My daughter often wears a familiar expression that I have come to recognize. It’s subtle yet profound—a blank, carefully curated mask that hints at the turmoil brewing beneath. This look signifies her struggle to suppress emotions she has labeled as “bad,” all while trying to maintain a facade of normalcy. It’s as if she feels the need to escape from her true feelings, which seem too dark, too frightening, or too sorrowful to confront.
There was a time when I might have overlooked this expression, consumed as I was by my own attempts to appear fine. Worse still, I sometimes noticed it and chose to look away, feeling relieved that she was masking her feelings. I found it challenging to even acknowledge my emotions, let alone bear the weight of hers.
I grew up in a household where feelings were expressed but rarely discussed. Our emotions were bottled up until they erupted, shattering the illusion that everything was fine. Anger, tears, and accusations would fly during these outbursts, leaving everyone wounded. Afterward, there was no reflection, no accountability, and certainly no apologies. We were left to mend our wounds alone while putting on a brave face. Without dialogue about our feelings, there was little opportunity for healing, and the cycle continued.
The idea of expressing emotions without directing them at loved ones was foreign to me until I reached graduate school. I learned the importance of listening without jumping to solutions, creating space for sadness, anger, and grief. I began to practice these concepts with my clients, yet at home, I never thought to apply the same principles in my parenting.
When my daughter experienced distress, I instinctively tried to fix it, soothe it, or sometimes, I grew frustrated and withdrew. If she expressed anger, I often reacted with anger of my own. I would rush to conclusions about her feelings rather than truly listening to her. Although I attempted to apologize afterward—one positive lesson from my upbringing—I never considered that I could simply allow her to feel sad, angry, or scared without trying to change those emotions.
As parents, we are conditioned to soothe our children. We bandage their wounds, calm their fears, and wipe away their tears, believing we are fulfilling our duties. While some of this is indeed vital, our kids also need space to cry, to yell, to feel sad, and to experience fear. They require the opportunity to genuinely process these emotions rather than rushing to distract them with activities or reassurances.
This understanding didn’t come to me until I was already on my parenting journey. A household where it’s acceptable to feel sadness, anger, or fear is not something I experienced growing up, nor have I seen it widely modeled in society. We often shy away from discomfort, suppressing feelings and teaching our children to do the same.
Now, when I see that familiar expression on my daughter’s face, I pause, regardless of my schedule. I ask her what’s bothering her. At eleven, she may not always share immediately; sometimes she needs time to process her emotions. I understand that in the past, I may have inadvertently taught her that expressing feelings wasn’t safe.
I strive to be patient, reassuring her that it’s safe to express her thoughts and feelings. I remind her that acknowledging and discussing emotions is essential for healing. I reflect on moments when holding her feelings in led to outbursts from both of us, and I encourage her to talk about what’s troubling her.
When she opens up—whether it’s about feeling lonely, scared, or hurt by others—I let her experience those feelings fully. I stand by her side, offering comfort as she navigates her emotions. I ask open-ended questions, allowing her to articulate her feelings without fear of judgment.
While we may eventually discuss finding solutions, I prioritize the process of feeling first. I don’t rush to reassure her that everything will be okay, acknowledging that sometimes, it won’t be. I commit to helping her and ensure I follow through, but first, we take the time to feel.
This process might seem lengthy, but it often only takes about 15 minutes before we can shift into laughter and connection once more. Embracing sadness, anger, and fear can feel overwhelming, but once we lean into those emotions, they often dissipate quickly. Feeling them together can strengthen our bond, serving as a balm for our wounds.
For more insights on navigating emotions and parenting, check out other posts on our blog.
In summary, allowing children to express their emotions is crucial for their development. By modeling emotional openness and providing a safe space, we can help them learn to process their feelings.