At this point, it may be wise to stop and ask yourself some questions.
Are you still afraid that if you let a child of yours "go on" about such feelings they will increase?
Are you still afraid that if he brings such feelings out, he will have to carry them over into action?
You've heard now that neither of these things need happen. But, after all, you have heard the other side for many long years.
Haven't you been taught all your life that unpretty feelings are unacceptable? Weren't you taught very early specifically that hostile feelings and sex feelings in a child were especially unthinkable?
You can't expect yourself to get over your old feelings all at once. You'll probably wander back and forth between the old and the new many times.
You may hate to think, for instance, that any child of yours could have hidden resentment to a new baby beneath the sweetness he showed. One part of you protests. Another part says, "Yes, I feel that was true." And this part feels also that there was resentment aplenty to the new baby's mother. As one child put it, "She shouldn't have brought so much bother home from the hospital."
One part of you protests against the idea that your teenagers literally hate you at moments. Another part of you knows full well that this also happens.
One part of you blames yourself for it. Another part wisely counters that when your teen-agers were small you didn't know how to help them handle their feelings. It was natural, as a result, that anger against both the actual and fantasied "wrongs" should have piled up.
One part of you is still afraid to see these things come out into the open. The other part of you has courage enough to say, "Go ahead."
It's natural for resentment and anger to enter afresh into close relationships as life moves on. There are bound to be loving and hostile moments both between sisters and brothers, between husbands and wives, between parents and children.
Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Let him know you understand
To do this--if you notice that your son or your daughter is bewildered, sore or disgruntled--open it up--don't pass it over. Watch carefully. Listen attentively. Try to see how your youngster feels. And say what you observe aloud in order to communicate that you are acceptant and willing to have him bring out more of his feelings.
"You look bothered, Sis!" Or "I know, Bud, this surely must make you mad!"
Try to GET THE FEEL OF WHAT HE'S FEELING and try to MIRROR HIS FEELINGS WITH YOUR WORDS.
You may need to introduce your new policy with a newsflash. "I've got some sense at last about this business of feelings. I read a book which explained that it only makes matters worse to hold feelings in. So let's start a new program. If you feel mad, you tell me . . ."
"And if you're mad?"
"I'll tell you, too."
"That's not new."
"No. But from your side it will be. We've never before tolerated your griping. We've sat on you. Remember? We've said, 'Look here, you don't appreciate how good you have it.' Or we've told you that you shouldn't complain. Or we've scolded, 'You shouldn't talk that way to your mother.' Or we've insisted, 'You don't really feel that way,' when you actually did.
"But now we know better. And we've a hunch that after you've brought out your grievances for a while in big doses, you won't need to get mad as often or as much. Anyway, let's give it a try."
Sometimes no matter what we do, it doesn't help. No matter how many "horrible" feelings we listen to, a child's problems go on. There are a number of reasons for this. Chief among these is the fact that he may be "spilling" about the feelings that HIDE his true feelings and NOT about the real feelings that are troubling him. Mona, for instance, weeps and complains that she feels so shy; that she doesn't dare talk to anybody; that everyone knows so much more than she, and that they don't like her. What is actually bothering her, however, is the anger against a more brilliant sister which she is covering up. Her timidity is a denial of how she really feels.
As parents (or teachers) we cannot and should not prod for these undercover feelings. We can only give opportunity to let come what comes.
Sometimes as we remain acceptant the child of his own accord moves on and brings out more of the hidden feelings. Sometimes, if there are problems that keep on disturbing him and us--we are wise to seek professional help, realizing that the trained person is better equipped to get at the undercover, hidden feelings which are causing the problems to go on.
In any case it may happen when you start to mirror "mean" feelings that your youngster very positively denies what you say. "No," he may avow with a mean look in his eye, "I don't feel mean at all." Or, instead of frank denial, he may put on a saintly, I'm-better-than-you sort of air.
Many times this is no more than a passing defense against admitting feelings he has long believed he had to deny. If it happens, don't be insistent! Don't push him to admit these particular feelings at this particular time. But persist in showing your acceptance of them as other occasions arise.
"You look bothered, Sis!" Or "I know, Bud, this surely must make you mad!"
Try to GET THE FEEL OF WHAT HE'S FEELING and try to MIRROR HIS FEELINGS WITH YOUR WORDS.
You may need to introduce your new policy with a newsflash. "I've got some sense at last about this business of feelings. I read a book which explained that it only makes matters worse to hold feelings in. So let's start a new program. If you feel mad, you tell me . . ."
"And if you're mad?"
"I'll tell you, too."
"That's not new."
"No. But from your side it will be. We've never before tolerated your griping. We've sat on you. Remember? We've said, 'Look here, you don't appreciate how good you have it.' Or we've told you that you shouldn't complain. Or we've scolded, 'You shouldn't talk that way to your mother.' Or we've insisted, 'You don't really feel that way,' when you actually did.
"But now we know better. And we've a hunch that after you've brought out your grievances for a while in big doses, you won't need to get mad as often or as much. Anyway, let's give it a try."
