Читать книгу Parenting the New Teen in the Age of Anxiety - John Duffy - Страница 9
ОглавлениеJason’s Story: What Are We Missing?
Jason is sixteen years old. He is bright and personable. He has a job he does well and shows respect for the paycheck he draws. He is an Honor Roll student, popular and handsome. He also manages the awkward setup of a therapy room with unusual grace. He can pick up the trickiest guitar leads by ear, eliciting no small degree of jealousy from his rusty therapist. By all accounts, life is good for Jason. He frequently cites that he has grown up privileged: nice house, plenty of money, generally sweet and loving parents. A seemingly uneventful coming-of-age story.
Jason has also, however, done two separate stints in inpatient therapy, one for suicidal ideation with clear intent to harm himself, the other for marked drug abuse. The drugs he ingested ranged from alcohol to marijuana, Benadryl in excess, Klonopin, Oxycodone, and a host of other prescription drugs, along with the occasional use of “club drugs” including Ecstasy and LSD. At one point, an ER doctor reported to Jason’s parents that he had been hours, if not minutes, from death when his ambulance arrived.
Now, you might be wondering how Jason, with this great life and this loving family, could possibly have ended up in these terrifying, life-threatening situations.
It’s a reasonable question.
Parents today are very involved—far, far more involved in the lives of their children than our parents were even a generation ago. Today, there are parent conferences, conventions, and Parent Universities. There are books and online groups and clubs and apps, all directing us toward improved parenting. I have had the good fortune to speak at many of these events, and to participate on many of these platforms. And lately, with permission, I have shared Jason’s story. The parental responses often surprise me:
“Clearly, his parents aren’t on it. Otherwise, they would know he isn’t okay.”
“This is on the parents. They must be missing the mark and selling you a bill of goods about being good parents.”
“This kid needs to take responsibility for his actions.”
“He needs a swift kick in the ass.”
But I can tell you with total assurance that these comments are missing the larger picture. For this is not just Jason’s story. This is, in many ways, the story of countless teenage boys and girls, both younger and older than you might think possible, across the country, across demographics, across socioeconomic strata.
This could be your child.
And the conventional solutions miss the mark as well, and are not really solutions at all.
Let me tell you more about Jason. He was a stellar athlete in grammar school, but quit sports around sixth grade. He earned straight A’s until roughly that same time. He hung out with friends, perfected moves on his skateboard, and tells idyllic stories of vacations with his family. He was the Academic All-American, the kid you want.
By junior high, as his parents describe it, the wheels started to wobble. He was looking down at his phone, engulfed in Snapchat and Instagram, overinvested in numbers of likes and views. He became deeply ensconced in video games, about which they knew nothing other than that they seemed unreasonably violent, and he seemed flat-out addicted to playing them. The rest of the time, he skulked up to his room and shut the door, the remainder of his day and evening shrouded in mystery.
Now, as far as they were concerned, Jason’s parents weren’t negligent. They were worried about him, so they tracked his phone whenever he was out, keeping watch over the moving blip on the map like military drone pilots, ready to strike and call the mission at any moment that looked dicey. They signed on daily to the school’s grade portal, collecting intel on not only cumulative grades, but each class skipped, each assignment missed, each quiz failed. Through a YouTube tutorial, they reverse-engineered passcodes for his phone and social media, allowing them real-time access to his texts, social media posts, and responses. They maintained a store of breathalyzers and drug tests in the medicine cabinet.
They amassed all the data that could possibly be available to a parent.
Alas, all they learned was that he was disengaged from school, disappearing into some “drug culture,” and slipping deeper into connections with his new “low-life, going nowhere” friends. And he was drifting further and further away from them. They felt as if, no matter what wisdom they offered, how often they addressed him in a positive tone, or whatever lightness they tried to bring to their relationships with him, he was drifting away.
And as far as they were concerned, they were doing it right. They had read my first book diligently. They had attended parenting conferences. Jason’s sister had turned out fine, so they were doing something right. They showed enormous faith in him on a regular basis, telling him they knew he could do better, in school, in choosing friends. This was keeping the bar high, right? This was proof that they had faith in him.
But if this method is supposed to work, then where is he, right? Where is our sweet, perfect guy?
Herein lies the quandary for the modern parent. We are scared. We are lost. We are feeling around in the dark, tracking the information we can, hoping to find our child, intact and safe.
Like Jason, today’s teenagers are, for the most part, a mystery to us parents. Let’s start by solving the mystery, bit by bit, as best we can. Then we can talk about what agency we have as parents to make things better.
And trust me. No matter what issues you might be struggling with, as a parent, as a family, things can get better.
