurred by unaimed, uncalculated disparaging judgments.

The parallel is clear. Parents commonly say “What’s your problem.” Hey, my self-talk says that too. A parent says “Why can’t you listen like your sister?” Hey, I compare myself to my sister too. “If you tried harder, you’d be able to pay attention.” My self-talk says that too! I’m always blaming failures on not being a person who tries hard.

I believe we mistakenly teach children to change themselves using this useless speech. The speech that says they’re not good enough. The speech that tells us we’re not good enough. The speech that tells them they’ll be loveable when… The speech that tells us we’ll be loveable when…

It is common sense. “It’s hard to be happy when someone’s mean to you all the time.” It’s even harder if that someone has a secret passageway to the inner-most processing departments of your brain; when that person is yourself. We learned this from our parents, who learned it from theirs, and if we are not careful, we will allow it to ruin our lives, and our children’s lives as well.

We must learn to stand strong in the face of negative self-talk. We must never ‘roll-over’ and accept this negativity. We are under the impression that our inner-most thoughts are truth, and that we must wait for them to go away, but this is false.

The story is told of R’ Henoch Leibowitz, the Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivas Chofetz Chaim, that he went to his father R’ Dovid on a day that he was feeling quite down on himself. He complained to his father, “I’m no good. Nothing will ever come of me.” R’ Dovid responded with a series of simple questions.

“Is this feeling helping or hurting your growth?”

“Well, it’s hurting of course.”

“So, is it the Yetzer Horah, or the Yetzer Tov?”

“It’s the Yetzer Horah I presume.”

“So, is it sheker, or emes?”

“Sheker.”

“So go back to the Beis Medrish and stop listening to sheker.”

R’ Dovid knew that we are never stuck listening to our negative speech. Our negative speech is responsible for untapped potential, worldwide, for countless generations, and is therefore obviously the work of the Yetzer Horah.

We must be strong. We must break the cycle of negativity. We must model self-compassion, and truly be kind to ourselves rather than beat ourselves down. We must notice the cunning plot of the Yetzer Horah, to litter our minds with muck, rather than see ourselves for the greatness that we truly are.

Nurture My Heart

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:18:11 GMT

Nurture My Heart

A student once asked me what was my favorite part of the school day. With no hesitation, I answered “Recess, of course!”

The boy chuckled. “That’s just because Rebbi likes to play soccer, right?” At this point his smile was ear to ear and his face was beaming with delight. I didn’t answer him immediately, but rather smiled as if to say, “I am cherishing this moment joking around with you.” His face shone brighter as he noticed my smile. I grabbed his little chin and said, “My favorite part of the day is recess because of the spectacular smile on your face right now! Now get out of here and go run around with your friends!” At this point his shining face broke out into a full-on laughter of happiness. A laughter that only children seem to possess.

This child does not have an easy life. He is the problem-child in his house. The one that sucks the energy out of every adult in his life, parent and teacher alike. He’s also brilliant, adorable, funny, quick-witted, and tries so very hard not to get in trouble, though sometimes he makes you wonder if he’s trying at all.

Unfortunately, these traits are commonly mispronounced. Instead of “brilliant”, we pronounce it “know-it-all”. Instead of adorable, we say babyish. Funny becomes disrespectful, quick-witted turns into chutzpan, and rather than notice his effort, we complain “Why can’t you follow the rules like everybody else?!”

Jordan Peterson, a Clinical Psychologist and political philosopher, argues that it is our job as parents to try, to the best of our ability, to train our children to be “socialized by age 4.” We must teach them not to bite, not to hit, not to talk back to adults, and an array of other behavioral don’ts to make their presence pleasant to those around them. He argues that this is of utmost importance to ensure that our children aren’t plagued by nasty, unapproving looks from adults and peers as they walk about their lives.

Agree or disagree with Professor Peterson’s opinion, his concern is one we should all share. As children navigate the anxieties, stresses, transitions, and agonies of life, they often do so alone. We may believe they have our support, but do they? Do they really have our fanhood, unconditional love, and positive valuation? Sometimes it takes a hard look in the mirror to notice the ratio of positive to negative energy that our children receive at home or in our classrooms.

It’s easy to rationalize. They truly are difficult, infuriating, and incessant. They don’t know when to stop, how to take no for an answer, or what it means to be quiet. They disturb the class, bother their siblings, and disrupt the peace. They ruin day trips, spoil family pictures, and commandeer the majority of our energy.

Nevertheless, we must not make the mistake of blaming the child. The child should NEVER be seen as the problem. He is struggling, calling for help, and doesn’t know how to ask vulnerably. He doesn’t yet know how to express his shrinking self-esteem, negative self-view, and hopelessness for the future. Even as adults we struggle with this. Couple after couple enter my office presenting with the same problem. He doesn’t feel she thinks highly of him, she doesn’t feel validated, seen, understood, supported, safe. Rather than share these feelings, these fears, we flail. We shout, disparage, withdraw, pursue, curse, and say nasty things that cut deep. All of these maladaptive behaviors could have been avoided with some open vulnerable communication, but alas, I have a job, because people do not know how to communicate vulnerably.

We can’t expect more from our struggling children. The negativity that poisons a marriage usually only has one source, our spouse. For the problem-child, the poisonous negativity comes from all angles: authorities, peers, strangers, and family members.

When children misbehave, they often receive the highest level of connection that exists in their relationship with us. We lean in, give time and attention, correct, insist, direct, shout, berate, etc. This dynamic is never created intentionally, but children get paid handsomely for their negative behavior with the currency of connection. Albeit negative, unenjoyable connection, but connection nonetheless.

In contrast, after behaving according to expectations, a simple good job, or maybe a thank you, deficient of emotional investment, is what they receive in return. An incidental, ‘in passing’ expression of appreciation. Our lives are busy. We don’t have time to convey to the child the greatness they are displaying with their behavior, yet we’re never too busy for a problem. We really show up and have so much to say when things are going wrong.

Howard Glasser is a Family Therapist that was particularly bothered by the tendency toward negativity, the lack of payout a child receives from positive behavior, and the havoc this contrast wreaks on children. Glasser is the founder of the Nurtured Heart Approach to parenting and education. This approach turns the negative-positive ratio inside out.

Nurtured Heart Approach asks that parents and educators offer profound, invested appreciation for positive displays of behavior. Behaviors such as; using words to problem solve, showing respect, being kind, thinking of others, sharing, following directions, regulating from a difficult mood. No matter the child or their struggle, there are always times we can catch them acting appropriately. If in those moments we choose to connect, jump in with both feet, and sit together with the child witnessing their moment of greatness, we can set a paradigm shift in motion. We can adjust which behaviors receive the currency of connection. We can flip the script entirely. In response to positive behaviors, we have the opportunity to show real care, investment, and respect for their actions. In response to negative behaviors, we can provide matter of fact interventions that explain that a behavior was problematic without much care or emotional charge.

This approach takes much effort. It is an approach that requires conquering of our anger, hurt, and burn out the child has left us with. We must use the power of perspective to conceptualize their behavior as a cry for help. We must be strong adults and show them the positivity they need despite our petty frustration from their behavior.

We must trust our gut. Deep down we know that an abundance of positive energy would overhaul our children’s behavior for the better. But then we get nervous. We see a behavior that needs adjusting and jump on it. We become minute-by-minute educators, enforcers, and analysts. We need to stop this. We must trust what we know to be true in our hearts. More than any of the advice we have for our children, they need to feel good about themselves. They need to feel that we hold them in high esteem. They need to know we believe in them.

This is not accomplished by our words. We cannot tell a child we believe in them, and look down on them in disgust after they hit their little sister. We cannot tell a child how special they are, and then call them intolerable. We know that actions speak louder than words, but so do feelings. Our positive words will become irrelevant if we feel negatively towards our children. So next time they drive you to distraction, and test your patience, remember this message. Imagine your child’s heart begging you to see past their misbehavior and answer their call for help. Imagine them pleading, “Please, just nurture my heart. That’s all I need.”

Is Honesty the Best Policy?

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:16:12 GMT

Is Honesty the Best Policy?

Vulnerability is a word that is commonly associated with psychology. In this context, vulnerability refers to the familiar experience of being emotionally exposed to the possibility of attack or harm.

Usually, we shy away from being vulnerable. Most people aren’t quick to share their deep-rooted fears, feelings, or insecurities. Most people don’t share how much money they make, how their Shalom Bayis is doing, and which kid they are struggling to maintain a relationship with.

For the most part, this is an accurate application of boundaries. It would not be appropriate to walk around town wearing our hearts on our sleeve, divulging our most personal information to anyone within earshot.

There are, however, two relationships where vulnerability is of paramount importance.

The first of these relationships is the relationship with ourselves. Though being vulnerable is often a struggle because of the fear of judgment, it is a relevant struggle nonetheless in the inner-workings of our minds. We struggle to admit our limitations even to ourselves. We don’t like to look in the mirror and admit, “I need to take time to engage in self-care to do a better job as a parent/spouse,” or “I don’t need to complete every one of my chores before I deserve a break.” These admissions are lined with implicit imperfection. They are factors that reinforce the difficult truth, that we are imperfect and will remain as such for all of our days.

The resistance to embracing any semblance of fragility may come from multiple core fears. The fear of being conditionally loveable (loveable only when reaching the level of success or accomplishment that one should be able to attain), the fear that one’s life is like a house of cards; so unstable that one slight misstep may watch the whole thing come crumbling down, or the fear that we may be less remarkable than we’ve conditioned ourselves to believing. Whatever the case, avoiding vulnerability in this way is a form of being dishonest with oneself.

We often have the greatest of intentions with this dishonesty. We may present a dishonest representation of ourselves because we fear complacency. We may believe we are selling ourselves short, rather than shooting for the moon. These concerns are founded in reality. Complacency is poisonous. Shooting for the moon is of the utmost importance to unlock our potential. That being said, a dishonest valuation of our current struggles, needs, weaknesses, resentments, and fragilities, is obviously counter-productive. A dishonest valuation is akin to trying to jump as high as you can without your feet being firmly planted in the ground. We need to be completely in touch with where we are holding and what we are struggling with, before we can accomplish anything by reaching higher.

The other relationship that requires high levels of vulnerability is marriage. We hear time and again that communication is key. “Couples need to be willing to have the difficult talks.” “Every couple fights, but it’s about how you move on together. How you grow together as a unit.” These words are truthful, and they are important. They don’t, however, contain much advice about how to use strife to further our connection with our spouse.

Dr. Sue Johnson, a Canadian psychologist and the founder of the wildly successful ‘Emotionally Focused Couples Therapy’, has answered this question with profound clarity, and the answer lies in the power of vulnerable expression. Dr. Johnson teaches that every person has core Attachment Fears or Attachment cues. These are emotional ‘raw spots’, that when aggravated in a relationship, result in either explosive or withdrawn emotional reactions. These raw spots tend to follow a pattern between men and women, but obviously there can be a lot of cross-over.

In Women, the most common raw spots are well expressed in Western culture. Women need to be heard, seen, understood, validated, supported, and unconditionally accepted. Cherished.

The most common raw spot that a man tends to possess is his ego.

Inside every man, (or at least the vast majority), there lives a 6-year-old boy in a superman cape, daydreaming about the heroic adventures he is destined to go on. This 6-year-old boy lives on long into adulthood, and looks to impress, gain respect, and be admired by his surroundings. Most important of all, is the admiration of his wife. The rugged, macho, GI Joe wannabe that often seems to be unfazed by emotions, is a softy that needs an ego stroke on a semi-consistent basis.

