Chapter Three. I Just Need You To Be Okay.
Nobody Likes Me
When Daniel was in elementary school he was convinced the others at school didn’t like him. We just couldn’t believe that that was true.
Daniel was the easiest kid to get along with and was always so kind to everyone. He was definitely not a fighter, or in any way argumentative. I really couldn’t think of another kid with a more compassionate heart than Daniel. He used to save his allowance in a shoebox, so he could buy McDonalds gift certificates to hand out to homeless people when we would visit Boston.
It was just the worst for me to think about… How could my amazing son not be liked by other kids?
Every year when we went to parent/teacher conferences we shared our concern that Daniel was saying other kids in his class didn’t like him, and didn’t want to play with him. “Have you noticed Daniel being withdrawn or antisocial, or that he is not liked by the others?” we would ask.
The teachers always responded with surprised looks on their faces and assured us that Daniel was a great friend to the other kids, and how much they enjoyed having him in their class.
Naturally we were so relieved and thankful that Daniel’s view of things was not at all how it actually was. What the teachers were saying and what Daniel believed couldn’t both be true, so clearly Daniel had a distorted view of reality. It confirmed again, how he always seemed to look at life through such a negative lens.
After talking with the teachers, we would go home and assure Daniel that how he was feeling was really not based on reality. Whenever he would bring up his angst about how kids viewed him, we would remind him that this was just not true.
I was so sad that Daniel was having these feelings. I knew they felt real to him, but I thought that my acknowledging them would not be helpful. Somehow I was not comfortable letting both perspectives be true. So in my mind I could best help him by encouraging him to view life through a more positive lens.
Wouldn’t it be better for Daniel to learn to adjust his feelings?
What he was left with was his internal experiences being invalidated by us, leaving him to navigate his deep feelings of rejection on his own.
Doctor’s Visit
I was always a little nervous bringing Daniel to his annual doctor’s visit.
We really liked our pediatrician. He was very kind and good at engaging with the kids. But then there was that part when he would ask them more personal questions. It was clearly a time when the doctor was not looking for input from mom or helpful prompts to the kids from me.
Leah answered the questions so perfectly. It was clear she was a happy well-adjusted child with good feelings around school, friends and family. It made me smile inside and out, to hear her talk.
Daniel, on the other hand, was a little harder for me to sit quietly and listen to. I knew he was a well-adjusted child too, but because he felt things so deeply and experienced the full spectrum of feelings, he didn’t sound as confident.
So, when the doctor asked about if he sometimes felt sad, Daniel would always have so much to say...
I would sit quietly hoping he would not say too much and that the doctor wouldn’t get the wrong impression. What was he thinking about me as a mom? I was waiting to hear Daniel at least highlight some of the good stuff. He usually didn’t.
One year while we were at the doctor’s appointment after Daniel had shared some of his feelings, the doctor told him that if he’d like it, he could set up an appointment with someone for Daniel to talk to. Seriously? In my mind I quickly dismissed that thought. I knew that wouldn’t be necessary because Daniel had us and could talk to us about anything and everything.
After we got home and Daniel had gone up to his bedroom, he yelled down, “Mom! Can I get one of those people the doctor talked about?”
“What?” I yelled back. I ran upstairs and laid down on the bed next to him. “Oh honey, you don’t need that. You can talk to me about anything you want to talk about. You know that, right?”
End of story.
“I Just Wish He Was More Like The Other Boys”
When Leah was 13 and Daniel 12, it was a pretty rough year at our house.
Leah was becoming aware of how “ignorant and stupid” her parents were. She and I went from being very close, to me feeling like she was constantly saying, “Please. Do not invade my space.” Pretty much all the time.
Daniel got the worst of it. The two of them had always been very close and had spent a lot of time together. Now she was acting as if Daniel had the plague. It was painful for all of us.
One afternoon I picked Leah up from her friend’s house and on the drive home she began to share how she was feeling about her brother and how terribly she was treating him.
She said she felt embarrassed about how different he was from the other boys at school. She had friends who had younger brothers Daniel’s age, but he really didn’t fit in with them and had such different interests.
“I always thought it would be different having a little brother, but he hasn’t turned out at all like I had imagined. I don’t like it. I just wish he was more like the other boys.”
We drove around for a while talking about what Leah had imagined and hoped for in her brother. Maybe it was okay to feel sad about not having that? Things were not as she had expected and had hoped for. That was disappointing. And the reality was that Daniel would never be that.
We also talked about all the things we loved about Daniel that made him who he truly was. There were so many! So how could we accept and love what was, while still being okay with being sad about what wasn’t?