I worked with a father and son late one evening recently. Dad was earnestly, admirably trying to connect with his struggling son, letting him know he understood what he was going through, and was familiar with his experience. After all, he was sixteen once, and it wasn’t all that long ago.
But in his son’s mind, he never was.
The emotional weight of being a teenager in today’s world bears only a faint resemblance to our experiences as teenagers a generation ago. I find that this is a critical concept that is very difficult for parents to understand and accept. Now, when I talk to groups of parents, I receive a lot of pushback on this concept.
“Of course, I was a full-fledged teenager. I felt that emotional weight. I felt that insecurity, in my body, in my personality, in my very being.”
And yes, to an extent, we can relate. But the truth is, you were never this teenager.
Our teenage concerns, free of the weight of social media “likes,” the pace of online chaos, the overarching academic pressures, and the wildly unreasonable body-image demands, are artifacts of an era gone by. All of these factors play into the self-esteem and the daily measurement of self-worth of the typical teenager, tween-aged child, or young adult today.
So, the bad news is that you’ve got a lot to learn. The good news is that you have teachers, likely right down the hall from you right now. Addressed openly and without an agenda, your children will likely be happy to introduce you to the complications of their daily lives.
And trust me, the stakes are high. You need that introduction into their ever-changing world. And you’ll need follow-up as well. Otherwise, you are parenting from a handbook with wildly outdated information. Not only might you be unaware of the nuances of the ills of vaping versus Juuling, but the nature of social pressures, future fears, and sometimes hopelessness may elude you as well.
So, ask the questions that may scare you. Listen to the answers, even if they are not what you want to hear. That way, your child will know you are there for her, to walk by her side, through the unpredictable tangle of adolescence.
Your child needs you. Now more than ever.
I encourage you to go to school on this next generation. Sometime in the car, or during breakfast, or before bed, ask them.
Ask them what their friends are up to these days. Ask about kids their age. Be curious; do not interrogate.
“What are other kids doing? Are they smoking, drinking, vaping? Are they having sex? Is anyone super-depressed, self-harming? Is there anyone you’re worried about?”
“How do you feel about it all? What are you doing?”
And most importantly, “How are you doing?”
These may seem like very dramatic questions, but I can virtually promise you, your child will be more comfortable than you are talking about this stuff. And it’s crucial that you find that comfort zone in yourself, breathe deeply, ask, and talk. It’s the only way I know to create that elusive collaboration with your teenager, and she needs that. With you.
Keep asking. Create an easy, open line of communication. Speak your piece and let her speak hers. Let the resounding thought she’s left with be, “No matter what, I’ve got your back. You can come to me.”
This is precisely the approach I encouraged for this dad the other night. I know that, if he follows that advice, he can put me out of business in his son’s life quickly and forge that connection and collaboration.
First, believe it or not, we have to revisit what we mean when we use the term “teenager.” Since the coining of the term, it has always demarcated a stage of physical development, as well as a shift in self-awareness and emotional development. On the emotional side, the primary challenge faced during adolescence is the establishment of an identity separate and apart from Mom, Dad, and other familiar adults. Historically, the actual teenage years, thirteen to nineteen, have framed this developmental period, both physically and emotionally, quite well. Parents and families have supported this progression over the generations, controlling the flow of information our children take in and assessing what’s appropriate for them at different ages. The bolder among us have introduced the topics of sexuality, drug use, social difficulties, and other issues at the onset of these years, and dished out information as deemed developmentally appropriate.
The way the culture was constructed and driven, and the way we have parented in the past, supported the onset of adolescence around thirteen years of age, and the completion of that identity formation, more or less, at about nineteen. There were exceptions, of course, but they were fairly obvious, enough so that the adult cavalry—parents, schools, churches, and neighbors—could intervene and redirect a child toward the appropriate developmental markers, should they stray too far off course.
Now, we are going to find that the “teen” designation is no longer entirely valid, certainly not the way it has been used historically. Because of a combination of unlimited access to information, the advent of social media and other technology, rising academic pressures, and other familial and social stressors, the teen years as we think of them have stretched to well before thirteen on the early end, and beyond nineteen on the back end. Some of those “teenage” discussions—those talks about sex, drugs, depression, anxiety, suicide, events in the news—we need to begin with children at often uncomfortably young ages. We lack the control that we used to have over what young kids might be exposed to, so we must be aware and prepared to address issues and take on discussions that would typically be reserved for much older kids.
We are also witnessing a prolonged adolescence on the back end, as our young adults remain stifled by the overwhelming load of information, emotion, and identity confusion they are processing through the teen years. They remain unclear about their place in the world well into their twenties.