When these raw spots collide, it can lead to a vicious cycle. When a wife feels unsupported and expresses dissatisfaction, the husband’s ego is hurt, thus activating his raw spot. This further distances him from behaving in a supportive manner, and around and around we go.

Dr. Johnson, after 5 decades of research, found vulnerable expression to be a major ingredient to stopping this cycle in its tracks, and used this idea to go on and develop a modality of marriage therapy with a 75% success rate with 80% sustainability.

When we fight, we fight about batteries. We fight about air conditioners. We fight about carpool. We fight about you always and I never. What’s really going on underneath your complaint? Excuse me for sounding like a therapist, but what are you really feeling? Is it just “annoying” that he won’t do carpool this week, or are you really scared that he isn’t able to see you? To see what you’re going through? To see how tired you are and step in for you, reminding you that you are supported? Does this make you scared that he doesn’t love you? Get you? Understand you? See you? If you answered yes to any of these, I guarantee that hasn’t been communicated clearly.

“But Nissan, I tell him all the time that he doesn’t care about me!”

I hear you, I really do. Why not try the following after you’ve both had some time to calm down: “When I asked you to do carpool, and you said no, I couldn’t help but feel alone. I’m sure you didn’t mean it, but I was so tired and wanted you to show me you loved me and everything was going to be OK and you had my back. When you said no and ended the conversation, I felt lonely. I know it may be unreasonable, but I’m struggling to shake this feeling.”

When she asks you to do carpool, is it really just “selfish” that she’s asking this of you? Or are you worried she doesn’t appreciate how hard you work? Are you scared that she doesn’t think your work is difficult? Are you scared she thinks you’re lazy or that your life is easy compared to hers? Are you scared that she thinks you’re not man enough because you’re supposed to do the heavy-lifting and she’s not noticing how heavy your load is?

Why not try sharing this? “When you asked me to do carpool this week, it may sound silly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that you don’t value how much I do. I felt that you don’t think I’m manly because you do so much work and I’m not there for you. I felt that you weren’t satisfied in our relationship because I don’t do enough.”

Here’s the formula: One side shares their vulnerable attachment fear, while the other listens empathetically, then validates and reassures. Then switch places.

The starting point is to realize why this is so scary. We don’t like to be that honest. It leaves us emotionally vulnerable to judgment. It sheds our protective shell and allows others (or ourselves) to see us for who we really are. It’s scary, and it leaves us feeling exposed. It challenges us to be honest with ourselves, and share that honesty with the ones we love. But in spite of our fear, honesty remains the best policy.

Keep It Simple

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:14:40 GMT

Keep It Simple

Ever get the feeling that your children aren’t listening? Don’t worry, you’re not alone. We’ve all been there. We’ve all pleaded with blank stares to finally comprehend the simple instructions we are providing. We’ve even lashed out after yet another failed attempt by our child to engage in activities according to our specific directions.

Why do children seem determined not to hear us? How dare they appear shocked when they get in trouble once again for a repeat transgression! It’s not that complicated, is it?

Unfortunately, yes, it is complicated.

The simplest reason is that our expectations are not always so succinct. We sometimes struggle to impart our message in a way that leaves both child and parent on the same page.

When a parent says, “Don’t bounce the ball,” he really means “Don’t allow the ball to do anything that may damage, disrupt, or disturb the vibes in the house.

The child missed the extended message, and proceeds to practice spinning the ball on his finger. The ball falls off his finger and damages the coffee table, leaving the family in the midst of an inevitable argument.

“I told you not to bounce the ball!”
“I didn’t bounce it! I was just spinning it on my finger!”
What the child doesn’t realize, is that the parent meant “Don’t bounce, throw, spin, catch, toss, hide, deflate, smack, or kick the ball.”

What the parent doesn’t realize, is that he didn’t say any of this out loud. It was all assumed knowledge and understanding.

A more complex reason that listening is difficult for children is that they often don’t feel safe in their home environment. No matter how much we love our children, if our emotions tend to get the better of us, they may be lacking the security necessary to absorb the information being presented to them.

This struggle is one that can be extrapolated from the well documented scientific literature on Attachment Theory. Attachment theory was originally outlined by John Bowlby in 1969, and has been developed multiple times over the last 50 years. In her book “Attachment Theory in Practice”, Dr. Sue Johnson describes the basic tenets of Attachment theory.

She describes the second core tenet as follows:

Predictable physical and emotional connection with an attachment figure, often a parent… calms the nervous system and shapes a physical and mental sense of a safe haven, where comfort and reassurance can be reliably obtained and emotional balance can be restored or enhanced. The responsiveness of others, especially when we are young, tunes the nervous system to be less sensitive to threat, and creates expectations of a relatively safe and manageable world.

Children need predictable connection with their parents. Emotional responses to ‘misbehavior’ are inevitably inconsistent. The predictable responsiveness of parents is what tunes the nervous system to expect a relatively safe and manageable world. It is what calms the nervous system and allows children to walk around their world with a safe haven they can always turn to at home in times of need.

The inverse of this tenet is disconcerting. Unpredictable connection with parents may prevent the nervous system from feeling calm, disallowing children from experiencing a safe haven in their lives. Emotional reactiveness from parents teaches children to expect a world that is neither safe nor manageable.

Is it any wonder, then, that children seem to shut down when we are emotionally dysregulated? Is it any wonder that children move into a ‘Fight or Flight Response’ when faced with an inconsistent and emotional parenting style?

The solution to this problem is the secret weapon of parenting that we have discussed in other articles: composure. Composure does more than just maintain calm in an environment, it exudes confidence, strength, and wisdom. Composed interventions provide children with the predictability they so desperately seek, while providing parents the ability to still insist on their demands being met.

Allow me to demonstrate. Imagine a 10-year-old boy that has a habit of damaging his walls in response to not getting his way from his parents. This behavior may have been caused by a long-standing cycle of negativity in the parent-child relationship. The child may feel his parents only understand how angry he is when he engages in drastic retaliation.

A typical parental response may be littered with all sorts of negativity, emotional reactivity, and dysregulation.

A composed response would look much different.

First and foremost, a composed parent would gather himself before allowing a 10-year-old to derail them and force them into a battle of wills.

Second, a composed parent will either ignore, or briefly mention, that the damage will be addressed later, and then will prioritize the child’s emotionally overwhelmed state. This reminds the child of the ‘hierarchy of emotional strength’ in the relationship. It sends the message “I am here for you, but not because of the damage you did to my property. I am here for you despite the damage you caused.” This enhances the feelings of safety in the relationship and helps a child feel reassured that they are safe and supported.

Third, after addressing the child’s emotions and allowing some time for the child to regulate, a composed parent will simply inform the child of the natural consequence of their actions. The parent will make it as clear as possible (using their tone of voice) that he gains no pleasure in giving the consequence, however it must be done.

“We have to go to the store and buy the materials to patch up the wall next Sunday. You will help me fix the wall.”

If it is too much of a burden on the parent to facilitate such an activity, the parent can inform: “We’re going to repair the damage to the wall using money from your allowance/bank account,” or “since I know it will be hard for you to pay for the repairs using your own money, you can work for $10 per hour doing chores for us around the house, and use that money to pay for the repairs.”

No matter the intervention, the next step is crucial. Without leaving any time to allow the child to feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, ashamed, or defeated, WALK AWAY. This interaction is not about revenge, it is about teaching consequences for actions. The lesson has been taught. Don’t linger to ‘help’ your child dwell on the lesson. The lesson has been learned, and if it hasn’t, by the second or third interaction like this, the lesson will surely be successfully transmitted. When we linger to make sure that they ‘got the message,’ it spikes our children’s defenses and invites them to show us how stubborn they can be. A composed parent that shows respect for his children’s discomfort after ‘misbehavior’ will create an environment where misbehavior is not a worthwhile option. No battle, no argument, no power struggle. Just a composed sense of control.

So no, we cannot assume children have understood the meaning behind our instructions. We cannot assure that our children understand the lessons behind the consequences we enforce. We cannot will our kids to feel safe in the parent-child relationship without being predictable. All we can do is remain composed. We must try our best to leave our emotions at the door; leave the “I told you so” at the door; leave the “Do you now understand…” at the door. We must realize that parenting is not so complicated. What is complicated is when we try and micromanage our children’s experience to ensure that they learn from their failures. Let us allow our children to learn from their experiences without our guidance; without our agendas. Just say what you mean, mean what you say, and remain composed. As long as we keep it that simple, our children will flourish.

No One Prepared Me for This

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:12:28 GMT

No One Prepared Me for This

“They should really give a class in high school about life, about finances, about marriage, about parenting. They should have warned me! I had no idea what I was getting myself into, with any of it!”

A class sounds good in theory, but let’s be honest, they never could have prepared us for this. No amount of frontal teaching, role playing, or interactive lesson planning would have better fortified our tolerance for life’s curveballs. The ability to absorb struggle, adapt, persevere, and then muster the strength to smile at our spouse or children, can only be learned ‘on the job’.

There’s no preparing for financial struggle. There’s no preparing for relationship difficulties. There’s no preparing for the things you learn about yourself after you get married.

There’s no preparing for sleepless months with an infant. One cannot exaggerate the sleep deprivation and inevitable grumpiness that accompanies it.

There’s no preparing for floods, bed bugs, or mold.

There’s no preparing for feeling old, feeling tired, and feeling like the best days are behind us.

There’s no preparing for disappointment, unplanned life changes, and unmet expectations.

There’s no preparing for mental illness, personal struggle, and disconnection.

And there’s certainly no preparing for physical illness R’L.

And perhaps worst of all, there’s no preparing for being convinced that EVERYONE around us has life figured out. That they are all navigating their struggles better than we are.

This is particularly difficult for those who experienced very “successful” childhoods; childhoods abundant in praise, good grades, and impressed adults. In such childhoods, we grow up believing that we can think through any problem. Study hard and the grade will come. Behave properly and praise will follow. Then life gets complicated. Our happiness becomes dependent on other people’s behaviors, moods, and tendencies.

How do we respond to being so ill-equipped? Is there a secret formula to tackle life with more force, vigor, and a higher success rate?

Unfortunately, my response is aesthetically unappealing. I do however guarantee, that when executed properly, it is greatly effective.

The answer lies in the realization that life is supposed to be this way. The façade of ‘control’ is born from anxiety. Trusting in Hashem, letting go of the unknown, and standing strong in the face of adversity, is how we live life to the fullest. Expectations are the enemy of living in the present. In the words of American author Neil Strauss, “Unspoken expectations are premeditated resentments.”

If life was predictable, it would not challenge us to be better. It would not encourage us to explore ourselves, dig deeper, and find strength we never knew we had. If life was predictable, it would be about what we accomplished by the end of our story. We are all fondly familiar with the phrase, “Life is a journey, not a destination.” We are not supposed to be ready. It is appropriate to question whether everyone is struggling “or is it just me?”

Even Yiddishkeit is allowed to be a struggle. Sometimes we feel close to Hashem, and sometimes we don’t. The key is to radically accept that this is par for the course. To believe, contrary to the speech of your negative self-talk, that everyone has good days and bad days.