Sometimes no matter what we do, it doesn't help. No matter how many "horrible" feelings we listen to, a child's problems go on. There are a number of reasons for this. Chief among these is the fact that he may be "spilling" about the feelings that HIDE his true feelings and NOT about the real feelings that are troubling him. Mona, for instance, weeps and complains that she feels so shy; that she doesn't dare talk to anybody; that everyone knows so much more than she, and that they don't like her. What is actually bothering her, however, is the anger against a more brilliant sister which she is covering up. Her timidity is a denial of how she really feels.
As parents (or teachers) we cannot and should not prod for these undercover feelings. We can only give opportunity to let come what comes.
Sometimes as we remain acceptant the child of his own accord moves on and brings out more of the hidden feelings. Sometimes, if there are problems that keep on disturbing him and us--we are wise to seek professional help, realizing that the trained person is better equipped to get at the undercover, hidden feelings which are causing the problems to go on.
In any case it may happen when you start to mirror "mean" feelings that your youngster very positively denies what you say. "No," he may avow with a mean look in his eye, "I don't feel mean at all." Or, instead of frank denial, he may put on a saintly, I'm-better-than-you sort of air.
Many times this is no more than a passing defense against admitting feelings he has long believed he had to deny. If it happens, don't be insistent! Don't push him to admit these particular feelings at this particular time. But persist in showing your acceptance of them as other occasions arise.
Let him reduce the pressure inside
Let's see how it works between parents and children. Here is Rhea, fourteen, pinned to the TV, entranced with the glamorous heroines she is secretly studying to emulate. Then comes:
Scene as it was before Mother knew better
The time is after supper when Father wants to watch the wrestling matches. Rhea protests.
"Come on, now, Rhea," father growls, "it's my turn to have the show."
"You mean to hog the show," counters Rhea with an ugly leer.
"Here! Here, girl. Who's calling who what?"
"You said it," from nine-year-old Bud gleefully. "She's the pig."
"You scrub," mutters Rhea. "You just stay out of it . . ." And to Father, turning on her best wheedling, "Please, Dad, can't I have just a little more time?"
"Sorry," says Father, changing the channel as if Rome depended on it.
"You!" Rhea bursts out. "You! You old hypocrite. You're not really sorry at all."
"Why, Rhea." Mother scowls reproachfully while Father settles himself on the davenport. Bud wriggles down blissfully cherubic beside him, sucking at his bottle of Coke through a straw.
Rhea flounces out with looks that would kill if they could. She goes into the kitchen and starts stirring up some hot chocolate as a kind of soothing potion.
Mother just sits, knitting for dear life and gritting her teeth, when suddenly she hears a piercing shriek.
In the kitchen, Rhea is sobbing. She has spilled the boiling water from the kettle and has burned her leg.
That night there is no more wrestling match for Father and no more triumphant companionship for Bud.
Now let's turn the calendar forward and meet the family once more.
Scene sometime later after Mother had learned
Once more Rhea is watching her glamorous heroines. Once more Bud and Father come onto the scene.
"Okay, now, Rhea, now it's my time," from Father.
"But please, please, Daddy. Can't I ever have anything that I want?"
"Look, Rhea, it's my turn," from Father, decidedly.
And once again Rhea flounces out.
But this time, Mother rises and follows her down the hall.
"Come on into my room, Rhea. It's no fun, I know, feeling left out."
Rhea flops down on her mother's bed, her underlip curling, the tears welling up in her eyes. "Gee, Mom, I hate that goatfaced drag . . ."
Said Rhea's mother when she later related the incident, "I had it on the tip of my tongue to flare up, 'I won't have you talk about your father like that.' But I held my horses knowing the worst had to come out some way to reduce the pressure. And Rhea went on.
"'That's all that Bud is. I can't stand his grin. What right has he to be so triumphant? He gets everything his way in this house . . .'
"My, was I glad I'd decided to listen. So here they were, Rhea's real feelings--anger at Bud for having her father. I remembered in a quick flash how I'd felt, the very same way only years and years back!
"I looked right at Rhea and, strangely, I didn't feel angry. I didn't feel like a stern taskmaster being called on to put her straight on the line. I felt with her, poor child! I realized she'd acted badly, but I realized, also, how important it was to pay attention to her feelings first. So I listened while she stormed. And she certainly did. Over and over: She hated Bud. She hated her father. I let her spill on and on. And then, all at once, with a great sob she gulped brokenhearted, 'They've got all those boy things to hold them together. Isn't Dad interested in girl things at all?'
"'I know, dear,' I nodded, mirroring her feelings. 'You'd like Dad to have a little time just for you.'
"With that the sobs eased. 'Oh, Mom, you're so darling,' between moppings and sniffles. 'How did you ever get to understand?'"
So much for the moment. Rhea's mother knew there would be repetitions. There were bound to be. Meanwhile in this last scene several things had happened:
Rhea's resentment had spilled out.
It had been met with sympathetic understanding. Rhea's mother had communicated this to her daughter by putting what she sensed Rhea felt into words that mirrored her feelings. Rhea then knew she had a friend who didn't desert her out of believing as Rhea did about herself, that she was unworthy and greedy, unlikable and "bad."