The Disappearance of the Tween
When titling my first book, The Available Parent, the word tween carried some distinct meaning, so much so that it was part of my subtitle. This was a preadolescent stage, couched between the ages of ten and twelve or so. But you likely notice, with perhaps a note of alarm, how younger children seem to be adopting the behaviors and attitudes we used to see in tweens and even teens. These include, but are certainly not limited to:
- A draw toward social media
- Development of sexual identity
- Body consciousness
- Mention of feeling depressed or anxious
- Talking back
- Testing boundaries behaviorally
In a sense, the tween years have disappeared, and our children are developmentally sprung from childhood into adolescence without the cushion of a couple of years to get accustomed to new thought patterns and behavioral draws.
As suggested above, we would love to allow for more years of childhood innocence before this adolescent-type behavior and thinking kicks in. But we are dealing with a brand-new reality here, a developmental leap with our younger children in which they skip the cushion of the “tween” years. Given these recent changes, I again encourage you to consider to begin to talk with your younger children, considering their personal maturity and developmental level, about the issues you may have thought were reserved for teens or tweens. Begin to gently work your way toward talking, and asking, about the opposite sex, drug use, insecurities, mental health, and so on. The key here is to let your kids know, earlier than you may think necessary, that you are aware, informed, and available to talk, on any subject, at any time.
I have described the above phenomenon, the stretching of adolescence and the resulting fallout, to a number of colleagues and friends. And I have been faced with skepticism, the prevailing question being, “How do I know this seismic shift is actually taking place?”
It’s an entirely fair question. What I’m suggesting here is not simply that our children are experiencing more, and taking in more stimuli, at earlier and earlier ages. No, it runs far deeper than that. I’m suggesting that developmental patterns that have stood for decades, if not centuries, have shifted in a matter of just a few years. I’m suggesting that our children are developing a sense of self and awareness of others at much earlier ages than ever before. I’m suggesting that the very nature of childhood is shifting at an unprecedented pace, right under our noses, and very few people are fully aware of either the phenomenon or its potent impact on the totality of a child’s life today.
I spent an hour with Jack recently, a deep and thoughtful nineteen-year-old lamenting the apparent generational gap between himself and his brother, only four years his junior. “I worry about Ryan and his generation, man. They have a lot more stress than we did at fifteen. They were born in the iPhone era, and the pressure of social media and all that is in their DNA. We were born just before all that. I can remember that time. We would just play outside all the time. Ryan and his friends are never outside, and they seem so sedated: no hobbies, no interests. They just sit around vaping and joy-sticking their lives away [laughs]. I wish they saw the world more like I do. I see the future, and it’s out there and big and exciting. Ryan and his dudes, I don’t think they get that.”
He worries more about his younger sister, only nine, and her generation. “I don’t think we have any idea how fast those kids are growing up, right now.”
In some form or fashion, I have heard Jack’s sentiment expressed with alarming regularity over the course of the past several years. Yes, the very nature of childhood is entirely different, quite suddenly. And if brothers only four years apart sense a gap, we have to recognize the degree to which we ourselves have precious little in common with our children. Given this sudden developmental shift, this sudden leap from childhood to adolescence, we have everything to learn. We parents today are true pioneers, whether we choose to be or not. We have to parent with more thought and care, as there are pitfalls we can guide our kids safely beyond if we arm ourselves with sufficient information.
Now, I know it is real, the dramatic nature of this shift, because I have a highly unusual job. I work with these children, many hours a day. And I can tell you, unequivocally, the patterns are not vague. The shift is abundantly clear. And the fallout is overwhelming at best, but devastating in the extreme. Let’s review some of the grim realities:
•Children report strikingly more stress now than ever before.
•Poor self-esteem, and a higher degree of self-loathing, are reported by children now more than ever before.
•Body image issues are far more prevalent now than ever before, and at shockingly early ages.
•Substance abuse is on the rise, often in the pursuit of self-medication, and the nature and type of substances used are shape-shifting.
•Suicide rates are skyrocketing among young people.
•We have seen a precipitous rise in school shootings, and other mass shootings, by young people.
So, the urgency to recognize and acknowledge this shift lies in the fact that we are losing children in record numbers, either literally or figuratively. Consider all the talent and joy and contribution lost when just one teen takes their own life. In aggregate, I fear we are heading in a direction in which we lose the gifts of countless young people, even as they continue to draw breath. And we are all the worse for the losses, without a doubt.
For I find that the young people who are vulnerable, who struggle to find value in themselves, and feel their feelings so strongly, are the very people we need most right now. They don’t recognize their value, but in reality, it knows no bounds. We have to save them, for their sake and for our own.