“Yea, but my bad days are worse!” Perhaps, but that’s OK too. Likely, the focus on your bad days being worse than others’ is a self-fulfilling prophecy. We are plagued by self-judgment and deprecation on a moment-to-moment basis, which is the prime culprit for our overwhelming stress and exhaustion.

Yes, we have a tremendous number of important tasks that must be accomplished. Yes, we have an overwhelming to-do list that seems to never get any shorter; and yes, these tasks pop into the forefront of our minds just when we thought we’d have a minute to breathe.

But here’s the mantra: “It’s OK!” It’s OK to struggle, it’s OK to fall behind, it’s OK to feel overwhelmed. It’s OK to question how other people are holding it together, and it’s OK to believe that they must be struggling too even though we don’t see it. I’m not saying we should become complacent. Quite the contrary! Write your lists to get more organized, sticky tab your siddur to add kavanah to your Shemoneh Esrei! Learn deep breathing, search up the ‘TIPP skills’ for emotional regulation. Read parenting books, collaborate with your spouse, plan, discuss, and engage in self-care for the sake of your loved ones.

But here’s the kicker: love yourself long the way. Accept yourself along the path. Be OK with yourself while you navigate the journey. The last thing we need in our lives is the added pressure and emotional exhaustion created by negative self-assessment. It’s usually inaccurate, commonly unfair, and always unhelpful.

You may disagree with “always unhelpful”. I often hear the counter-argument that negative self-assessment is important for two reasons.

A) It keeps away complacency.

B) It provides adrenaline to accomplish the many tasks of our daily lives.

My answer to both of these is the same. An honest introspection will reveal that not only do we feel worse when we think mean things about ourselves, but our net productivity is way less. Whether it’s due to anxiety, inability to sleep because of racing thoughts and expectations, depression, irritability, or simply freezing when overwhelmed, we accomplish less in a self-deprecating state. We try and rationalize that we will navigate these negative side effects and still use the nasty judgments to propel us to be better, but the proof is in the pudding. And as a therapist, the pudding I have witnessed over the years has become vast. The pattern is consistent. Self-hate is not helpful.

So, dare yourself. Dare yourself to be OK when your house is flying. Dare yourself to be OK when it’s not going as planned. Dare yourself to be OK with letting go and living in the moment. Listen for the resistance and tell it to go away. Dare to talk to yourself the way you would want your children to talk to themselves. And in the words of Rav Yissocher Frand, “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good!”

Talking to Yourself

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:10:00 GMT

Talking to Yourself

Ever noticed the bully that lives inside our minds? The self-righteous judgment that we cast upon ourselves after we act in a less-than-perfect manner? “I’m no good. Everything is bad. It’s always going to be bad and I just have to accept that.”

This is a fundamental example of Beck’s Cognitive Triad. First proposed by Aaron Beck in 1967, this trifecta of negative self-talk is a staple of cognitive therapy. Negative views about the self, lead to negative views about the world, leading to negative views about the future. The triangle is continuous, diving to the depths of low self-esteem and sometimes depression.

Beck is most notably regarded as the father of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). The premise of CBT is that it is not our circumstances, but rather our thoughts about our circumstances, that dictate our feelings and therefore our behaviors.

Beck’s revolutionary discovery was that it is in our power to change our thoughts, thereby changing our feelings and behaviors.

When I begin therapy with a new client, I consider it important to inform them of the therapeutic interventions I will be performing. This aligns the client and therapist towards the same goals, develops the therapeutic relationship, and enhances the client’s ‘buy-in’. One part of said psycho-education I don’t enjoy is sharing Beck’s discovery. It is usually greeted with eye rolls, judgment, or a look that clearly communicates, “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s that simple, huh? Hey, I heard you’re depressed. Have you tried thinking differently?” The idea is much too simple to be taken seriously, “…and besides, it doesn’t work! I’ve tried that. I’ve tried everything!”

Here’s the problem. We can’t expect to wake up one morning good at ‘thinking differently’. Thinking differently can be more accurately described as ‘Effective Self-Talk’. Like anything else, effective self-talk cannot be executed properly on the 1 ^st , 4 ^th , or even 10 ^th try. It takes hard work and practice to learn this tool and use it in a way that impacts our lives for the better.

“OK, so what should I do? Go ahead, teach me your ways,” the client continues after their ‘buy-in’ is building, yet skeptical.

The problem is, it doesn’t really work like that. Effective self-talk requires tacit knowledge. One can only learn to use effective self-talk through attempting, failing, learning from the experience, and retrying. Let me demonstrate with the following example.

Imagine your schedule changes and your husband will be alone with your four kids every Sunday for the foreseeable future. Imagine the train wreck of a home you will likely be walking into on that first Sunday evening; the stress when considering how to write instructions. Don’t forget to include allergies, food preferences, bedtime routines, and whose pacifier is whose. Imagine stumbling over your words as you try and explain what to do when this one is fighting and what not to do when that one is fighting.

“Here are the ‘4’ diapers, these ones are 6’s, and the 1’s are in the middle drawer. The pajamas are the stretchies, not the onesies. The ones with the footsies connected to the… oh whatever. Just put her to sleep in what she’s wearing.”
This one uses the potty, that one sings before bed, and this one needs a warm bottle as you hold her, but she doesn’t like when you hold her on the couch, it’s better on the rocking chair.

This example just scratches the surface of the multitude of information that will have to be portrayed.

It sounds complicated when we write it out, but at this point you don’t find it complicated at all. In fact, it’s second nature. Consider the stark contrast of ‘second nature’ to the look of terror in your husband’s eyes as you walk out the door. You check that your ringer is on the loudest setting, and make your way to work.

Would the transition be so much easier if he was ‘taught’ all the information in advance? Maybe we just need more time to educate him about the nuanced preferences of each child. But then again, no amount of teaching can prepare someone for the surprises of parenting.

One child half way through a particularly messy diaper change, another comes in screaming, something about the spiderman doll and Esther is a meanie. Esther closely follows with a wallop to screamer’s noggin, and his response startles the infant who had just fallen asleep for the 4 ^th time. You can’t teach the multi-tasking that needs to happen next: One-armed swoop of screamer, other arm with the masterful diaper change and disposal, distract Esther, reestablish diaper on naked baby, kiss everyone, redirect towards play, and now back to screaming infant. It’s an art. An art that can only be learned through attempting, failing, learning from the experience, and trying again.

We cannot wake up one morning and be master multi-tasking parents. We cannot wake up one morning and have mastered the art of effective self-talk. Positive self-talk requires practice. It requires patience, and the humility to fail over and over again until you get the hang of it.

“I’m 45-years-old working a dead-end job. Things are never going to get better. Now matter which way I turn there’s always something that goes wrong. It’s such a disaster.”

Translation into effective self-talk:

“It’s really tough that my job isn’t as lucrative as I’d always hoped. It’s OK that this bothers me, but I’m so thankful to have a beautiful, healthy family. Jewish living is expensive, and even though it’s not always easy, nevertheless we always find a way to make it work BH.”

The first sentence is how we talk to ourselves. The second sentence is what we tell our children to say to themselves when they are struggling with something. We must analyze our resistance to being nice to ourselves. Why do we roll our eyes when considering using ‘sentence 2’? Are we worried that it will lead to complacency? That we won’t work as hard to change our situation for the better if we roll over and accept our circumstance?

Here’s a secret that I’ve found many people don’t realize. Our situation is what it is. No amount of self-hate will change it. Yet we try and try to talk down to ourselves in the hope of improving our lives. The opposite approach is 300% more effective! When we cut ourselves some slack and embrace our struggles, being nice to ourselves along the way, we grant ourselves permission to appreciate our successes. Success then breeds success, and we may just improve our lives by looking honestly in the mirror and radically accepting our imperfections. Confident people are not perfect. Often, they are far from it. They are simply comfortable and permitting of their imperfections. Permission to be imperfect is confidence.

Let’s stop settling.

Let’s stop settling for a life of talking down to ourselves, and seek a life of self-love and acceptance.

Let’s stop settling for a life of hopelessness, and reach for a life filled with gratitude.

Let’s stop settling for a life marred by negative lenses, and grant ourselves permission to see the beauty that our loved ones see in us.

All it takes is the permission to be imperfect. Permission is not easily granted. It takes many months of practice and repetition, but those months are a small price to pay for the countless benefits of self-acceptance.

You can start right now. Try it. Talk nicely to yourself. Let me know how it goes.

Kids Are People Too

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:08:02 GMT

Kids Are People Too

“In school I learned that to get respect you need to give respect! My mom shows me no respect, so why should I respect her?”

The problem with this complaint is that he’s right. That is the way the world works. Those who give respect receive respect; those who don’t give, don’t receive. It’s difficult to explain the nuances of interpersonal relationships to children. They can’t understand what obligates children, employees, and students to listen to parents, employers, and teachers.

I’m the parent! Kibud Av Ve’Aim! I’m older than you so I know more! You’re just a child, you don’t know anything! You’re so Chutzpadik! So disrespectful!

All of the above are feeble attempts to communicate a subtle message. A message that we, as adults, clearly struggle to properly articulate, as shown by the familiar comments listed. Nevertheless, it appears we believe we should be respected, no matter how we treat our children.

How can we rationalize this? Should we explain that it is because the world runs better when adults are in charge? If that’s the case, why can’t we remain in charge and still show respect to our children?

Perhaps the need for respect comes from the Torah? Hashem clearly instructs us to honor our mother and father. On the other hand, it is our children’s responsibility to follow that mitzvah, not ours to make them keep it. Just like any mitzvah, our responsibility is to teach, encourage in a calculated manner, and model proper performance of the mitzvah. The tantrum that ensues when a parent doesn’t feel respected doesn’t fit into these guidelines.

So where does our obsession with respect come from? It seems virtuous, but we must be introspective when we appear overly zealous; when our passion for ‘the right thing’ suddenly spikes in specific scenarios. In such circumstances, we must push ourselves to be intellectually honest and search our unconscious motivations.

I believe the answer is simple. Disrespect is hurtful and annoying. We don’t like it. Our fervor towards disrespectful behavior hides behind the righteous motivation of a healthy power hierarchy, but is fueled primarily by a disdain towards being treated in a less than preferable manner.

Our lives are hectic, and the last thing we need is little opinions running around hindering our plans. Our children’s feelings and needs are often inconvenient. It is understandable that we get annoyed. We try our best to remain regulated and composed, but when we bottle up our feelings of frustration, eventually, something’s got to give. That something is usually our concern for their feelings. We lash out, ignoring the impact we have on them.

We also feel hurt when our children are disrespectful. We may not like to admit it, but we are fragile creatures. Our self-esteem is commonly dependent on the opinions of others. You may find yourself scoffing at this thought, “Oh, yea! Like I care what a little kid thinks about me!” But I implore you to search yourself a little deeper. Doesn’t it feel nice when your little boy says, “Wow Daddy! You’re so strong!” Or, “Mommy, you are such a nice Mommy!” It may be uncomfortable to admit, but we want others, especially our children, to think the world of us. Disrespect sends the opposite message. When disrespected, parents may feel as though their inner value as an individual is being challenged, and again, we lash out.

“So now what? Show respect to my children as if they’re equals? There is truth to a healthy power differential! Isn’t there?”

Yes, absolutely! If William Golding’s ‘Lord of the Flies’ taught us anything, it is that children should not be left completely to their own devices.

