Parent-child wars at home

One of our most fragile relationships is in family life. Parents and children often have high expectations of each other. Children are supposed to equal, or even exceed, what their parents have attained. Likewise, children wish their parents were better, and showed great parental examples to inspire them.

When I was young, I wished my parents were more nurturing, more loving. I wished they were more knowledgeable and wiser, and that they cared more about my aspirations and apprehensions. That way, I thought, we would have been much closer to each other.

Every child needs to feel that he matters to his parents, that he is an important part of their lives. Of course, every child matters to his parents. But the child needs to see proofs of this, especially at a young age.

Without proof of parental love, the child will develop feelings of estrangement towards his parents. He will try, all by himself, to cope with his feelings of unimportance; he will strive so hard to be independent, to outgrow his need for parental involvement in his affairs. Then, in a life all his own, his parents will no longer have space.

There are, in my opinion, certain things that are most fundamental for a healthy parent-child relationship; for children to feel assured of their parents’ love, for parents to stay needed by and important to their children.

It is crucial that parents know how to really listen. Every child in distress needs a sounding board for his woes. In fact, as troubles come quite frequently to a young child, parents must never tire in providing solace and, instead, encourage the child to get everything off his chest, every time.

Furthermore, parents must make certain that they hear and understand correctly what the child is saying. All too often, we mishear or misunderstand what someone is trying to tell us. We listen through a filter, through the smoke screen of our own preconditioned minds, and then make something else of what someone is actually saying.

Feedback is necessary, to avert any possible miscommunication. It is nice if parents repeat to the child his own revelations; to say, for instance, “Okay, so you feel Ben is a threat to your feelings for Claire.” It is very reassuring, especially to a bewildered child, since there’s no one a child trusts quite like he does his own parents.

The parents need not pass judgments, and need not be defensive if the child’s revelation is about them. They only have to give their sincere attention; that’s comforting enough to the child. In the process, they will hear more, much more than the words said – they will hear the child’s true feelings, his deepest fears and yearnings.

The process, though, does not end there. Another crucial phase is the followthrough. It surely takes the child so much courage to open up to his parents; he needs to see results from his daring. Even if parents listen to the child until the end of time, repeat his words until no words or pauses are misheard or misunderstood, their patient efforts will amount to nothing if no tangible results happen afterwards.

If the child confides that he is having problems with other children and all the parents do is listen and echo his concerns, it does not appease the child’s anguish. He will remain to feel alone to face his troubles. Parents, however, may not always provide a satisfactory solution to every problem that comes the child’s way. At times, it is enough that they explain to him their own limitations.

Only when he experiences that his parents care about him, that they are there for him in his troubles and are interested in his success, will the child continue to crave for the parents’ presence in his life. Parents, therefore, must show to the child that they can be counted on and can be trusted – even if all they can afford to give their child is mostly good intentions.

These are not lessons my parents have deliberately taught me. Rather, these are the ones they unfortunately missed out on, but from which failing of theirs I have learned something valuable for raising my own child. I have always been very careful not to cause in my kid the same misgivings I harbored towards my own parents.

As a young person, I seldom asked for material provisions from my parents. They were poor, and I understood that. What I needed more from them was their attention and emotional support, something to hold on to as I faced life on my own. I didn’t get much of those, and I protested bitterly.

It took me a very long time, too much heartache, and a great measure of maturity and wisdom to come to comprehend my parents’ flaws. Like most parents, mine had not been particularly trained in child-rearing. My father was not some child psychologist or anything distantly similar, my mother, just a simple housewife; both of them raw, firsttimers in parenthood.

Some say that you only need to have genuine parental love to be a good parent to your children. Yet even the most loving parents need to have some skill for effectively demonstrating their love. Children can’t see the affection their parents don’t show, or hear the loving words their parents don’t say.

Sadly, some parents just happen to be very restrained, so lacking in the expression of their parental love. So I ask every aggrieved child to also consider that his parents’ coldness is not borne out of a deliberate intention to hurt him – that, in all probability, it may just be inherited behavior with them. As a parent myself, I know that in the deep core of every parent is an instinctive desire for the very best for his child.

We can learn from mistakes and failures as much as we can be inspired by achievements and good examples. We can be nourished by manifest love and affection. On the other hand, by our own scars we can be reminded to be more careful not to hurt others.