Things I want my kids to know

I was around 14 or 15 and it was a warm and sunny day. I was sitting in the back bedroom, settling in to play some playstation, which had pretty much been my go-to way of spending my time for a couple of years.

However, on this day, I couldn’t get comfortable. Some of this was the heat. Some of this was the fact that I had been gaining weight and my clothes were digging into me and I felt like I was extra hot. I was sitting on a bed and it felt like I just couldn’t sit on it without sinking into something warm which would dial up the discomfort even more. I also couldn’t work up as much excitement as usual about playing. I’d played most things and it was losing it's appeal somewhat.

I don’t remember the exact thought process, but I became distinctly aware that what I was doing wasn’t really the best option available to me. I was aware that it was a sunny day and that I “should” be out making the most of it, but whereas previously I would have pushed that idea away, I actually found it making sense. I felt sluggish. I felt like my eyes were bleary, and I felt like the idea of sitting, sweating and playing was pretty unappealing.

So, I decided to go for a bike ride.

I think about this moment quite a lot, because for me it marks the beginning of quite a lot of change for me. From that point onwards, I started taking care of myself a bit more. I started going out more, saying yes to things and trying things out more. I started getting back into life more.

This is my account of how that happened and why.

I had a period of time around the age of 13 when I had started to withdraw. I didn’t really want to go out and see people and the thought of it made me feel anxious a lot of the time. I felt on the edges of things quite a lot, like I didn’t really fit. I felt safest when I was inside. I didn’t feel great about myself in general.

I wasn’t aware of this at the time, but there is context that makes sense of this, in retrospect. I had found it hard moving up into secondary school around 11, and then on top of that I had been picked on a bit at school and outside of school by a couple of older boys. A lot of my fear of going outside was the idea of coming across them. It was name calling and a bit of physical intimidation, but it made me feel sick, so I just didn’t want to go. Then at 13, there were some big changes at home too, which while I couldn’t have expressed this at the time, I think just made me feel like home was unfamiliar and uncertain too.

My memories at this time are that my parents handled this in the way that I would want to: they tried to encourage me to go out and socialise, and make space for me to do that (letting me have friends over, that kind of thing), but I remained pretty withdrawn for a good while. In my personal opinion, I don’t think there is anything anyone could have done or said to me that would have helped me get to this point any sooner.

In my mind, this is an example highlighting a few things that I have learned not only from this experience, but from my work as a therapist, that I find helpful as a parent:

·      Things take time

·      You can create the space, but you can’t force the action

·      Some things we have to learn on our own

Things take time

It is tempting to view this one day as a catalyst. That things had just become uncomfortable enough so it forced me to make a change. While there is some truth to this idea, in this case I don’t think that is the full story.

I think I had had enough time, and things had changed.

The guys that had picked on me weren’t in my everyday school life any more, so I didn’t see them as much. I had grown and I had become more secure in some of my true friendships, so I didn’t feel that I was alone in dealing with it. I felt more strongly that I did have a place, that I belonged.

The changes at home were normal now. I had had time to settle into it. It wasn’t uncertain any more, it was known. I had had time and space to get used to it and to see that it was OK. I still had a home that was safe and secure for me. The dust had settled.

So while the withdrawing, avoiding, gaming and eating custard creams (I don’t say this to be critical of myself or to make light of it, I would genuinely eat a pack of custard creams in one go, and I think a big part of this was that it was another form of avoidance and trying to make myself feel comforted – I have compassion for myself for that) worked for me while I was in this not-so-great place, once things around me had started to improve and I felt more settled, I just didn’t need them so much any more. I didn’t have so much to escape from, and the idea of doing something different and potentially more useful didn’t scare me any more. I could say yes more easily.

As a parent, this helps me. When we see our children suffering or struggling with something, we of course want to fix it or deal with it immediately, but sometimes that’s just not realistic. Sometimes things take time to work through.

Some things you have to learn on your own

I don’t remember every moment of this period of time, but I know my parents and what I feel about it. I know they will have been supportive and tried to encourage me and talk to me about what was going on, but this is one of the worst things about being a parent: some things they have to come to on their own.

Much like how they both tried to tell me that it is worth putting effort into your schoolwork, it was only when I could see it for myself that I actually started making changes. Once I saw for myself that my choices weren’t actually making me happy (and, critically, that I felt capable of making different choices), then I could do the things they were suggesting to me all of this time, of my own accord.

You can create the space, but you can’t force the action

Now, that isn’t to say that my parents wasted their time trying to tell me. Far from it. Those messages were there, sitting in the background. They were heard, I didn’t believe them yet.

As a parent now, that helps me. It’s OK to tell your kids what you think, but just know that it might not sink in at this point. You can’t force it. Some things they have to come to on their own, and actually, creating the space where they feel safe and accepted, while offering encouragement and opportunity to do something that might help them out of it is the part that is in our control. The actual action is in the hands of the individual.

As a therapist, I would add to this: there is a principle in therapy that while the therapist might have some ideas about what would help, the client has way more knowledge about what would work for them and what wouldn’t. You can’t assume you know the best thing. You can introduce ideas but things work best when someone is able to consider things for themselves and apply things in their own unique way.

It can be very hard to sit with as a parent, but this personal experience helps me when I am finding that frustrating!

There are some things you just can’t teach and you can’t force. Some things just have to come from the individual themselves.

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Thanks for reading. Until next week,

Ted

P.S. When I talk to parents I often use the phrase “playing the long game” and this is an example here. The obvious signs of improvement came when I started going out on my bike, but there were signs before that, they were just small. Less friction about going to school, more ease about seeing my friends. They were smaller and less obvious, but they were no less important.