According to the US National Library of Medicine’s ‘National Institute of Health’, the adolescent brain continues to mature well into the 20s. Children, and adolescents, are lacking maturity in their judgment. They have little experience with the ‘real world’, they don’t understand money, relationships, love, or how anyone could ever afford to buy a house! “Aren’t they like fifty thousand dollars?!”

We know about their cognitive limitations. It keeps us up at night. What kind of trouble are our children getting into? Whether they be elementary age and struggling with staying seated during Morah-time, or teenagers being pulled toward the various vices the world has to offer, we worry. So no, we absolutely cannot treat children like equals with regard to authority. We are in charge. We are their parents. They need us. They need us to be strong. They need us to set boundaries. They need us to set the example of what’s right and wrong. They need to know that no matter how hard they push or pull on those boundaries, we will stay strong and keep to our values and beliefs with conviction.

However, we can and must treat them with the utmost respect. Not the type of respect that resembles reverence, but the simple respect that should be granted every individual. The right to have feelings. The right to have opinions. The right to be heard and feel as though one’s opinion is valued. The right to make mistakes. The right to have a bad day. The right to need extra love and attention on a given day.

This requires tremendous composure and maturity. It is very difficult to navigate the hurt feelings that accompany disrespect. It requires us to step above the disapproval of our children and not be derailed by their emotional dysregulation.

It is very difficult to show respect to a child when they are irritating us. It requires perspective in the moment. It requires us to step outside of ourselves and realize we are the adults; to pull ourselves together and respond in the best interest of the child.

It may help to imagine how we would feel in their situation. Imagine being told what to do, being shushed when you have something to say, and being called a cry baby in attempt to subdue your emotions. Imagine a family discussion about where to go for dinner, and not understanding why yours is the only opinion not being considered. Imagine being shoved in a car for a road trip against your will. We don’t like being invalidated, belittled, or ignored; neither do they. We don’t like being disrespected; neither do they. It’s sometimes as simple as putting yourself in their shoes. After all, kids are people too.

No Thanks I Have My Own

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:05:54 GMT

No Thanks I Have My Own

Control is peaceful. Control is predictable. Control is safe. Parents like to control everything. The rain, lines at the amusement park, who’s having fun, how long until the next bathroom break; everything. Life would be free of obstacles if we could just control the sun, moon, and wind. At least, that’s what our subconscious wants us to believe. If we ever took a moment to consider the burden of controlling the forces of nature, we’d likely cower at the thought. Despite the overwhelming nature of control, we still crave it.

“OK, so you got me. I want to control everything. Is that so bad? To want my kids to have a good time at the amusement park! Is it so bad that I want them not to fight?”

Yes, it is bad. Simply wishing the best for them would be fine in a vacuum, but as we know, nothing comes without consequences. So, what are the consequences of this desire to manipulate the universe to make everyone happy?

The answer is unrelenting stress, overwhelming worry, and an unquenchable need for the inevitably unattainable. We cannot control the weather. We cannot make sure the newlyweds have an easy adjustment to marriage. We cannot guarantee that our children will make friends on the first day of school. We know this, it is common sense, yet we try to control the outcome of the lives of our loved ones. We stubbornly refuse to let G-d run the world as if worrying will somehow change the fabric of time and space, willing circumstances to work out more favorably.

This is called Magical Thinking. As we have previously discussed, Magical Thinking is a phenomenon in psychology in which we believe we are protecting ourselves or others with maladaptive behaviors. In depression, we believe we are forcing ourselves to be better with self-hatred. Really all we accomplish is additional sadness. In OCD, we believe we are protecting from contamination or danger with obsessive or compulsive thoughts or behaviors. All we really accomplish is an exhausting array of mental health symptoms. In anxiety, we believe our worry protects against the forces that harm. In fact, anxiety becomes more detrimental than the very harms we are protecting against. Our need to micro-manage our loved ones’ experiences has the same root. We believe the chips will only fall correctly on account of our desperate over-thinking. We oppress ourselves with the belief that we must fix it. We refuse to accept difficulty as it happens around us.

Marsha Linehan, an American Psychologist and the founder of DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy), discusses the need for Radical Acceptance. “Radical means all the way, complete, and total. It is accepting in your mind, your heart, and your body. It's when you stop fighting reality, stop throwing tantrums because reality is not the way you want it, and let go of bitterness… You have to radically accept something that you don’t have, and it’s not a catastrophe.”

When we do not practice radical acceptance, we are engaged in its counterpart: denial. We are not always able to change circumstances to make them better. Denial of this reality is what turns pain into suffering.

There is enough pain in our own lives. We fight every day to maintain our complicated regimens. From the highest-ranking business executive, to those in the middle of a downward swing struggling to get out of bed in the morning, our lives are wrought with nuances that only we fully understand. We may have support, but we often feel alone in our struggles. We can love others, care for others, and empathize with others, but to make their inner struggle ours to fix is a mistake. First of all, we are crippling the individual’s ability to grow their resilience. Resilience is not built by others fixing our problems. It is built by our support system loving and validating us while we navigate life with our own initiative. Second, we have enough of our own distress to micro-manage. Taking on the stress of others, even if they are family members, leads to burnout, resentment, enabling, and co-dependency.

In sessions, I like to teach catchphrases. Catchphrases are easier to remember in difficult moments than regular interventions. One such catchphrase that is commonly helpful is “No thanks, I have my own.”

When your adult children are fighting at the Shabbos table in front of their kids, and every essence of your being wants to put on your cape and save them from their struggles: “No thanks, I have my own.” I have my own struggles, my own difficulties, and my own acceptance to work on. I am working on embracing, and making the most of, my own less-than-perfect life. (Besides, history shows that your superhero efforts only serve to exacerbate their issues.)

When your sibling is not treating your elderly mother with the respect you think she deserves: “No thanks, I have my own.” I have my own complex family dynamics to focus on. I cannot spend emotional energy denying my lack of control over the way two adults talk to each other.

We must not use these as excuses to ignore our responsibility to validate and empathize with our loved ones. It is simply a way to notice when we are taking on another’s burden as if it’s our own when really, we should simply be supportive and empathetic.

When our children have a difficult day socially at school: “No thanks, I have my own.” I have my own hard days that I hardly know how to make better. I have my own stresses in my social life. I cannot make your social life mine to fix, or deny my inability to fix it. I can support you; I can love you; I can validate how hard it is; I can reassure you that you will be OK, and I must radically accept your struggle. I must ensure you understand that no matter what you go through, I accept you, your feelings, and your process. As far as taking on your problems as if they’re my own, “No thanks, I have my own.”

Rome Wasn't Built in a Day

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:04:14 GMT

Rome Wasn't Built in a Day

Equilibration. A term used by Jean Piaget; a Swiss psychologist known for his work on child development. Oversimplified, equilibration is the balancing of a child’s current understanding of the world with new information as it arises.

For example, a child may grow to learn that sharing is safe and fun. This was easy as a first child home alone with Mommy. Enter play-group, and the idea of sharing becomes uncertain. As the child scans the room to determine its safety level, he is absorbing clues from all angles about the new environment and what to expect. Any new information needs to be sorted out, placed, and organized. This can be done through either assimilation, or accommodation. Simply put, the child has two options. 1. Learn to fit the new information with his current understanding of life, or 2. The new information will derail his view of life, forcing him to adopt an entirely new approach.

While the child decides how to address the novel input, there is a processing stage. A stage where a child is in limbo between the options of how to understand. Piaget proposed that children go through these dilemmas constantly throughout their development.

It would follow that we need to give our children space to go through the processing stages with peace of mind. We must allow them freedom to develop their understanding of what they experience, rather than jump in and manipulate their daily lives to always be on track with our desires for them. But it’s not easy.

Every year there is a new teacher analyzing our child’s performance, a new DOE specialist informing us what we need to work on at home. They may be correct, and the suggested interventions may be effective, but the environment it fosters can be detrimental to our homes. We may embrace a ‘fix-now’ mentality, which becomes a weight bearing down on our children.

We all need to feel respected. We need to feel trusted. We need someone to believe in us. Children are no different. They struggle when we say we believe in them but our actions show otherwise. We tell them to reach for the stars; that they can be anything they want; they can be the president of the United States of America! Then they struggle to get up for Shacharis the next morning and we anxiously intervene. We act as if minyan today will decide whether they become functioning members of society. They are left with a contradiction and swiftly solve it with one of two thought processes.

The first is deciding we didn’t really mean it when we expressed our belief in them. “Parent’s just say stuff like that.” We are relegated to ‘not-trustworthy’ status. They believe we cannot be confided in, cannot be helpful, and our reassurance becomes a company line that they tire of hearing. “The real message”, they decide, “is that you don’t believe in me. Everyone else can do it, this life thing. But there’s something wrong with me and that’s why you get nervous when I’m not on my A-game.”

Their second option is especially negative because at first glance, many parents would be happy with their children receiving the message of option 2. That is, until they hear the fall out that I see every day from the havoc it wreaks.

Option 2 is to believe there is no contradiction. “They really do believe in me! I really can be anything I want! I could even be the president! So long as I wake up for Shacharis today…and tomorrow…and the next day, say please and thank you, get straight A’s, impress everyone around me, bring pride to my family, ensure the community knows I’m a good kid, and be on my best behavior when people are watching.”

This is called conditional parenting, or conditional positive regard. Conditional parenting was first discussed by Carl Rogers, an American Psychologist who was among the founders of the Humanistic Approach in psychology. Rogers is widely considered to be one of the fathers of psychotherapy, who was found to be the most influential psychotherapist in history according to a 1982 survey.

Rogers explained, “Conditional positive regard is where positive regard, praise, and approval, depend upon the child, for example, behaving in ways that the parents think correct. Hence the child is not loved for the person he or she is, but on condition that he or she behaves only in ways approved by the parent(s).”

So, what is the fallout of a message of conditional love? Rogers continues, “At the extreme, a person who constantly seeks approval from other people is likely only to have experienced conditional positive regard as a child.”

Over the years, I have seen many highly talented individuals that struggled with depression. These individuals were lauded during childhood for their talents and primarily received love in response to their impressive abilities. They grew up with ever-growing expectations set by themselves and others. They feared mediocrity, and rather chased an insatiable desire to be more accomplished in each moment than in the last.

So back to our contradiction. What should we do? Our children do need to behave appropriately. They do need to act impressively, don’t they? How do we send the appropriate message while also encouraging them to act according to our expectations?

The answer is to play the long game. Relax. Don’t take every minute of their lives so seriously. Let them be a little. Enforce your expectations through your own example and simple, composed instruction. Avoid anxious lecturing. Avoid showing them every card in your deck of worries. Believe in their ability to grow outside of your instruction. Trust that they are looking around the world and your home and developing values that you would be proud of. If you show them love and unconditional positive regard, and act according to the values that you teach, chances are your children will follow suit.

(If in spite of this your children do not follow your value system, I promise you the missing ingredient was not anxious lecturing.)

If you find yourself struggling to hold off your anxiety, consider the conclusion some have added to a quite famous saying: “Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it burned down in one.”

Though factually inaccurate, as Rome’s destruction lasted over a century, the meaning is clear. We must be wary of the damaging nature of negative moments in our relationships. They are much more powerful than their positive counterparts. We must subdue our expectation of growth from one moment to the next. Pushing our children too hard can have a much more dangerous effect than missing out on one opportunity for growth. We must learn to push our children to be the best that they can be, but do so with the long-game on the forefront of our minds.

This Means War

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 03:02:15 GMT

This Means War!