Furthermore, having learned by listening how Rhea felt about her needs in relation to her father, Rhea's mother was in a position to tell him about this. As a result, some worthwhile steps could be taken to decrease Rhea's emotional hunger which not only was unnecessary but would also make resentment grow.
However, even before Rhea's mother had a chance to talk with Father, Rhea showed that her feelings were already somewhat changed. "How did you magic her?" he asked later that evening after Rhea had spilled. "When she kissed me good night she was actually sweet."
Her mother knew though that it wasn't magic. After the outflow of the "bad" feelings and the sympathetic acceptance she had accorded them, good feelings came in.
After this, too, Rhea was more often willing to listen to reason she had always discarded before.
"Father works all day. At night he should have first choice of the TV! He needs to be considered, you know."
At times Rhea assented. Since her feelings had been considered she was more willing to consider someone else's and comply in her acts.
At times she still protested. But with grievances coming repeatedly into the open, the fights over TV grew less intense. The flurries were over more quickly and the bitterness in them slackened.
Rhea had found she could share and bring out what she felt and have these feelings accepted. Although hanging onto the television could not be sanctioned, her feelings had not been condemned nor shut off.
Rhea's mother had MIRRORED them simply. And then she'd given them plenty of chance to SPILL OUT.
You can do the same.
Scene as it was before Mother knew better
The time is after supper when Father wants to watch the wrestling matches. Rhea protests.
"Come on, now, Rhea," father growls, "it's my turn to have the show."
"You mean to hog the show," counters Rhea with an ugly leer.
"Here! Here, girl. Who's calling who what?"
"You said it," from nine-year-old Bud gleefully. "She's the pig."
"You scrub," mutters Rhea. "You just stay out of it . . ." And to Father, turning on her best wheedling, "Please, Dad, can't I have just a little more time?"
"Sorry," says Father, changing the channel as if Rome depended on it.
"You!" Rhea bursts out. "You! You old hypocrite. You're not really sorry at all."
"Why, Rhea." Mother scowls reproachfully while Father settles himself on the davenport. Bud wriggles down blissfully cherubic beside him, sucking at his bottle of Coke through a straw.
Rhea flounces out with looks that would kill if they could. She goes into the kitchen and starts stirring up some hot chocolate as a kind of soothing potion.
Mother just sits, knitting for dear life and gritting her teeth, when suddenly she hears a piercing shriek.
In the kitchen, Rhea is sobbing. She has spilled the boiling water from the kettle and has burned her leg.
That night there is no more wrestling match for Father and no more triumphant companionship for Bud.
Now let's turn the calendar forward and meet the family once more.
Scene sometime later after Mother had learned
Once more Rhea is watching her glamorous heroines. Once more Bud and Father come onto the scene.
"Okay, now, Rhea, now it's my time," from Father.
"But please, please, Daddy. Can't I ever have anything that I want?"
"Look, Rhea, it's my turn," from Father, decidedly.
And once again Rhea flounces out.
But this time, Mother rises and follows her down the hall.
"Come on into my room, Rhea. It's no fun, I know, feeling left out."
Rhea flops down on her mother's bed, her underlip curling, the tears welling up in her eyes. "Gee, Mom, I hate that goatfaced drag . . ."
Said Rhea's mother when she later related the incident, "I had it on the tip of my tongue to flare up, 'I won't have you talk about your father like that.' But I held my horses knowing the worst had to come out some way to reduce the pressure. And Rhea went on.
"'That's all that Bud is. I can't stand his grin. What right has he to be so triumphant? He gets everything his way in this house . . .'
"My, was I glad I'd decided to listen. So here they were, Rhea's real feelings--anger at Bud for having her father. I remembered in a quick flash how I'd felt, the very same way only years and years back!
"I looked right at Rhea and, strangely, I didn't feel angry. I didn't feel like a stern taskmaster being called on to put her straight on the line. I felt with her, poor child! I realized she'd acted badly, but I realized, also, how important it was to pay attention to her feelings first. So I listened while she stormed. And she certainly did. Over and over: She hated Bud. She hated her father. I let her spill on and on. And then, all at once, with a great sob she gulped brokenhearted, 'They've got all those boy things to hold them together. Isn't Dad interested in girl things at all?'
"'I know, dear,' I nodded, mirroring her feelings. 'You'd like Dad to have a little time just for you.'
"With that the sobs eased. 'Oh, Mom, you're so darling,' between moppings and sniffles. 'How did you ever get to understand?'"
So much for the moment. Rhea's mother knew there would be repetitions. There were bound to be. Meanwhile in this last scene several things had happened:
Rhea's resentment had spilled out.
It had been met with sympathetic understanding. Rhea's mother had communicated this to her daughter by putting what she sensed Rhea felt into words that mirrored her feelings. Rhea then knew she had a friend who didn't desert her out of believing as Rhea did about herself, that she was unworthy and greedy, unlikable and "bad."
Furthermore, having learned by listening how Rhea felt about her needs in relation to her father, Rhea's mother was in a position to tell him about this. As a result, some worthwhile steps could be taken to decrease Rhea's emotional hunger which not only was unnecessary but would also make resentment grow.
However, even before Rhea's mother had a chance to talk with Father, Rhea showed that her feelings were already somewhat changed. "How did you magic her?" he asked later that evening after Rhea had spilled. "When she kissed me good night she was actually sweet."