Giving Leah permission to be sad about what wasn’t… was also giving me permission to do the same.
It was hard for me to actually admit that I was also sitting with disappointments of my own. There were many things I had envisioned for my son. Things I assumed he would enjoy and be involved with. But that just wasn’t who Daniel was.
I always felt when other moms would say about their sons, “He’s all boy!” they would say it with such pride. I hated that those words made me feel a little envious and that I couldn’t say the same.
This conversation was an important one for Leah, but maybe even more so for me.
Leah even let Daniel come to her thirteenth birthday party!
“I’m The Worst Person In This Family!”
Scott and I have attended many intensive, experiential, character development trainings and have also facilitated many such small groups and retreats.
We both love to talk about personal transformation, examine thoughts and motives, and have deep conversations around the dinner table. This has not always been a joy to our kids, even though both Leah and Daniel are pretty in touch with their feelings and very good at expressing them.
At one of our evening dinners Scott had just returned from South Dakota where each year he is invited to speak and facilitate workshops. It’s an annual conference for teachers, therapists and social workers from around the world. It’s also a place of sharing newfound research and best practices for dealing with issues around challenging children and youth.
Scott was always eager to share with us what he had learned, and this year a well known psychologist had spoken about homosexuality. As he began to share, Daniel got up from his chair, clearly angry, and ran upstairs to his room. Leah yelled after him, “Why are you so mad? This is really interesting. I want to hear this!”
This was not the only time he stormed away from the dinner table angrily. It seemed that when we engaged in the most meaningful and personal conversations, Daniel would get extremely uncomfortable and leave.
One night when we were having a really meaningful conversation and the subject had gotten to personal things, Daniel blurted out:
“I’m the worst person in this family!”
“What? What kind of statement is that?”
I’m pretty sure if each of us privately had to cast a vote on which family member was the most loving and kind, Daniel would have won hands down.
I was so shocked when he said that.
“Where in the world would you get that idea from? That is absolutely the furthest thing from the truth!”
Did Daniel think he had done bad things that were worse than any of the rest of us?
I’m pretty sure, I assured him that Dad had done a lot of bad things that were way worse than anything he would ever do. In my estimation, in fact, Scott had a past that made the rest of us look like angels!
“I just know I’m always a disappointment,” was Daniel’s response.
I completely dismissed what Daniel was feeling. To explore with him what was behind him feeling like a disappointment, could lead to a conversation about ways I had contributed to him feeling that way. I really wasn’t up for that.
So much for loving personal transformation, and exploring my motives and feelings. Instead I had to correct him and convince him that, once again, there was overwhelming evidence to prove that he was wrong about how he felt.
What if I had dared to explore what was underneath all of what he was trying to say?
“Who You ARE is a Judgment!”
We were sitting in the driveway. Leah must have already gotten out of the car, because it was just Daniel and me, and he was sitting in the back seat. Daniel said something that I must have responded to with some disapproval.
I always weighed in on things that concerned my kids if I felt it was not a good thing for them.
He responded with anger and said, “Why are you ALWAYS judging me?”
That was a really strong response, and I felt it was very unfair and undeserved.
“What are you talking about?! I do NOT judge you! I have given you so much freedom and have been so open-minded. You have got to be kidding me!” I responded angrily.
He responded back, “Who you ARE is a judgment!”
I lost it! I ran out of the car, slammed the door, and went straight upstairs to our bedroom. I sat on my bed sobbing. I was devastated.
I really felt that I had worked so hard at being an understanding and supportive mom. Was I not supposed to have any opinions? Or give guidance to my children? Or share my wisdom? I mean, those things do seem to be in the “good mom” job description.
I just wanted to help my children make good decisions and help keep them on a good path.
And now Daniel is accusing me of basically BEING judgment? No, I could not bear that!
Didn’t I get any credit at all for my hard work on being open-minded? I decided that he had spoken out of turn, and he was just plain wrong in HIS judgment of me.
It took me quite a while to even get to the place of considering that Daniel actually felt judged by me. And that I was not the only one feeling some pain right now.
I finally called down to Daniel and asked if he would come upstairs for a minute.
I told him I wanted to hear from him. I wanted to hear what he was feeling from me. I don’t know that I listened very courageously, but I did listen. It hurt so much to hear all that was coming from him.
I did open myself up to at least consider the possibility that I came across judging, but I’m not sure I admitted that I actually was passing judgment.
Is judgment always a fear response?
This was scary, honest stuff for me to reflect on.
The gap between what I, in my mind was sure I was exuding, and what Daniel was actually experiencing from me, was quite a wakeup call for me. And an invitation for me to explore.
Which I did… at least a little.
