Steve Biddulph writes about how we need each other when we are upset.
You’re on your way in the car to pick up your kids from somewhere. Your thoughts are on your plans for the rest of the day and a busy weekend ahead.
Suddenly, your attention is grabbed by a car coming towards you on the highway. It has veered into your lane and is headed straight for you – fast.
You hit the brakes, your stomach clenches, and you get ready to swerve off the road but – gasp – just seconds before it hits you head-on, it pulls back into its lane and speeds away.
Nothing has happened, in the sense that there was no collision, no damage, no injuries. But you are really not the same.
Your heart is racing and your whole body is clammy with sweat, you might even feel like throwing up.
You can barely keep driving, but there is no choice because, well, the kids will be waiting.
When you get to your destination a few minutes later, if it’s somewhere a bit formal – like a pickup from childcare or a piano lesson with a grumpy teacher – then you just have to wing it. When they say hello, you put on your cheery face and pretend you are just feeling great.
But if it’s somewhere friendly – your mum’s house, or a good friend who has minded your kids, or their lovely grade one teacher – and they ask how you are, then an interesting thing might happen.
You find yourself blurting out, “I almost got killed by someone crossing the lanes just then!”
You might shiver and shake or burst into tears. If it’s been a bad day and this was just the last straw, you might really lose it.
And they will say, “Oh no, that’s terrible,” and come and give you a hug, and that hug will really help.
You might spend a minute or two telling them what happened, where it was, how scary it was, and how you really thought you were going to die. Your heartbeat would slow down, your breathing would go back to normal, and your optimism would return.
Things in life will upset us. It is not easy to let go of these unless we have someone kind and not upset to be a quiet anchor to steady us.
To do that, they need to be calm, have a bit of time, and be able to give us the attention we need as we struggle to find the words, let the physical tensions go, and make sense of what happened.
Today’s language for what happens to us – often several times a day – is that we get “dysregulated”.
We feel shaken up and even “have a meltdown” or “lose it”.
Kids have this happen all the time because they are just learning about life and because the modern world is madness with its rush and hurry and overstimulation.
So along with fixing food, keeping them organised, reading them a story, or washing their clothes, a big part of our job is helping each other “re-regulate”.
When we notice someone in our family is upset, we drop into quiet mode and breathe slowly, listen to what they are saying, hold back from offering advice, and notice if they need or want physical comfort.
They will sense this caring attention, and out will pour a whole bundle of heartaches or concerns.
At these times, almost the less we say, the better – just a few sympathetic sounds, some acknowledgment of how they feel.
If we can let this just be and not get dysregulated ourselves, they will soon get through it.
Years afterwards they’ll remember you as someone who really knew how to love.
Steve Biddulph wrote the world’s top-selling parenting book Raising Boys, plus Fully Human and Raising Girls. He lives in Tasmania and makes up silly songs for his grandchildren.