Her mother knew though that it wasn't magic. After the outflow of the "bad" feelings and the sympathetic acceptance she had accorded them, good feelings came in.
After this, too, Rhea was more often willing to listen to reason she had always discarded before.
"Father works all day. At night he should have first choice of the TV! He needs to be considered, you know."
At times Rhea assented. Since her feelings had been considered she was more willing to consider someone else's and comply in her acts.
At times she still protested. But with grievances coming repeatedly into the open, the fights over TV grew less intense. The flurries were over more quickly and the bitterness in them slackened.
Rhea had found she could share and bring out what she felt and have these feelings accepted. Although hanging onto the television could not be sanctioned, her feelings had not been condemned nor shut off.
Rhea's mother had MIRRORED them simply. And then she'd given them plenty of chance to SPILL OUT.
You can do the same.
Seperate feelings from acts
We need to distinguish between feelings and actions. They are not identical. Each needs its own type of treatment.
FEELINGS always NEED TO COME OUT; ACTIONS often NEED HOLDING BACK.
In other words they need opposite handling, the one from the other. Whereas heretofore we have lumped them together and have tried to treat them both alike.
Out of this lack of separation many of our failures have grown.
We need to know securely that feeling a thing does not necessarily mean doing a thing.
FEELINGS ARE FACTS but not necessarily ACTS.
Certainly you feel bad when your cake doesn't rise in the baking. But that doesn't mean you have to smash the cake tin. Certainly Pete felt mad when his boss gave the coveted job to someone else. But that didn't mean he had to smash his boss.
Nor did Ann's saying that she wanted to strike her mother dead mean that she had to go ahead and do it.
You can want to buy a painting and yet not buy it. You can want to poison the neighbor for being nasty to your dog and yet never go near a pot of poison. You can feel at times like murdering your children and yet be a perfectly good parent. And so can they feel like murdering you.
Acknowledging the presence of an impulse does not mean that it must be carried out in an act that matches the impulse. The better one can see what the impulse is, the better can one control the actions toward which it pushes.
Young Jed had complained that the car had got going so fast he couldn't handle it.
What he'd implied was that his feelings had got going so fast he couldn't handle them.
Emotion is a powerful force that propels a person to do many untoward things. As we now know, many acts come from the push of feelings that are neither seen nor admitted. Since they are invisible to him, the person may, without even knowing it, let the feelings roll on and gather too much momentum to be comfortably steered. Then when he jams on the brakes, it does little good. He gets into trouble when he tries to maneuver a turn. However, if he first pays proper attention to cutting down the power, then the brakes do hold and he can turn safely into whatever road he chooses.
Just as with the force of the dashing car, so does the force of wild feelings need to be lessened. Then the actions which are geared to them can be more readily steered and controlled.
Facing the presence of the treacherous feelings is a desirable step. It can come best when the feelings have been accorded sufficient acceptance.
Then another step needs to be taken. The push of the feelings needs to be cut down.
In the talks Jed had with the counselor who accepted his feelings, he had been able to "spill" out again and again. He'd been able to bring out his anger, unreasonable though it was. Whether real or fancied, it had to travel along some outgoing path in order for him to do three things:
to face his feelings
to reduce their force
to control his behavior.
Spilling briefly just once didn't do it. It seldom does. For the moment, perhaps. But, since the teenager's feelings have been long accumulating, they usually need more prolonged and repeated discharge.
FEELINGS always NEED TO COME OUT; ACTIONS often NEED HOLDING BACK.
In other words they need opposite handling, the one from the other. Whereas heretofore we have lumped them together and have tried to treat them both alike.
Out of this lack of separation many of our failures have grown.
We need to know securely that feeling a thing does not necessarily mean doing a thing.
FEELINGS ARE FACTS but not necessarily ACTS.
Certainly you feel bad when your cake doesn't rise in the baking. But that doesn't mean you have to smash the cake tin. Certainly Pete felt mad when his boss gave the coveted job to someone else. But that didn't mean he had to smash his boss.
Nor did Ann's saying that she wanted to strike her mother dead mean that she had to go ahead and do it.
You can want to buy a painting and yet not buy it. You can want to poison the neighbor for being nasty to your dog and yet never go near a pot of poison. You can feel at times like murdering your children and yet be a perfectly good parent. And so can they feel like murdering you.
Acknowledging the presence of an impulse does not mean that it must be carried out in an act that matches the impulse. The better one can see what the impulse is, the better can one control the actions toward which it pushes.
Young Jed had complained that the car had got going so fast he couldn't handle it.
What he'd implied was that his feelings had got going so fast he couldn't handle them.
Emotion is a powerful force that propels a person to do many untoward things. As we now know, many acts come from the push of feelings that are neither seen nor admitted. Since they are invisible to him, the person may, without even knowing it, let the feelings roll on and gather too much momentum to be comfortably steered. Then when he jams on the brakes, it does little good. He gets into trouble when he tries to maneuver a turn. However, if he first pays proper attention to cutting down the power, then the brakes do hold and he can turn safely into whatever road he chooses.
