Two minutes after dropping my kids off at camp, I saw pain in her eyes. My 5 year old daughter was distraught because her older sister would not play with her on the playground. She was feeling the pain of rejection. As I looked into those tear streaked brown eyes my first impulse was to make the pain go away. My mind quickly contempated the possibilites.
I could order or convince her sister to play with her.
I could find something more fun to do.
I could distract her from the hurt.
I could offer her a snack.
I could tell her to think positively.
I could promise her a present.
I could tell her not to worry about it, her sister really did love her.
I could pretend as if this wasn’t worth being sad about.
Part of me desperately wanted to make the pain go away.
My impulses were there because most of us have been trained to avoid our feelings, to be happy above all else, to not outwardly show how we’ve been hurt. We inacurately label this as strength. We develop elaborate decoy or distraction systems to keep from feeling our uncomfortable feelings. Many of us are never taught how to feel our sadness, anger, or disapointment. It stays inside, behind those beautiful and increasingly desperate eyes. (Don’t get me wrong. There are some times when outwardly showing emotions is a mistake, but most of the time its ok.)
Before I allowed myself to speak, I took some deep breaths, grounded myself, and felt her hand in mine for a good long minute. Then I knew what to do. I sat down with her and took her into my arms. It felt good to just hold her and allow her to be sad. I said, “You are sad, and that’s okay. Can you allow the sadness?” She nodded her head.
After crying for a minute, she wiped her tears on my dress (I haven’t yet figured out how to have enough tissues on hand to always avoid becoming a human napkin. Please mention suggestions in the comments section.) Then she ran off and started playing with another classmate.
