Parenting can be a real challenge, often leaving us feeling overwhelmed as we navigate daily demands, schedules, and the emotional complexities of raising children. While I’m accustomed to the physical labor of parenting, the emotional aspect has proven to be far more daunting. Watching my kids wrestle with their emotions, whether it’s frustration from a tough task or sadness from a setback, can sometimes feel like an insurmountable hurdle.
I always step in to help when my kids have made an effort to help themselves, but as they grow and learn to navigate their independence, I’ve realized that sometimes the best support I can offer is simply to step back. This holds true for their emotional experiences as well. Although it can be tough for me, it’s crucial to give my children the space they need to process their feelings on their own.
I have a natural instinct to fix things. I want to improve situations and make everyone feel better. This inclination, however, can stem from my own experiences with trauma. Living with PTSD and OCD means I’m often assessing the emotional environment around me. My desire for comfort can make me overly responsive to my children’s feelings, leading to anxiety when they’re upset. But I’ve come to understand that it’s not my responsibility to ensure everyone is happy all the time.
Just like adults, children also need the freedom to feel uncomfortable. Resilience is cultivated through these uncomfortable moments, and while I don’t want my kids to suffer, I want them to learn how to manage their emotions independently. I want them to know they can sit with their feelings and process them in their own time, without my interference.
My eldest, Ava, is nine, and my twins, Max and Lily, are six. Ever since they were little, they have expressed a desire for solitude in various ways. Sometimes they need quiet to think or play; other times, they’re dealing with feelings of anger, embarrassment, or sadness. In each case, their request for space is a sign of trust, and I strive to honor that.
I often find myself questioning if I’m projecting my own feelings onto them. If they ask for space, it doesn’t mean they’re shutting me out; it indicates they’re communicating their needs. A simple yet powerful moment occurred at the playground when I noticed a friend of Ava’s sitting alone and visibly upset. My instinct was to approach him, but I reminded myself that it’s okay for him not to be okay.
When I greeted him, he expressed a desire to be alone. I respected his wishes and let him know where to find us if he changed his mind. A few moments later, he rejoined the group, demonstrating that his need for solitude was a healthy choice.
This concept applies to my own children as well. When they seek solitude, it doesn’t mean I’m failing them. I understand the need to be alone during overwhelming times. I can only truly express my feelings around a select few people, and I want to provide my children with that same understanding.
Encouraging my kids to take time for themselves isn’t neglect; it’s a way to foster their growth and resilience. For more insights on childhood emotional development, check out this blog post. Resources like MedlinePlus can also provide excellent information on related topics.
In summary, allowing our children the space to process their emotions is vital for their development. While it can be hard to step back, doing so empowers them to navigate their feelings and build resilience.