Just as with the force of the dashing car, so does the force of wild feelings need to be lessened. Then the actions which are geared to them can be more readily steered and controlled.
Facing the presence of the treacherous feelings is a desirable step. It can come best when the feelings have been accorded sufficient acceptance.
Then another step needs to be taken. The push of the feelings needs to be cut down.
In the talks Jed had with the counselor who accepted his feelings, he had been able to "spill" out again and again. He'd been able to bring out his anger, unreasonable though it was. Whether real or fancied, it had to travel along some outgoing path in order for him to do three things:
to face his feelings
to reduce their force
to control his behavior.
Spilling briefly just once didn't do it. It seldom does. For the moment, perhaps. But, since the teenager's feelings have been long accumulating, they usually need more prolonged and repeated discharge.
Telling a person not to feel what he feels
Telling a person NOT TO FEEL WHAT HE FEELS does NOT take the feelings AWAY.
Telling a person not to feel what he feels not only implies condemnation. It also forbids him to do something he can't help doing. He wants to stop. He can't. What you've done actually accentuates his feeling "bad." It is also apt to turn him against you.
When you feel that your husband or wife disregards your feelings, you tend to be disappointed and bitter. Your teenager is no different when you fail to take his feelings into account. He only grows more resentful and more antagonistic. Like Kim he may come to believe "It's no use listening to parents. They never listen to you."
DISREGARDING your adolescent's TRUE FEELINGS makes him DISREGARD YOU.
What you crave and what he craves is understanding. Sympathetic understanding, we might call it, if by this term we mean the acceptance of the feelings as they truly are. Not glossing them over or prettying them, or trying to turn them, presto, into cheer.
What Pete wanted was to know that someone understood and accepted the soreness in him. "Trying for a job and then having it slide out from under your hands into someone else's --that does make you feel bitter!" It does.
What Ann wanted was someone to grant her the dignity and seriousness of feeling whatever she actually felt in her love for Tom. Had her mother just listened attentively, perhaps saying nothing but remembering back to her own teen-age moments of rapturous, sad and heart-searing romance, identifying and feeling with her daughter--then Ann would undoubtedly have felt her with-ness. And this would have helped Ann bring her true feelings into truer perspective. It would have carried her closer to bringing her actions under wiser control.
When you are upset or disturbed--whether it's because of a small disappointment like having a cake fall, or whether it's because of a large, frightening experience like an operation-what you want and need is to have someone listen and endure with you, understanding how you really feel.
The same is true of your adolescent.
Telling a person not to feel what he feels not only implies condemnation. It also forbids him to do something he can't help doing. He wants to stop. He can't. What you've done actually accentuates his feeling "bad." It is also apt to turn him against you.
When you feel that your husband or wife disregards your feelings, you tend to be disappointed and bitter. Your teenager is no different when you fail to take his feelings into account. He only grows more resentful and more antagonistic. Like Kim he may come to believe "It's no use listening to parents. They never listen to you."
DISREGARDING your adolescent's TRUE FEELINGS makes him DISREGARD YOU.
What you crave and what he craves is understanding. Sympathetic understanding, we might call it, if by this term we mean the acceptance of the feelings as they truly are. Not glossing them over or prettying them, or trying to turn them, presto, into cheer.
What Pete wanted was to know that someone understood and accepted the soreness in him. "Trying for a job and then having it slide out from under your hands into someone else's --that does make you feel bitter!" It does.
What Ann wanted was someone to grant her the dignity and seriousness of feeling whatever she actually felt in her love for Tom. Had her mother just listened attentively, perhaps saying nothing but remembering back to her own teen-age moments of rapturous, sad and heart-searing romance, identifying and feeling with her daughter--then Ann would undoubtedly have felt her with-ness. And this would have helped Ann bring her true feelings into truer perspective. It would have carried her closer to bringing her actions under wiser control.
When you are upset or disturbed--whether it's because of a small disappointment like having a cake fall, or whether it's because of a large, frightening experience like an operation-what you want and need is to have someone listen and endure with you, understanding how you really feel.
The same is true of your adolescent.
In Guiding Your Teenager
Take First Things First
We have seen that hiding feelings is not effective. We've seen that feelings which remain hidden manage in some way to come out in uncontrolled and often in unhealthy, destructive and inappropriate acts.
To avoid the acts by which a teenager is apt to hurt himself and others, it is necessary for him to have the courage to accept his own feelings at the same time maintaining his self-regard. This you need to help him do. And this you can accomplish by letting him know that you accept his feelings--his "good" feelings and his so-called "bad" feelings--and that you think no less of him.
How important acceptance is, you yourself can testify if you stop to think.
When you have certain feelings and they're not understood, you feel disappointed and disapproved of. Your sense of intimacy and contact are broken.
"You're lucky that your child's accident wasn't worse!" This is mighty poor comfort when you've been worried over whether or not he would regain full motion in his fractured knee.
"It doesn't matter a bit that your cake fell; you'll do better next time!" This brings slim consolation. You care about this time; not next.
"You don't have to worry about that exam, Son. You know your stuff!" But this, too, does not help. It may instead estrange the son. He is worried and it's his worry that he wants you to understand.