“The best defense is a good offense.” Though often attributed to Michael Jordan, this adage was first said by George Washington in 1799. It is also known as the ‘Strategic Offensive Principle of War.’

Parenting can be likened to war in its power struggle, its battle of wits, the vying for strategic position, and the fusion of physical and emotional exhaustion. Diapers, sibling feuds, noise, mess, cleaning, vomit, sleep deprivation, incessant arguments, chutzpah, embarrassing moments in public, buckling into car seats in the pouring rain or the beating sun, spilling apple juice on purpose, teenagers. Guerilla warfare at its finest.

How do we respond to sporadic attacks from children on our mental health? How do we respond to the unrelenting pressure of minute-by-minute decisions that parenting faces us with?

Slowly, deliberately, and with composure.

When we are in danger, we experience a ‘fight or flight response.’ First coined by Walter Bradford Cannon in the 1920s, the fight or flight response is a physiological reaction that occurs in response to a perceived harmful event. Our knee-jerk response is either one of fight (shout, intimidate, insist, threaten) or of flight (withdrawal). Neither of these responses are effective.

Let us take a moment to unpack the fight response and its lack of efficacy. Fight is the most common parental response. It is the inevitable battle position we embrace when faced with a disconcerting parenting circumstance. Many parents unconsciously believe that fight is parenting, and kids need to get their act together. I would argue that fight is not parenting; it is naïve, it is emotional, it lacks accountability, and it is counter-productive.

In his fascinating work “Spare the Child”, Rabbi Yechiel Yaakovson quoted the following excerpt from a symposium held with troubled youths:

“Threats don’t mean anything. Almost no one carries them out. Every kid knows that. Grown-ups threaten when they can’t get us to listen and don’t know what to do…A grown-up who threatens is just making a fool out of himself. It’s like he’s saying ‘I know that I can’t get you to listen to me, but watch out because I can beat you up. He’s just showing how pathetic he is.”

When we allow ourselves to become emotionally engaged in a situation, our interventions are no longer in the child’s best interests. Even if we emerge victorious, we have sent the wrong message. A child sees uncontrolled emotion in adults and says, “Oh yea, I can relate to that. I annoyed them so they’re getting me back. I caused pain and inconvenienced their lives, so they’re doing the same to me. It’s no different than the rules of the playground. If you bother a bigger kid, they will get you back. Grown-ups are bigger and more powerful. Note-to-self: Avoid bothering grown-ups out of self-interest.” Our intended message is lost. The only lesson learned: grown-ups have temper tantrums too.

Instead of beating our chests, intimidating, threatening, and berating, we must exude strength through composure.

In the first years of my teaching career, I learned the hard-way the fallout of becoming emotionally engaged in an argument. Classroom management was out of the question by day 2, and I found myself wasting the majority of class time barking instructions, threatening unreasonable punishments, and was emotionally drained at the end of every day.

In contrast, as the years progressed, classroom management became the status-quo, and any deviation from my expectation was a mere blip to be dealt with.

One day a new student decided to test the boundaries. He ran into the classroom early and barricaded the door. He threw markers about the room, taped my chair to my desk, removed magnets from the whiteboard, and spilled a stack of textbooks onto the floor.

When he opened the door, I announced to the class that recess was in 20 minutes. “Everyone please find your seats, and complete your work in a timely fashion so you don’t need to use recess time to complete work.” I reminded them not to allow any distractions to get in the way of their goal of finishing the work before recess, made no comment about the state of the classroom, did not acknowledge the boy’s misbehavior, and proceeded to my desk. I handed out worksheets to everyone in the class besides the perpetrator, and started the music which was their cue to begin. When the boy asked for his worksheet, I informed him he would get it when the classroom was back to the way he found it.

He returned to his desk in protest. When 20 minutes had passed, the boys handed in their worksheets and I dismissed them to recess.

The boy cleaned up the classroom, and then asked for his worksheet. After he finished his work, he joined the rest of the class at recess.

Children don’t respect us when we act like children. They respect us when we act like adults. Shouting louder, scarier, and with more resolve, is not adult behavior. It is a more developed version of ‘I’m the King of the Castle.’

To defend ourselves from the collateral damage caused by raising children, we must familiarize ourselves with the most powerful offensive tactic there is in parenting: composure. The maturity, calm, and collectedness of composure, automatically positions us at the top of the family hierarchy. Composure is foreign to children. They walk around the world unsure of its rules, unsettled as to their place in the grand scheme of things, and insecure about their safety. Not only will children respect us for acting with composure, they will benefit from nesting under the wing of a grown-up they can truly count on. A grown-up that is confident in themselves, and won’t be derailed by the actions of a child.

Do as I Say, Not as I Do

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 02:59:26 GMT

Do as I Say, Not as I Do

It’s intimidating to consider the responsibility of parenting. We know how our parents’ behavior impacted our lives, but resist the reality that we are now bestowed with the same great power of influence. We therefore must educate ourselves to be best equipped to tackle life’s parenting struggles as they arise.

In general, children land in therapy long before parents ask for help with their tactics. Parenting is not easy, at all! It demands that we attain a higher level of personal refinement. In the best of circumstances, we are unable to show the consistent patience, restraint, compassion, and empathy that our children require. Combine our natural inhibitions with life’s stressors, and we’re left in a game rigged to make us lose.

Are there any surefire techniques in parenting? Can I guarantee my child will succeed, grow up well adjusted, and attain their potential without growing to resent me?

Yes, partly. We cannot guarantee successful or well-adjusted children, because a) those terms are subjective, and b) life is hard. We can however, guarantee that our children not grow to resent us. There is something we can do to guarantee that our children are put in the best position to thrive in all facets of their life.

After World War II, scientists in the UK surveyed around 70,000 kids as they moved through their life over a 70-year period, to see how they were doing in terms of health, education, and overall thriving.

Helen Pearson, Chief Magazine Editor for the world’s leading science journal, tasked herself with interpreting the results of the research. Among the abundance of data produced by the study, Pearson was able to list an array of parental behaviors that the studies have associated with improved outcomes for even at-risk kids. It is no surprise that, “being emotionally warm, talking to (not at) children, listening to children, making it clear that you have ambitions for their future, and taking them on excursions” were associated with improved outcomes.

Warmth, love, unconditional positive regard, quality time; these are the foundations of parenting. Instruction is simply a necessary evil that must be utilized from time to time. We often get distracted by instruction and use it as our primary parenting tactic. We make comments, shout at, and berate. We state (or sarcastically imply) what we want to happen, and convince ourselves that this should influence our child’s behavior.

We are attracted to instruction as a primary parenting technique because it is easy. It is accessible. It doesn’t require much thought, self-control, or composure.

Positive body language, however, the most useful language in the parenting domain, requires effort, energy, and consideration.

OK great. So, I’ll do the positive body language thing and I’ll stop shouting my instructions all the time. I will tell my children calmy what they are doing wrong and focus more on positive moments together. Warmth, love etc. But how do they learn to behave? If they didn’t learn when I repeated myself a thousand times, why would a single calm comment attain better results?

There are two fundamentals needed to answer this question.

First, we must alleviate the pressure we put on ourselves as parents for children to change their problem behaviors immediately. We want instant results, but this desire is completely unreasonable. Adults can take decades to learn new behavior patterns. We get worried if our children don’t learn to behave better in one day.

“We just talked about this! What’s the matter with you? You never listen!” This is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The parent’s anxiety about the child not improving their behavior, harbors resentment and loneliness which exacerbates negative behavior. We must display composure and maturity, and have confidence that children will grow from their surroundings. By believing that we have to teach every single life lesson to our children, we put tremendous strain on the relationship, allowing neither parent nor child to breathe. We must believe that it is not our words, but primarily our actions that our children learn from. Which brings me to the second fundamental, educating through example.

As I mentioned above, children land in therapy long before parents ask for help with their tactics. Countless times, after seeing the troubled child for a few sessions, I schedule a family session and meet the parents as well. Low and behold, the problem behaviors the child is exhibiting mirror, or are a direct response to, the behaviors he is receiving. For weeks, I have heard how the problem child is explosive, berates his siblings, needs things to be exactly his way with no flexibility for others, and requires the undivided attention of the entire room whenever he has something to say.

Before the family session begins, I often see the parallel process between the child’s behavior and the way he is treated.

Dad makes a comment that the son didn’t get up quick enough when I opened the door to the waiting room. “No respect!”

Mom shoots an eye roll that pierces my heart; I can’t imagine what it did to this poor boy. They enter my office and inform the child that he will be sitting on what they have deemed is the least comfortable looking chair, and then the onslaught commences.

“I’m really not sure there’s any point to us being here today. He needs to straighten up, plain and simple. What are you planning on doing about his utter disrespect? Is there a way to fix this? Because it’s unacceptable! One day he’s going to get a real smack when he gives his attitude to the wrong person. Maybe then he’ll learn his lesson!”

Mom glares at Dad reminding him that this isn’t the place to talk so openly. That should be saved for the home environment where the child is alone and helpless without the support of the therapist.

It’s no wonder that this child displays a lack of respect – his parents demonstrate a complete disregard for him as an individual, and attribute no respect to his needs or feelings. They model a “my way or the highway” mentality, and are upset that he has learned to be rigid as well. He berates his siblings, probably using similar language he is used to receiving. He pines for attention, and therefore is irritable when he doesn’t have the attention of everyone in the room.

When our children act out in ways that we don’t appreciate, it behooves us to consider where they learned this behavior. We may blame their friends, we may blame our spouses, but more often than not, we are failing to set a good example ourselves. We may not be able to change ourselves overnight, but we can at least cut our children some slack when they exhibit the same behaviors that we do, rather than reproach them for mimicking us.

Children don’t only pick up our negative habits. A child from a judgmental, berating environment, may grow to follow suit, but so will a child from a loving and accepting home. A home filled with love and warmth will produce children that are loving and warm. If we treat each other with respect, our children will do the same. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the next day, but a steady amount of ‘good example’, with a consistent stream of positive body language, will guarantee our children are primed to excel to the best of their abilities. In the meantime, while we wait for this example to do its job, a little instruction, a lot of warmth, and a heavy dose of unconditional positive regard, will help our children’s world go round.

Taking Control of Your Need for Control

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 02:57:32 GMT

Taking Control of Your Need for Control

“Hey! Keep your hands to yourself! I’m talking to you Mister! Excuse me! Don’t make me count! That’s it, no Shabbos Party! What’s the matter with you? Come here right now young man!”

This is an example of a parent not in control. The parent is not in charge. Talk may be cheap, but emotional output is expensive. This child is in full control of Mom or Dad’s feelings and is winning the power struggle.

There is a common misconception that effective parenting means children listen; that they are “good kids”. This is mostly incorrect. Of course, our goal is that our children listen to us. However, our expectation that they jump into line at our command as if we are drill sergeants is unreasonable, unhealthy, and sets us up for frustration.

I recently saw the following quote:

“When people say “You’re such a good boy” it often means “You express no needs and do as you’re told.” A lot of the ‘good kids’ are anxious kids. They are the sensitive kids who sense the frustration of the adults in their lives whenever they express their needs.”

When we shout, yell, and complain to our children about their behavior, they have two options: Follow directions because their parent is getting angry, or exercise their independent instincts to ignore and stand strong.

