“Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision. ~Winston S. Churchill
During a recent episode involving a field trip my daughter was on, I found myself at a crossroads, struggling with the fear of expressing concerns early in the conversation. As a parent, I place a high priority on my children’s development, but maintain a balance between expressing my own needs and not jeopardizing relationships.
When I first read it, I thought the plans were too ambitious, so I wanted more information, I wanted to be able to express myself and feel heard. I place a high value on situations that give my children the opportunity to overcome challenges and build confidence and resilience, but I also want to make sure they are actually equipped to handle the challenges.
I know this all sounds reasonable, and it is, except for one thing: I’ve never been good at articulating my needs early in a conversation. Normally I would wait, worried about damaging the relationship, and only come in confidently when I actually had something to complain about.
The books I read and the classes I took taught me practical techniques for having difficult conversations, but the truth is, they always scared me in the absence of anything that truly made me angry.
Now that I’ve done a lot of inner personal work, I can easily see and share that I was hesitant to express myself because I didn’t want to create a rift in the relationship. That person is a pretty important figure in my child’s life. I was hesitant, too, because there was no anger to fuel my courage.
However, as a parent, I know that my involvement and advocacy can make a positive contribution to my child’s development, but I know it requires a thoughtful approach. This is often much easier when there is space and time to build trust in a relationship where tone, body language, and repeated successful interactions can go a long way.
In this case, the person making the trip is often not able to have a casual conversation because they are so busy. Therefore, any questions automatically become more formal since they must be expressed in writing.
Another dynamic that is easier for me to see now, after many years of personal work, is that this person has a tendency to be quite domineering, and being so busy, I worry that any sort of concern raised will be taken as criticism and Provoking angry or defensive reactions that lead to relationship breakdown.
It’s not because I’ve had this experience with this particular person. It has more to do with childhood patterns that are reinforced through other experiences in adulthood.
The fear I felt was an ancient fear that was trying to keep me safe. My Nervous System and Neurobiology says, “We know the warning signs. A bossy woman who won’t criticize is going to be in trouble, and that’s not good because her relationship is critical to your/your child’s survival.”
Of course this is not true and as an adult when I look at it through this lens I can see that this is not a mature reaction. But I can assure you, even knowing that the internal nervous system reactions and chemicals released that once kept me safe are now obsolete, and that the knowledge from that time no longer applies now, the panic is still mounting.
I spent some time crafting what I wanted to say. I spent more time revising it to make it balanced, concise, and reasonable (thankfully, I now have ChatGPT to help me with this). I then sensory-checked it with a trusted friend to make sure it represented my concerns in a balanced, respectful way.
Still, when I hit the send button, I paused in panic. If I could put this panic into words, it would be: “Wait a minute! This might destroy your relationship, and then you’ll be in trouble.” The implicit meaning of “trouble” is unclear, but I The nervous system clearly perceives this as a matter of life and death.
As my finger hovered over the send button, this journey toward confidence took an unexpected turn when a disturbing event occurred outside my door.
A father and his two young children stopped. The children were about three or four years old, and the little girl cried and protested against continuing, obviously exhausted. It was tea time and the children were riding their little bikes.
The father was probably in his early thirties and walking. He seemed to be of average height – of course, he looked like a giant to his kids looking up to him on the bike – and in his T-shirt and hat, he looked pretty athletic.
After a few minutes, my father lost his temper. Instead of comforting and encouraging his daughter, he yelled, “Shut up!” which was quite cruel to her. He continued ranting and threatened to never take them out again if they did it again. He then turned condescendingly to the little girl, pointed at her and shouted: “You’re such a kid! Stop!” several times.
I froze, and then I thought, “Am I going to intervene?” I knew I was witnessing a father in a traumatized state, doing to his child what might have been done to him. As Dr. Gabor Matt says, “It’s often not the child’s behavior that causes difficulty, but our intolerance of their negative reactions. The only thing parents have to control is our own anxiety and lack of self-control.”
If I were to intervene, the first thing I would do is help dad regulate his nervous system, make him feel calm and disarm him.
To do this, I need to summon my inner Christian Conte, the man behind Traveling through anger: New designs for dealing with conflict in an emotionally charged world. At an advanced stage in my communication journey, I decided to choose to be physically present and reassure the children with a friendly smile as they rounded the corner to continue their journey. But when I walked out, they were gone.
I sat and thought about what had just happened, my own nervous system in a state of flux from the interaction I had overheard. I felt very frustrated and realized that as I sat down, I was shaking a little. As I listened, my heartbeat finally slowed down and my ears regained hearing. I felt present and at peace in my surroundings again. Then I called my friend to discuss it.
Eventually, when my mind returned to what I had been doing before that disturbing interruption, I returned to my email.
I knew I was no longer a helpless child listening to the misguided outbursts of adults, and I did what I knew I had to do to appease my inner child and advocate for my daughter. I have to really put on my big girl pants and become a rational adult. I know I didn’t write anything I regret. I know I have maintained balance and clarity. I pressed send.
good results. My concerns were addressed, I felt heard and felt more confident about the trip.
In my fifties, I finally learned how to express my needs earlier in conversations. My life has always pushed me to learn lessons over and over again in every interaction that went off the rails.
I see this in my own children’s experiences during adolescence, when they were drawn to certain people who challenged them to learn how to respect themselves.
It took a while and I needed to step back and learn more about my reactions and learn the skills I needed to listen to myself, calm myself, and have compassion for myself.
How do you face conversations that require confidence? What fears or patterns might be holding you back?
Learning to speak up early in a conversation is not only a personal journey, it’s a valuable skill that fosters healthy relationships and empowers you to advocate for yourself and your loved ones. If not now, when?