Blond Ann looks up, her eyes blazing. "That mother of mine! She's got no more sense in her head than a flea. I tell her I'm in love with Tom and she says, 'You'll get over it. You're only sixteen.' . . . As if my feelings didn't count simply because I'm two years underage. She makes me furious. I'd like to strike her dead. She doesn't understand me at all."
Young Pete, too, is angry. "You know what my dad said when I told him the other fellow got the job I'd been angling for? He said, 'Be sensible, Pete. There's no need for you to feel sore. Your boss never told you, did he, that he was going to give you that job?' Well, granted he hadn't. But it didn't make me feel any better to have my dad rub it in."
What Pete craved at the moment was not the sane, reasoning approach to disappointment. Nor was it a cheering-him-up kind of pity either that he craved. For this often carries a strange flat flavor.
"Don't feel bad, darling, that you lost your kitten! We'll get you another one tomorrow!" This cheers and consoles but it also directs the person away from his troubled feelings. And so it very subtly says, "You have no right to feel as you do."
"Don't worry, dear, over the operation. It isn't serious. Everything will be all right. It's done every day." Again the cheering on is present. But again the true feelings are told to disappear.
If someone implies that you should feel differently or tells you that you should not feel what you do feel, it doesn't make your feelings leave. The sense of disappointment or fear or chagrin or excitement is still in you. You can be told a dozen times, "Calm yourself now. Be steady!" But if you're not calm, such cautioning is obviously in vain.
We have seen that hiding feelings is not effective. We've seen that feelings which remain hidden manage in some way to come out in uncontrolled and often in unhealthy, destructive and inappropriate acts.
To avoid the acts by which a teenager is apt to hurt himself and others, it is necessary for him to have the courage to accept his own feelings at the same time maintaining his self-regard. This you need to help him do. And this you can accomplish by letting him know that you accept his feelings--his "good" feelings and his so-called "bad" feelings--and that you think no less of him.
How important acceptance is, you yourself can testify if you stop to think.
When you have certain feelings and they're not understood, you feel disappointed and disapproved of. Your sense of intimacy and contact are broken.
"You're lucky that your child's accident wasn't worse!" This is mighty poor comfort when you've been worried over whether or not he would regain full motion in his fractured knee.
"It doesn't matter a bit that your cake fell; you'll do better next time!" This brings slim consolation. You care about this time; not next.
"You don't have to worry about that exam, Son. You know your stuff!" But this, too, does not help. It may instead estrange the son. He is worried and it's his worry that he wants you to understand.
Blond Ann looks up, her eyes blazing. "That mother of mine! She's got no more sense in her head than a flea. I tell her I'm in love with Tom and she says, 'You'll get over it. You're only sixteen.' . . . As if my feelings didn't count simply because I'm two years underage. She makes me furious. I'd like to strike her dead. She doesn't understand me at all."
Young Pete, too, is angry. "You know what my dad said when I told him the other fellow got the job I'd been angling for? He said, 'Be sensible, Pete. There's no need for you to feel sore. Your boss never told you, did he, that he was going to give you that job?' Well, granted he hadn't. But it didn't make me feel any better to have my dad rub it in."
What Pete craved at the moment was not the sane, reasoning approach to disappointment. Nor was it a cheering-him-up kind of pity either that he craved. For this often carries a strange flat flavor.
"Don't feel bad, darling, that you lost your kitten! We'll get you another one tomorrow!" This cheers and consoles but it also directs the person away from his troubled feelings. And so it very subtly says, "You have no right to feel as you do."
"Don't worry, dear, over the operation. It isn't serious. Everything will be all right. It's done every day." Again the cheering on is present. But again the true feelings are told to disappear.
If someone implies that you should feel differently or tells you that you should not feel what you do feel, it doesn't make your feelings leave. The sense of disappointment or fear or chagrin or excitement is still in you. You can be told a dozen times, "Calm yourself now. Be steady!" But if you're not calm, such cautioning is obviously in vain.
It Helps to Know How Troubles Start
To understand and help our teenager's actions, we need to understand the feelings from his past and his present that push him and make him do what he does. Particularly do we need to understand his feelings about himself. These color his behavior more than anything else.
Almost always, liking or not liking oneself reaches back into childhood's first five or six years. Old feelings carried over in the unconscious mind crop out in adolescent feelings of selfbelittlement, in feelings of being unworthy and "bad." Many of these old feelings, then, join with feelings which are rising freshly at this time of life.
In the beginning, as far as the baby is concerned, everything has to do with his body. Your baby, like other babies, craved nothing so much as the body satisfactions that came with being cuddled and fed. Perhaps, though, 'way back when he was cradle size he was told, "No, no!" if he made hungry demands, since the belief then held that it was necessary to feed babies by the clock. If he cried, craving the body pleasure of feeding at an off-scheduled time, he was "bad." And so one of the first snapshot impressions he got of himself left a mind picture:
Baby is "bad" for wanting BODY PLEASURE.
Furthermore, because he failed to get the emotional nourishment he needed, baby grew angry. Perhaps he screamed, and he was scolded or in some fashion greeted with irritation. This made a second mind picture:
Baby is "bad" for BEING MAD.
A little while later when he was toilet-trained, again focus was on his body.