Think back to your childhood: a component of the ease of that time was less self-awareness, less insecurity, and few comparisons to others. Younger children didn’t consider, to the degree teenagers did, whether other kids were smarter, more athletic, better looking, and so on. For a time, the pace of brain development provided a layer of protection from some of these insecurities. For those of you who were the exception, you know how painful it can be to make those comparisons, as we tend to evaluate ourselves negatively in every respect, “one down” from others.
Now, picture an eight-, nine-, or ten-year-old today. He or she is likely very aware of their “imperfections,” real or merely perceived: their bodies, their minds, even the socioeconomic status of their family, relative to their peers. And, like the rest of us, they also tend to make “upward” social comparisons, matching themselves up with children they perceive as “better” than them in whatever aspect of self they are evaluating.
And kids today are exposed to the stimuli that fuel these comparisons many times, every single day. We used to have so many distractions and buffers, in our lives as kids, that provided even the most insecure among us a cloak of emotional fuzziness. This blur slips into harsh, blunt focus for children now. It’s right there, in their pocket, waiting to remind them that they are not good enough.
Consider the ideas that have historically made us insecure as adults. Our children are now aware of: the negative, upward comparisons to others; the idea that we may lack something important, or not have enough of it; the idea that we may be unloved or unlovable. These are now entering the consciousness of young children. And the thoughts on these topics are far from occasional, or even daily. Because of the nearly constant influx of stimuli in their lives, the traffic and noise in their very active minds, these thoughts play out nearly constantly for them.
And if these issues regularly create insecurity in us as adults, just imagine the impact they can have on the psyches of children, especially young children. And the imagery is relentless. They feel insecure virtually every day. It’s pretty terrifying, for them and for us.
An Exercise in Self-Conscious Language
I encourage you to spend a day attending to your child, especially your young child, and the language they tend to use, especially regarding themself. Do you hear self-consciousness in their language? Do they reflect on how they look, or the nature of their personality, relative to others? Do they show signs of being self-deprecating, or insecure?
If they are beginning to show signs of self-consciousness in their thoughts and language, reflect aloud on your feelings about them. You’ve likely got a window here to guide them toward thinking more positively about themself. Show them the positive through your words, authentically (they will know if you are disingenuous). And model positive self-reflection in your own language about yourself. Through this exercise, you can help set them on a path toward positive self-regard.
In the political swirl of recent years, our kids’ generation has been labeled soft, coddled “snowflakes” who cannot handle and manage the realities of the “real world.” They have been described as vapid, weak, self-involved people lacking true moral structure. Because they are so soft, sensitive, and self-involved, the narrative goes, they insist on gender-neutral bathrooms, safe spaces on campuses, and so on. And kids are aware enough, and well-read enough, to know that this is what we, generally, think of them.
This perception could not be further from the truth. These children have developed the ability to take on the perspective of others and, as a result, experience empathy without having to be lectured about it, as so many of us were. They feel abundant empathy, from a very early age, to the extent that they are emotionally overwhelmed. I believe kids feel more deeply now than they ever have, but their young minds are wholly unprepared for the broad perspective they have on the world, including the awareness of the suffering of others.
Kids today have an exceptionally high empathy load. If their friends are hurting, they are hurting. It’s also important to remember that if you are hurting, they feel that as well. I don’t know the parent who wants to pile their suffering onto their child, but your children are absorbing that nonetheless. It’s important that you know that, along with their anxiety, your anxiety and fear is in their head as well.
Also, children today are far more open-minded, accepting of differences, and inclusive. They hold opinions on politics and culture. They are less likely to tolerate bullying or injustice of virtually any kind, and they recognize the emotional complexities not only of their own lives, but of the lives of others as well. This ability is creating a far more empathic generation, a generation far more engaged socially and politically than any generation preceding them. They feel deeply, not only their own joys, pains, and sorrows, but those of others as well, especially their peers. Too often, they serve as de facto therapists for one another, forgoing homework or sleep in favor of working through a friend’s emotional difficulties. I have been told countless stories of suicidal teens claiming they would not be drawing breath were it not for a caring friend available to them in the middle of the night.
As a result, a striking number of kids say they want to do what I do as adults. They want to help others.
Of course, as much as this appears to be an encouraging phenomenon, it is challenging as well. I lean on five years of graduate school and endless hours of supervision to do this type of work effectively, and our kids are attempting to save the actual and emotional lives of their friends, on their own, often silently, with no training whatsoever. It can be an unreasonable, dangerous task for them to take on.