A child who follows directions out of fear may learn to fear disappointing others as well. Besides the resentment that parenting through intimidation causes, children may learn to chase the approval of others just as we trained them to chase ours. A child who stands strong, however, may be strengthening their muscle of conviction to act as they see fit, not to be swayed by the influence of others. We would much rather our children listen to us in their youth, leaving independence and conviction to be learned at the expense of others. Wouldn’t that be convenient.

We have to help our children balance their ‘sense of self’ and their ‘need to follow authority’. This is not accomplished by shouting louder than their need to individuate. Balance is taught by role modeling. A parent that treads the line properly allows a child to do the same. If a parent manages to show the importance of listening and following directions, while also showing the utmost respect and concern for their children’s thoughts and feelings, a child will learn this balance through osmosis alone.

It is OK when our children do not listen. What is not OK is the warning signals that go off in our brain. The damaging self-talk that says, “Uh-oh. If you let him get away with that he’s never going to succeed in life. He needs to listen this instant!” This kind of thought process leads to many unnecessary power struggles in our relationships.

Parenting is all about messaging. What message is my behavior as a parent portraying to my children. It makes us uneasy to consider that our behavior is usually riddled with horrible messages.

You’re a pain. I’m sick of how you’re acting. I’m disgusted by you. You make my life difficult. I resent you. I need you to be better. When you act like this, I don’t feel proud of you.

Changing our messaging is vital to raising healthy children. It’s not easy, but is necessary nonetheless.

One of the primary responsibilities in raising children is to protect them from the dangers of life. One of those dangers is ourselves. We say mean, nasty, even vindictive things. Before deciding how to respond to our children, we must first bring ourselves to an emotional state that is capable of considering what is best for them.

Imagine a 5-year-old having a meltdown in the middle of a grocery store. This nightmare is all too realistic. People all around, baby in the seat of the shopping cart, 2-year-old reaching for oranges and shouting “Ball!”

Before we decide how to react, we must check ourselves and realize that we are in no state to respond right now. Prior to executing a complete embarrassment of a 5-year-old in public, we must take a few deep breaths, splash water on our face, or engage in some deep breathing to bring ourselves out of crisis mode and into a functional state of mind. (Search “DBT TIPP skills for crisis survival and stress tolerance”.)

In the words of Dr. Haim Ginott, a child psychologist and psychotherapist who pioneered techniques for conversing with children that are still taught today, “No parent wakes up in the morning planning to make a child’s life miserable. No mother or father says, ‘Today I’ll yell, nag, and humiliate my child whenever possible.’ On the contrary, in the morning, many parents resolve, ‘This is going to be a peaceful day. No yelling, no arguing, and no fighting.’ Yet, in spite of good intentions, the unwanted war breaks out again.”

We must preempt this war by arming ourselves with coping skills to regulate in times of crisis. We must learn to navigate stressful circumstances by looking inward, settling ourselves, and then addressing our overwhelming circumstances. If we can do this, we give ourselves a chance to parent from a reasonable state, rather than react out of emotion. If we look inside to hear some of the terrible things we communicate to our children through our body language, perhaps we will understand the dire need for these coping skills, before we damage the way our children look at themselves for the rest of their lives.

Keep it to Yourself

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 02:54:59 GMT

Keep it to Yourself

There’s nothing harder, as a therapist, than withholding a helpful comment. Over the course of treatment, defenses are active and timing is crucial, therefore interventions are calculated. At times, movie-worthy one-liners surface in a clinician’s head, begging to be executed. These carefully placed comments, questions, or thoughts, can produce colossal changes in a client’s life, just maybe not yet. It is challenging to stay silent because we all have a desire to help. Not just therapists or others in the helping professions. Helping others is the fuel that gives us all purpose, and reminds us that the world is bigger than ourselves.

Parents and Spouses struggle with this tenfold. The love one has for their family drives their need to help transform painful moments into learning experiences. Children of all ages can imitate the mantras commonly chanted by their parents. Do we spend enough time asking ourselves whether our words are helpful? Are our goals being accomplished? Maybe the fact that we always say something indicates that our messaging is off. If we are being heard, why do we need to repeat ourselves?

In 1944, John Bowlby, a British Psychiatrist, published the very first paper on Family Therapy entitled, “Forty-four Juvenile Thieves”. He theorized that children come into the world biologically pre-programmed to form attachments with others, because this will help them to survive. He attributes survival to emotional connection. In the 1930’s and 40’s, orphaned children in the halls of American Hospitals died in droves, lacking only touch and emotional contact.

Touch and emotional connection are prerequisites for survival, like food, water, & oxygen. What happens when someone threatens our survival? Threatens to take away our water supply, food, or oxygen?

For some reason, a child in distress triggers our instincts to provide instruction. We impart insight that will ‘prepare’ our children to handle this struggle in the future. We rationalize our thinking with the idea, “Rather than give a fish, we must teach our children to fish for the rest of their lives.” So, we teach, inform, instruct, direct, dictate, illuminate, & educate.

In their most vulnerable moments, children do not need directing. They need their most fundamental needs met. They require touch and emotional connection. There is nothing worse than the deprivation of a primal need, and when a child is deprived, they will push, kick, scream, and find other creative ways to act out, flailing for survival. This behavior then calls for more instruction, leaving less time for connection. Their impoverished love tank causes them to double down on their pushing, kicking, and screaming behavior, and in the words or Dr. Sue Johnson, around and around we go. This spiral is common, unhelpful, and preventable.

When we do not connect with our children over their struggles, we are robbing them of the optimal response; a supportive, validating message from a loved one. “I’m so sorry. You’re experiencing something really difficult. It is OK to feel how you feel. Your feelings make sense. Your reaction is valid. I accept your emotions. I understand how you feel, and yet I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you. I love you; I’ve got you, and everything is going to be OK.”

Connecting, rather than teaching, is difficult. It requires composure. It requires confidence in our children that they have the capacity to develop outside of our instruction. It requires vulnerability. Talking about feelings isn’t easy for everyone, but for our children’s sake, we must push that boundary to give them the emotional support we once coveted as children.

Connecting requires the ability to stay quiet when the thought that pops into our head invites disconnection. It requires keeping certain comments to ourselves.

“I told you so.”

“Why were you late? Did you get lost?”

“If your head wasn’t attached, you’d lose that too.”

These ‘fun’, ‘innocent’, nonchalant lines send all sorts of messages. These comments are often born out of the discomfort of not knowing how to improve our child’s behavior. We ‘drop a line’ as if they’ll get the message and figure it out from there. With a little introspection, we’d be embarrassed at the types of things we have tried to accomplish with these silly, hurtful, little lines.

There is a mysterious wisdom that accompanies silence. Those who choose their words carefully, sparingly, often appear to know something that the rest of us don’t. That’s because, often, they do. There is a maturity in silence; a maturity in realizing that it may not be a good time. There is a confidence in understanding the saying: If you have nothing good to say, don’t say anything at all. This is not another saying to be used to educate our children. If we did a better job of exemplifying this quote, it would never need teaching. If our children were the beneficiaries of us calculating our words, taking their feelings into account, to do so for others would go without saying. The best education, is example.

When our children approach to complain about their day, let us take a minute to live with them in their struggle. Try not to run away from their pain, as it will only teach them to run away from it as well. Resist the urge to remind them that if they’d simply “grow up”, they would feel better. Imagine your spouse telling you to grow up and get over it the next time you have a hard day at work.

Imagine we save the teaching moment, and rather take advantage of the opportunity to connect. Imagine the relief children will feel when we welcome their emotions. Imagine a world where we spend less time teaching, more time connecting, and allowing our actions to speak louder than our instructions.

Curb Your Compassion

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 02:52:26 GMT

Curb Your Compassion

As we watch our children grow, we become accustomed to their abilities, no longer impressed by the simple things they learn to do over the years. Their once impressive feats formerly resulted in parents flaunting “Isn’t she advanced?!” Now, their achievements have transformed into expectations that are to be met at all times. As they mature as individuals, our forecast for their behavior becomes more nuanced, complex, and rigid.

It seems our younger children can get away with just about anything. We use compassion to rise above frustration and parent with composure. We use compassion to validate and understand them. We use compassion to sit on the floor and play tirelessly boring games of “push the train in a circle around the track again”. Our compassion is a G-d-given gift to our children. Compassion changes diapers at 2, 3, and 4 in the morning. Compassion keeps putting noodles on the high-chair in hopes that one will make it to the mouth and not the floor. Compassion engages in deep-breathing, while spraying carpet-cleaner into the couch, and using a hard-bristle brush to rub out orange marker.

How does this core ingredient gradually vanish? Wouldn’t it follow that as children’s lives complicate, their margin for error should increase, not decrease? Why then does our composure, our patience, seem to dwindle as they grow up.

The first step to answering this question is acknowledging the loss of control a parent experiences when their child’s life complicates. As a child travels the psycho-social stages of development, a parent’s sense of safety is challenged, as they come to terms with the subtleties that now govern their role as parents.

It’s scary to parent toddlers, and more so to parent elementary school children. Teenagers are infamous for being difficult to parent, and balancing parenting vs. freedom for young adults is possibly the hardest stage of all. At each stage, numerous times a day, parents may be left wondering if they’re doing the right thing, or if there even is a right thing. Is there any way to parent that guarantees a child’s success? We don’t know of one, yet we plague ourselves with stress and self-judgment.

So, what happens to our compassion? It gets displaced, rerouted, and attempts to intervene in our children’s lives and assist us as parenting becomes more difficult.

We are nervous for our children. We are worried about their futures. We fear how their circumstances will impact their lives. Our compassion wants to help, but we ignore their current need for support, validation, unwavering love, and understanding, to replace it with something else. We replace compassion with compassionate insistence. We insist that they improve their behavior lest they ruin their chances at a successful future. Then we repeat ourselves again, and again, and again, never pausing to recognize the hurdles our children are struggling to negotiate.

We insist they improve their grades, but maybe they’re trying their hardest. We insist they try harder, but maybe they don’t want to. Maybe they don’t understand why they should. Maybe their teacher is mean to them. Maybe they are made fun of by classmates. Maybe they struggle with debilitating anxiety because their parents hover over their every move.

We insist they keep their room clean, but maybe they aren’t so good at that. We insist they not be Chutzpadik, but maybe they’re not quite sure what that word really means. This is not to say children should have free reign of their lives. As we have discussed, children need guidance, rules, structure, and expectations to flourish. However, we must be careful of the environment we are creating in our homes. If our homes are dominated by insistence, our children may be choking under the pressure.

Insistence is an ineffective substitute for compassion that is born out of worry. It only accomplishes distance, leaving a child feeling lost and alone. Yes, our insistence may be born out of compassion, but it would serve us well to curb our compassionate insistence, to make room for true, unadulterated compassion; the kind of compassion that brings our children closer, encourages connection, and sends the message that we are with them no matter the struggle. If we manage to foster an environment of unconditional acceptance, we will find there is less need for insistence, as our children will feel more respected, and look to us for guidance.

It's the Hard-Knock Life

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 02:50:39 GMT

It's the Hard-Knock Life

Life can be hard. So hard. Everyone has their own story, and no one feels understood in their struggle. The examples are endless, and no less devastating than one another. A difficult child, a sick spouse, an over-bearing parent, the loss of a loved one, financial struggle, self-deprecation, suffered abuse, trouble in shidduchim, destroyed reputation, commitment difficulty, an over-shadowing sibling, a learning disability, judgmental home environment… each a catch-phrase that cheapens the desolation it causes.