To a small child elimination is a great achievement. It is also a pleasurable act. Watch a baby having an evacuation. His whole body wriggles in delight. If we made him feel he was dirty, or if we imposed toilet training on him so early that he was uncomfortable trying to do what we asked before muscles and mind were quite ready, we took enjoyment away from him.
He wanted to go on performing his body functions for a while, at least until his muscles were readier, in more primitive and pleasurable fashion. So again anger arose. And again came the two pictures: baby is "bad" for wanting body pleasure of such a primitive nature, and baby is "bad" for being mad.
As he went on, other body pleasures may also have come into the field and were interfered with. Possibly his thumb was taken out of his mouth when sucking it felt good to him, or body explorations that felt pleasant were stopped in the belief that this was necessary.
Coupled with these things, you also had to do things that were unpleasant or painful when he was hurt or sick.
In his mind he may have put these various happenings together. As many children do, he may have added them up in his own fancy and in his own fashion to mean, quite mistakenly, that your ministrations were a kind of punishment.
Then the picture in his mind was blown up to enlarged dimensions. He was sure he was "bad."
He wanted his pleasure and he wanted to bring out his anger.
But he wanted also to avoid your displeasure.
He grew afraid of his body with its "bad" impulses. He might lose you if he showed his feelings. He was in a corner. He had to do something about himself.
By this time he wished to pattern himself after you and in a way be you. This offered him one "out." He gradually became a kind of mother or father to himself. Even when he was quite little, after you said "No, no!" to him, you may have noticed him going around shaking his head and saying "No, no!" to himself. He was being you even then. But he became more you as he grew. And here more trouble may have entered the scene.
In his imagined badness, he often fancied that you were more of an ogre than you were in reality. He became more condemnatory and stricter with himself than you ever were with him. And he often resented you mightily for what he imagined you were. He hated you soundly for it. This added itself to his former anger. And he hated himself for hating you.
He hated himself and he feared himself also. He feared what his hostility made him impulsively want to do. For inside of himself his anger was shaping primitive fantasies of revenge. Perhaps he was wishing to bite and devour or to soil and smear and use his body as a weapon in any way that he could. Then he blamed himself doubly for his feelings and more than ever felt himself "bad."
This much for the story of how it began--his feeling of not liking himself. Away back it started from two rugged roots: He was bad because of the push of his body for pleasure. He was bad because of the push of his hostile urges. The sense of not liking himself spread then apace with the branching out of imaginings as these grew from the two roots planted in his earliest years.
Almost always, liking or not liking oneself reaches back into childhood's first five or six years. Old feelings carried over in the unconscious mind crop out in adolescent feelings of selfbelittlement, in feelings of being unworthy and "bad." Many of these old feelings, then, join with feelings which are rising freshly at this time of life.
In the beginning, as far as the baby is concerned, everything has to do with his body. Your baby, like other babies, craved nothing so much as the body satisfactions that came with being cuddled and fed. Perhaps, though, 'way back when he was cradle size he was told, "No, no!" if he made hungry demands, since the belief then held that it was necessary to feed babies by the clock. If he cried, craving the body pleasure of feeding at an off-scheduled time, he was "bad." And so one of the first snapshot impressions he got of himself left a mind picture:
Baby is "bad" for wanting BODY PLEASURE.
Furthermore, because he failed to get the emotional nourishment he needed, baby grew angry. Perhaps he screamed, and he was scolded or in some fashion greeted with irritation. This made a second mind picture:
Baby is "bad" for BEING MAD.
A little while later when he was toilet-trained, again focus was on his body.
To a small child elimination is a great achievement. It is also a pleasurable act. Watch a baby having an evacuation. His whole body wriggles in delight. If we made him feel he was dirty, or if we imposed toilet training on him so early that he was uncomfortable trying to do what we asked before muscles and mind were quite ready, we took enjoyment away from him.
He wanted to go on performing his body functions for a while, at least until his muscles were readier, in more primitive and pleasurable fashion. So again anger arose. And again came the two pictures: baby is "bad" for wanting body pleasure of such a primitive nature, and baby is "bad" for being mad.
As he went on, other body pleasures may also have come into the field and were interfered with. Possibly his thumb was taken out of his mouth when sucking it felt good to him, or body explorations that felt pleasant were stopped in the belief that this was necessary.
Coupled with these things, you also had to do things that were unpleasant or painful when he was hurt or sick.
In his mind he may have put these various happenings together. As many children do, he may have added them up in his own fancy and in his own fashion to mean, quite mistakenly, that your ministrations were a kind of punishment.
Then the picture in his mind was blown up to enlarged dimensions. He was sure he was "bad."
He wanted his pleasure and he wanted to bring out his anger.
But he wanted also to avoid your displeasure.
He grew afraid of his body with its "bad" impulses. He might lose you if he showed his feelings. He was in a corner. He had to do something about himself.
By this time he wished to pattern himself after you and in a way be you. This offered him one "out." He gradually became a kind of mother or father to himself. Even when he was quite little, after you said "No, no!" to him, you may have noticed him going around shaking his head and saying "No, no!" to himself. He was being you even then. But he became more you as he grew. And here more trouble may have entered the scene.
In his imagined badness, he often fancied that you were more of an ogre than you were in reality. He became more condemnatory and stricter with himself than you ever were with him. And he often resented you mightily for what he imagined you were. He hated you soundly for it. This added itself to his former anger. And he hated himself for hating you.
He hated himself and he feared himself also. He feared what his hostility made him impulsively want to do. For inside of himself his anger was shaping primitive fantasies of revenge. Perhaps he was wishing to bite and devour or to soil and smear and use his body as a weapon in any way that he could. Then he blamed himself doubly for his feelings and more than ever felt himself "bad."
This much for the story of how it began--his feeling of not liking himself. Away back it started from two rugged roots: He was bad because of the push of his body for pleasure. He was bad because of the push of his hostile urges. The sense of not liking himself spread then apace with the branching out of imaginings as these grew from the two roots planted in his earliest years.
What Personality Is
The sources of man's behavior (his observable action) and his subjective experience (such as thoughts, feelings, and wishes) are twofold: the external stimuli that impinge on him and the internal dispositions that result from the interaction between inherited physiological characteristics and experience with the world. When we focus on the former, we note that a person acts in such-and-such a way because of certain qualities in a situation. For example, he attacks a friend because the friend insulted him, or he loses interest in a lecture because the teacher is dull or uninformed, or he fails in his program of study because the necessity of supporting himself through school leaves insufficient time for studying. It is evident that a man's behavior varies greatly from moment to moment, from circumstance to circumstance, changing with the changing conditions to which he is exposed.
Still, even as we recognize the dependency of behavior on outside stimuli, we are also aware that it cannot be accounted for on the basis of the external situation alone, but that in fact it must arise partly from personal characteristics. For example, the same quantity of alcohol that will induce loss of control and dilapidated behavior in one individual will produce scarcely noticeable effects in another. Some of this variation, of course, can be laid to momentary physical and social conditions. For instance, when the social circumstances of drinking are friendly and benign, a person may be less guarded and more inclined to permit himself to get drunk than when the situation is hostile or dangerous. Moreover, the amount and type of food in the stomach before and during drinking also determine the alcoholic effect by influencing the rate of absorption of the alcohol into the bloodstream and its subsequent effects on the brain.
But some of the variations in the effects of alcohol or any other stimulus result from stable personal characteristics that are almost always in operation in all situations. Body weight, for example, is quite influential in determining the physiological and psychological effects given quantities of alcohol can produce. Then too, psychologically, some persons are more concerned than others with exercising controls or restraints over behavior, so they keep the lid on the dilapidating and disinhibiting effects of alcohol, sometimes even until they lose consciousness or go to sleep. But other personality characteristics can lead a person to lose control very rapidly and grow either depressed, unruly, and hostile, or exceedingly sociable and outgoing. Or, to take a nonalcoholic example, one person may virtually never get discouraged and give up trying to accomplish something even when the circumstances warrant it, while another quits trying at the first evidence of trouble.
It is certain that a person's behavior is governed not only by momentary external stimulation, but also by the stable attributes he carries about with him. Clearly, then, we must identify these attributes, or dispositions, if we are to understand and predict psychological reactions. For these attributes are what we mean by personality. And the identifiable reactions are the end result of the interplay between them and immediate situations. In short, both external stimuli and personality must be taken into account in understanding and predicting human behavior and subjective experience.
Still, even as we recognize the dependency of behavior on outside stimuli, we are also aware that it cannot be accounted for on the basis of the external situation alone, but that in fact it must arise partly from personal characteristics. For example, the same quantity of alcohol that will induce loss of control and dilapidated behavior in one individual will produce scarcely noticeable effects in another. Some of this variation, of course, can be laid to momentary physical and social conditions. For instance, when the social circumstances of drinking are friendly and benign, a person may be less guarded and more inclined to permit himself to get drunk than when the situation is hostile or dangerous. Moreover, the amount and type of food in the stomach before and during drinking also determine the alcoholic effect by influencing the rate of absorption of the alcohol into the bloodstream and its subsequent effects on the brain.
But some of the variations in the effects of alcohol or any other stimulus result from stable personal characteristics that are almost always in operation in all situations. Body weight, for example, is quite influential in determining the physiological and psychological effects given quantities of alcohol can produce. Then too, psychologically, some persons are more concerned than others with exercising controls or restraints over behavior, so they keep the lid on the dilapidating and disinhibiting effects of alcohol, sometimes even until they lose consciousness or go to sleep. But other personality characteristics can lead a person to lose control very rapidly and grow either depressed, unruly, and hostile, or exceedingly sociable and outgoing. Or, to take a nonalcoholic example, one person may virtually never get discouraged and give up trying to accomplish something even when the circumstances warrant it, while another quits trying at the first evidence of trouble.
It is certain that a person's behavior is governed not only by momentary external stimulation, but also by the stable attributes he carries about with him. Clearly, then, we must identify these attributes, or dispositions, if we are to understand and predict psychological reactions. For these attributes are what we mean by personality. And the identifiable reactions are the end result of the interplay between them and immediate situations. In short, both external stimuli and personality must be taken into account in understanding and predicting human behavior and subjective experience.
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