These circumstances are more than catch-phrases to those living them, and we are all living them. No one is free of difficulty. There is no age, no demographic, and no socio-economic status that receives a get out of jail free card.

Pain is real. Pain is raw. Pain is deep. The strenuous realities of life are endless, exhausting, and sometimes leave people wanting to do nothing else but climb into bed and wait until everything goes away.

One of the many blessings of life is connection. The relationships we form with other people are vital to our mental and emotional wellbeing, and really, our survival. We have an inherent desire to be close to other people. When we go through pain, our essence is pining for closeness, for support. Each of us reach out for support in different ways, and support looks different for each giver and receiver, but the common denominator is the desire to navigate tough waters together.

Too often, our loved ones reach out for support only to be met with resistance. We can relate to the resentment this causes, as we too have experienced the loneliness of not feeling validated. Where does this resistance come from? What obstacles lie in the way of properly empathizing with the ones who need us most?

There are three primary impediments. The first is simple, we don’t want the ones we love to be in pain. We all experience the cognitive distortion that telling people not to feel pain will help them feel better. It’s a lie, but we prefer to give it credence than cope with the angst of watching children, spouses, or friends in pain. We say things like “Look on the bright side…”, “Think of it this way…”, or our favorite, “Why don’t you just…”. Telling people to feel better is an epidemic which is responsible for disconnection in many of our interpersonal relationships. Husbands, wives, children, employees, parents of adult children, students, and elderly clients complain of the suppressing nature of a relationship that doesn’t allow space for free emotional expression. This dynamic is particularly damaging to spouses and children. Validation is the art of ensuring another person that their emotional experience is understandable, reasonable, acceptable, and of course, valid. An environment bereft of validation is just the opposite. Our families will learn that their emotional experience is not understandable, not reasonable, unacceptable, and invalid. What has a person left to do if the deepest parts of themselves are considered unacceptable and invalid to their family members. We rely on our family to be unconditionally loving and understanding. We rely on them to accept and love us for who we our despite our flaws and struggles. Where then, do we have to turn, if our husbands, wives, mothers, or fathers send us the message that they do not accept our feelings? We are left with two options:

a) Turn away from ourselves, denying the presence of unwanted emotion, and saving face with a smile that is convenient to those around us.

b) Turn away from our families, and find other circles that consider us acceptable, understandable, reasonable, and valid.

The second obstacle is not registering that we are needed. Commonly, couples seek counseling complaining of essentially the same thing. Both husband and wife are hurt that their spouse is not “there for them.” Their needs are not being met. They are not experiencing the warmth and comfort that accompanies being supported by their other half. Though both sides complain of the same thing, neither side can see the other’s point of view. It’s staggering to consider, but when our loved ones ask for help, we simply may not hear them. They may not say “I need you,” but one who listens with sincerity and care can hear the underlying message of a plea for relief.

The last obstacle is empathy itself. Empathy is difficult. By definition, empathy requires one to feel with another. Empathy requires us to explore ourselves and tap into deep parts of our heart that can relate to someone’s struggle. We don’t always want to feel struggle. Our lives are riddled with perplexity. After a long day, we long to open our front door, kick off our shoes, put our feet up, and bask in the glory of unwavering love as we embrace the serenity that is home. Instead, we step on a dirty diaper, or a train set, or a pile of notebooks. We have bills to pay, paperwork to catch up on, and family time that never quite feels like enough. The last thing we need, it would seem, is to turn on our empathy and allow our family to trudge us back through the mud as they recount the most difficult struggles of their lives. Therefore, when loved ones reach out for support, our subconscious waves the white flag, and simply says “No thank you, I’m spent. Please feel better yourself.”

The cure to this epidemic contains two ingredients.

1: We must invest time and energy in our future. We must inject vigor into our relationships as often as possible. We must strengthen ourselves to push through exhaustion and “be there” for each other. It will be difficult, but it is exponentially easier than reckoning with the fallout from not doing so. Counterintuitive as it may be, disconnection is far more taxing and time-consuming than connection.

2: We must not be afraid of our loved ones’ pain. We must learn to embrace feeling sadness while we support them. We must remember that we are not helping by telling them how to feel. As Dr. Brene Brown said, “Rarely can a response make something better. What makes something better, is connection.” Dare yourself to sit with your loved ones while they are hurting. Challenge yourself to send the message “I’m sorry, you’re going through something really difficult and I don’t have a solution, but I love you, I’m here with you, and I’ve got you.”

All I Ask...

Tue, 02 Apr 2024 02:45:10 GMT

All I Ask...

Patience: “The capacity to accept (or tolerate) delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.”

That’s parenting in a nutshell. Then again, it’s also marriage, dealing with parents as an adult, etc. Patience is crucial, but also mysterious. Is it patience when a teacher goes red in the face trying not to scream at today’s troubled student? Is it patience when we walk away from conflict in marriage, harboring resentment for a later date? Is it patience when we see our children fighting and walk away rather than ‘getting involved’?

Sometimes what appears like patience leaves the parent, teacher, or spouse developing a hernia from over-exertion.

The more I work with parents and couples, the more apparent it becomes that we want from our spouses exactly what our children want from us. Love, support, unconditional positive regard, patience, validation, empathy… these are necessary components for a healthy relationship.

“All we ask is that he pick up after himself, keep his room clean, not bother his little sister even if she walks into his room and spills cheerios on the floor, get his homework done on time, behave in class, go to sleep on time, not shout when he gets upset, and not complain that he has a sore throat as we’re running around like lunatics in the morning to get to the bus on time.” Then Mom, who each week has a new list between “All we ask…” and the end of her tirade, looks at me with sincere pleading eyes, and concludes, “Is that too much to ask?”

The answer is yes, but not because the content is excessive, rather because the approach is suffocating. “We are so patient with him! We rarely scream but he never does any of the things we’re asking of him.”

I find myself feeling suffocated observing these communication patterns week after week. Mom and dad explain that the goodness of their hearts inspire them to provide the array of instructions. “He really can be so special one day, if only he’d just understand… And he needs to understand…” The child surrenders to the battery of complaints, wanting to be anywhere but here. Mopey eyed and defeated, he looks down to his shoes and answers, “Sorry, I guess I’ll try better.”

Not screaming is not patience. It’s better than screaming (unless it gets bottled up into a goliath scream later on), but it’s still not what we are looking for in an optimal relationship.

The same is true in marriage. We often think we are exhibiting patience by not getting angry. If our spouse feels judged, pressured, or not accepted, we have not shown patience, we have merely suppressed our impatience for a little while, empowering it to take center stage at the core of a vengeful behavior later on in the relationship.

Patience is understanding. Understanding that people are different than you. Understanding that your wife may have to change again, in spite of what time it is, and yes, she knows what time it is. That’s why she’s so stressed, and you’re not helping! Understanding that you don’t understand what the big deal is, and it’s still a big deal.

Patience is acceptance. Accepting that your husband does not know what you’re thinking, even though you want him to. Accepting that he is trying really hard even though you don’t see it. Accepting that he still loves you even though he brought out the cookies in a Ziploc bag, in front of company!

Patience is accepting that your son is giving it his all, even though you think he should be doing better. Children don’t enjoy disappointing their parents and teachers.

“So why doesn’t he fix it?! He’s acting so foolish! I don’t get him!”

You’re right, we don’t get him, but let’s not allow our inadequate comprehension to be the impetus for a ridiculous conclusion, that he’s doing it to himself on purpose.

Patience is leaving your plans and expectations at the door, and replacing them with humility. Patience is being humble enough to see that your way is no better than their way, their needs no less important than your needs, and their faults no less acceptable than yours.

Patience is understanding that Hashem runs the world, and hand-picked this struggle, this moment, for you.

In a world where children could articulate their thoughts accurately, we would be swiftly stopped in our tracks.

“All I ask is that he pick up after himself, keep his room clean, not bother his little sister even if she walks into his room and spills cheerios on the floor…”

“I hear you mom, and have no problem with all of your rules. I’m struggling to breathe a little bit because you’re suffocating me with your approach. Please back off a little and let me figure it out my way. All I ask, is that you love me and accept me the way I am. Allow me to grow at my own pace. Allow me the freedom to not get it right on the first try. Allow me to breathe, and I will have so much easier of a time respecting your wishes.”

Next time you find yourself “patiently” suppressing your anger, take a moment to redirect your energy into seeing the perspective of your spouse or child. Don’t waste your strength battling frustration as it surges to the surface. Instead, pull yourself aside, and engage in self-talk. Challenge yourself to see this story from the other’s point of view. Imagine, for just a moment, that your way is not the only way.

I Want to Be Miserable

Wed, 12 May 2021 17:02:26 GMT

It takes a lot of courage to move on. We don’t want to. We are not interested in cutting slack to those who have hurt us, and they have hurt us. Maybe unintentionally, but they should have known better, we think.

There’s a concept in psychology called resistance. Resistance comes in many forms, one of which is the aversion to feeling better. We don’t want to feel better; we want to feel sad, hurt, and angry.

A study was conducted demonstrating that “facial action influences the perception of emotional faces and biological motion stimuli”. Simply put, smiling makes you happy, frowning makes you sad. According to the journal “Experimental Psychology”, a smile – even a fake smile, can have a positive impact on your mood.

The truth is, we don’t need “Experimental Psychology” to teach us this, we’ve heard the idea before. We’ve been taught this concept countless times, which begs the question; How many people have you seen smile to get out of a bad mood? No one uses this simple trick to improve their mood. Why?! Shouldn’t we see people walking around with over-sized smiles on their faces, trying to rid themselves of chronic grumpiness?

Obviously, people would rather wallow in their misery than improve their frame of mind. When people walk into my office, their goals and my goals are quite different. Clients want me to change their situation; I can’t do that. As a therapist, the most important question I want to explore is why you don’t want to feel better. I can’t ask this question right out, as people’s defenses are flammable, ready to erupt at a moment’s notice. We have to subtly explore patterns of behavior, communication styles, and interpersonal relationships to expose the truth.

So why? Why don’t we want to feel better?

Unfortunately it depends. There is no universal answer to this question, but there is a superficial answer that will get us part of the way there.

Just this week I was driving on the Van Wyck, when a red Chevy cut in front of me. I was pretty frustrated and apparently followed the car closer than was appreciated because the driver short-stopped, screeching to a stop in front of me as a warning.

In an instant, my heart was on fire, burning with anger, I had to do something.

“He can’t get away with this. I’m going to roll down my window and say something to him…or her. Hmm, didn’t think of that, not sure I’d feel as comfortable rolling down my window to intimidate a woman. Or maybe it’s a 6’4” he; that wouldn’t be good either. Or what if he’s a gang member? Or has a gun? Either way I’m wearing a suit, running late to a session, and put on a few pounds since marriage, all reasons not to get into fisticuffs.” Before I’d finalized my plan for retaliation, the Chevy sped off towards the Grand Central, leaving me to mull over my thought process until exit 11.

I was fuming. I tried to calm down, but couldn’t.

“Relax Nissan, he’s gone, is a nincompoop, and doesn’t deserve your attention.”

“Yea, but how can I let him get away with this?”

As I processed that sentence, I observed my resistance to feeling better. There is justice in feeling angry. I had somehow decided that feeling angry at nincompoop was exacting justice.

Was it though? He was still on the Grand Central, had probably short-stopped in front of some other chump, and thinks quite highly of his driving abilities. I, on the other hand, was a mess. Livid, distracted, and oblivious to the Odyssey that stopped as the light on Park Drive East turned red. I slammed on my breaks just in time.

“Nincompoop’s fault” I thought.

In Psychology we call this “justice” Magical Thinking. Magical thinking is a concept that can be found at the root of many day-to-day struggles we experience. It presumes a causal link between one's inner, personal experience and the external physical world. This means we engage in self-destructive thought processes, thinking that they are protecting us, when in-fact they are doing the opposite.

We get angry to exact justice, but only hurt ourselves in the process.

We feel anxious to protect from disaster, but anxiety wreaks havoc that surpasses our initial worry or fear.

This is often the key to understanding our resistance. There is a flawed thought process, a “cognitive distortion”, dictating how we feel. If we seek out the miscalculation, the results can be significant.

If we want to enjoy our lives, have fulfilling relationships, and bring up healthy children, we must expose our resistance. The place to start is with a little introspection.

Why don’t we want to accept our children’s challenges at school? What are we afraid of? Is the way we protect them from their futures causing more damage than the future we’re afraid of?

Why do we struggle to embrace our spouses’ personalities, shortcomings and all? What are we frightened of? Are we holding on to the fallacy that not accepting them as they are will somehow change them? This seems counterproductive, as people are known to thrive in environments where they are accepted, loved, and held in positive regard.

Why are we slow to forgive, adamant to remain with our feet firmly planted in the mud? We don’t win by holding a grudge. We feel the pain of strife and conflict, even when we are the ones holding it in place. Do we think we are winning? Are we teaching a lesson to the offender? No! There is zero lesson taught during machlokes. Everyone loses, yet everyone engages.

It’s wild to consider, but we think we are acting in our best interests, and are doing just the opposite.

Let us take stock of our inner thought process, dig deeper to understand ourselves further, and use what we learn to improve our lives, and the lives of those around us.

Takes One to Know One

Wed, 05 May 2021 16:57:24 GMT

“When I’m older, I’m gonna let my kids do whatever they want! Parents are so annoying!” This is a direct quote from my childhood. A recurring quote. My closing remarks to almost every argument I had with my parents. Then I walked away, my angry face wincing in frustration. I made sure to walk away at an angle that allowed my parents to see the disapproval emanating from the corners of my cheeks as I made my exit.

The frustration of feeling misunderstood is one that we can relate to no matter our stage of life. It is usually accompanied by resentment, infuriation, and disappointment in the perpetrator. Almost universally, children believe parents don’t understand their struggle. From their perspective, adults live the life. We can go to the bathroom without asking permission and have a snack at our desks even during work time. We go to recess whenever we want, and have unfettered access to the bottomless credit card. We have no bed time, no screen time limits, and can eat junk food before dinner. We drive a superpowered go kart to work, where we get to sit at a computer all day! No one makes us write apology letters or tells us to make our beds. We certainly don’t have to chew with our mouths closed.

We cannot expect to be patient parents without relating to this imagery. So often we encounter circumstances with our children that are overwhelmingly frustrating. In these moments, awareness of the child’s perspective is what pulls us through.

We need to enter the child’s world to parent, teach, educate, and guide him appropriately. We need to remember what it was like as a child to feel the contempt of others when our needs were inconvenient. We need to remember the confidence in our opinions, and the bewilderment when others disagreed. We need to remember how it felt to know that classmates found us irritating. We need to remember trying to get our parents attention, yet feeling ignored because others had their concentration. We must remember the pain of coming second to an electronic device.

We need to remember the sinking feeling in our hearts when looked down on with disapproval. We must never forget the loneliness that accompanied first days at school, being picked up last from play group, and long nights scared of the dark.

We must recall the isolation of feeling picked on by classmates, siblings, and even teachers. Most importantly, we must think back to the anguish at the times when our parents’ words were the ones that cut deep, laying waste to our self-esteem.

Simply put, we need to remember what it’s like to be a kid. We need to remember the innocence, the vulnerability, and the dependence of childhood.

How do we do this? With all of life’s distractions, how do we have the wherewithal to travel so far back in time and remember what our children are experiencing?

The best solution is to ask them. Give them an opportunity to invite you into their world, and then listen. Listen carefully. Ask questions that show you are interested. Be interested. Hear their feelings, empathize with their experience, and help them feel safe to share.

You may be wondering what to do if you’ve tried this already. “Every day I ask my son “How was your day?” His response: “Good.” I don’t understand why all he gives me is a one-word answer.” This is a common difficulty parents experience.

The answer is frequently quite simple; we ask with an agenda. Contained within “How was your day” is a slew of 2nd and 3rd level questions that children understandably don’t want to expose.

“How was your day? Did anyone bother you? Do I have to call anyone’s mother? Are you up to date with your work? Do you have any homework? Did you have any negative feelings today? Can I teach you how to avoid having that bad feeling with “Sticks and stones may break my bones…”? Are you improving socially? Maybe you want to have a friend over?”

Children don’t want to be helped all the time. They pine for our attention and validation, but we offer something that looks similar, smells similar, but tastes significantly different.

To circumvent this concern, it behooves us to weed out our agenda and inquire about their life for no reason other than to connect. To understand your precious child at their core, and explore how they feel so that you can experience it together with them. Watch how your relationship develops, and witness the exponential growth of your child’s emotional expression.

The transition will not happen overnight. Children will explore this new behavior pattern to see if they can trust it. They may continue to brush you off for another couple of weeks until they feel secure in their perception of the feedback loop. Perseverance will be necessary, conviction is vital, and as I will repeat time and again, composure is a must. Composure is the ingredient that subtly maintains an appropriate power hierarchy in a parent-child relationship. It exudes strength, safety, warmth and wisdom.

We may worry that we can’t relate to our children anymore, but not so long ago we were children too. Believe that you can connect with your child. After all, it takes one to know one.

Your Kids Need You. So Back Off

Wed, 28 Apr 2021 16:04:37 GMT

Our children drive us crazy, right?! Or is it the other way around. The onslaught of “No! Don’t! Why did you… If only you would… Can’t you just…” is nonstop. Yes, we are their parents. It is our job to set them straight. But are we conscious to take into account whether we are pushing them off the path we so desperately desire for them?

We are ignorant to the fact that children are people too. They have real emotions and get annoyed by the same things that annoy us. Imagine someone correcting your every move. “Don’t touch! Why did you do that? How many times have I told you? Why don’t you get it yet? What’s the matter with you…?” Such relationships leave people struggling to breathe under the pressure of scrutiny. It’s no easier for children. There is nothing in their DNA making them impervious to the suffocating dynamic of constant advice and correction. They loathe this behavior just like the rest of us, only we are often the guilty parties in suffocating them.

The question parents always ask me is, “So what should I do? She’s a kid! I can’t just let her do whatever she wants because I’m scared of hurting her feelings or being annoying!” They’re right. It’s quite clear to see when analyzing the opposite extreme of the parenting spectrum. In the last number of decades, a new form of parenting has arisen. “New age” parents can be found coddling children, scared to say no because it may hurt their self-esteem. This ill-informed approach leaves children without boundaries, without direction, and without the sense of safety and security they so desperately desire. These parents are scared of being hated. Always looking for affirmation that their children are thankful to have them as parents. Power is awarded to the child, as they quickly learn that they have control over their parents’ feelings. This backwards power hierarchy leaves the children in charge. But that obviously won’t do!

A few years ago, there was a video circulating on social media relating bringing up children to getting on a rollercoaster.

It’s Chol Hamoed, pre-COVID, and Six-Flags is packed. You’ve been waiting in line for an hour and a half for the ride your 10-year-old promises, “is the best in the whole park!” Hesitant, you climb into the car after “16-year-old Summer Job” allows you past the string and chain, executes a PVC pipe height check on your child, and reminds you to take off your jewelry.

In under a minute the cars are full and Summer Job is walking in your direction to pull the over shoulder bar down to protect your life. As he gets closer, your confidence in your decision to board this upside-down train is beginning to waiver. As he slams the bar over your shoulder and into your lap, you’re past the point of no return. Grasping the bright yellow protective bar with both hands, you push, pull, yank, twist, and heave the bar. Do you want that bar to move? To bend under the pressure? ABSOLUTELY NOT! This act of aggression is to determine your safety.

This is precisely what our children are doing when they test us. When my son was about 18 months old, he discovered the toilet. He had walked over to the bathroom door and pushed it open, toy in hand. I was on a call with a parent from my class as I followed him to the bathroom, still engrossed in my conversation. When I turned the corner, he had propped up the toilet seat ever so slightly, was holding the toy through the gap, and was watching me with a sneaky grin on his gorgeous little face. He waited for me to react. At first, I didn’t say anything, and he waited. I excused myself for a moment, put my phone on mute (because G-d forbid a parent hears their son’s Rebbi having a human parenting moment at home) and said “Hillel no! Don’t drop it in the…”

Plop.

Giggle.

Cheeky grin.

“Catch me!” and he ran, looking back to make sure I was still playing.

It’s no surprise that toddlers test us. After all, they’re still figuring it all out. But older elementary age children and teenagers are the same in this regard. They’re still trying to “make sense of it all”. They want to know where they stand, know what they’re allowed to do and what they’re not allowed to do. We mistakenly think we’re not supposed to disappoint them, but we’re wrong. It’s OK if they get upset. Just be strong. Be loving. Be understanding. They will come around, but more importantly, they will feel secure knowing they aren’t in charge.

Our children need us. We are their safety. They are born into a world they don’t understand and look to us to guide them. But they also look to us to believe in them and give them space. What kind of message are we sending our children if we anxiously watch their every move? We must allow our children the privilege of failure. After all, looking back on our own lives, our failures and struggles are what taught us most. Ironically, these failures and struggles happened despite our parents’ anxious efforts to protect us from pain and hardship. We mustn’t let our fear become an obstacle for our children’s healthy development.

As parents we can often feel lost. Advice comes from all angles, often unsolicited. Everyone is an expert, but nobody is confident in their own approach. Struggling to deal with our own issues, while grappling with patience vs self-care.

So, what should we do? As with everything, parenting is a balance. We need to toe the line between setting boundaries and giving space for growth and exploration. The best place to start is with a little soul searching. Which parent are you? Do you find yourself giving in to avoid conflict, scared of upsetting your children? If that’s the case, give boundaries a try. Don’t sweat it if they get upset, they’ll be OK. Just ensure you follow the advice from above: Be strong. Be loving. Be understanding. But then put your foot down and calmly keep it there until things go your way! No ifs ands or buts about it! Empty threats and beating your chest to intimidate are exercises in futility. Composed follow through, however, will get you results.

Be strong: Say what you mean, mean what you say, and follow through so it’s clear that you mean it.

Be loving: Make it clear to your children that even though you are asking them to do something they are unhappy about; you love them unconditionally. This is a topic for a much broader discussion, but the message of unconditional love is sent through your eyes, heart, and body language. Not just words.

Or maybe your soul searching exposes your correcting personality. Does the term controlling feel uncomfortably relevant to your parenting style? In this case, experiment in the opposite direction. See what happens when you back off a little. Do things really turn out as calamitous as you’d predicted? Is the house really a disaster beyond repair if you allow the 8-year-old to serve the ice cream? Or is it as simple as a wet cloth and a shpritz of “Fantastic” to bring you back to tip-top shape?

Whatever the case may be, the key is to search yourself, identify your weaknesses, and be better tomorrow than you were today.

Family Matters

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