And I have worked with more than one child who served as a default counselor to a friend who has actually gone on to take his or her own life. And the ensuing guilt, that nagging question of whether he or she could have done something more to prevent the tragedy, does far more emotional damage than any child should ever have to bear.
You may wonder why our children talk to each other, especially when they feel emotions that may be life-threatening. I’ve asked a number of kids that very question, and the answers are unequivocal, and strikingly consistent. We parents are too often afraid of their fears, depression, and anxiety. Further, our kids are fully aware of our fear. So, they often go elsewhere. Shifting this dynamic is a crucial component of the parenting mandate here. Because children are not prepared to feel this degree of psychic pain, nor are they prepared to guide one another through it. So, we need to allay our own fears in order to be fully available to our children when they are in the fog or darkness of anxiety and depression.
When we feel that inclination to shrink away from our child, or that draw toward anger because they are presenting us with some powerful negative emotion we feel we cannot control, we need to turn directly toward them. We need them to know they can come to us when they feel their worst.
Though I do not blame social media for all of the difficulties our children are suffering through, it does provide a frighteningly consistent set of comparison points for our newly self-conscious kids:
“She’s better looking than I am.”
“He’s built better than me.”
“She’s way more popular than me—look at all those followers and likes.”
“He has no acne, and I’m covered in it.”
“She’s so much skinnier than I am.”
“He gets so many more girls than me.”
For just a moment, picture the scene: Your child is alone in her room, silent, door closed. She is shut off from the world, alone with her social media. She reviews Instagram, and sees other girls posting photos (typically carefully selected from perhaps hundreds of selfies) doctored in the extreme, every blemish removed, every unwanted ounce erased, hair treated and digitally dyed, the posts accumulating likes as she watches. Your child looks on in a state of constant comparison, self-esteem bruised.
She switches to Snapchat, another widely-used social media platform. There, she may see group chats that exclude her, Snap streaks (consecutive days in communication with another user) broken, or friends at a party she either was never invited to, or was lied to by a friend about attending. And right before her is photographic evidence, not only that it is taking place, typically in real time, but also that it is awesome (for who among us presents our lonely, homely, broken moments on social media?).
In the past, we may have suspected that other people were deemed more popular than we were, or better looking, or were included socially on a more regular basis. Kids today—they know. They can see it, as they sit there alone, in their rooms, wondering why they were the ones excluded. And trust me here, many, many kids feel as if they have been singled out and left out. And they feel as if they are the only ones. This I hear an awful lot as well.
And here’s where it gets even trickier. I worked with a sixteen-year-old girl, Christine, a while back who demonstrated for me how she crafted her daily selfie Instagram post. First, she would take hundreds of photos from various angles, trying to capture the cutest, brightest, thinnest, most perfect shot. Then, she would get to work editing the photo as described above. All told, Christine informed me that the process took, on average, about an hour a day.
During one session, she showed me her photo from the day before. She said, “Cute, right? I know, it actually looks nothing at all like me.” Then she added, “But look at all the likes!”
Imagine the dissonance here: I take hundreds of selfies in order to find one that is workable, that makes me look physically acceptable. Then, I will change virtually every element of the pic, until I am nearly unrecognizable as myself. Only then am I willing to post my imposter image in order to gain likes, the slimmest of substitutes for self-worth.
And Christine is smart. She knows she is fooling herself. She’s receiving the likes, but she is keenly aware that she has effectively manufactured something to attain them. It’s a pretty empty win. But it works like an addiction. She feels as if she needs the likes, that they define an important part of her. Without them, she fears she would feel even worse about herself.
“This doesn’t really represent me, but I’ll be making another post like this tomorrow.”
Teenagers fall into these daily loops easily, as posts and likes quickly become primary components of their sense of self-worth. And on Snapchat, for instance, the loops are encouraged, as kids work to sustain Snap streaks, in which they send and receive daily strings of messages to and from the same people. I have seen teenagers in tears when their phones are taken away as part of a punishment for some behavior or another. Often, the fear is that their Snap streaks will be broken, and their friends will have perpetuated longer streaks with other friends, making them less relevant, literally out of the social game. Even one day off breaks a streak, and can truly feel socially devastating. This all sounds absolutely ridiculous, I know.
But remember: your child did not come up with any of this, and as far as she is concerned, it has always been this way.
Herein lies a big part of the problem social media presents to our teens. Too often, they open their account with little self-worth, that sense of self-consciousness and negative comparisons to others striking them early in their lives. Social media being such a potent part of the currency of adolescence, and so critical to connection with peers, it’s all but necessary for a thriving social life. But there is a massive layer of demand presented to kids as well. They not only feel the need to be “on” when they are at school or out with friends, but even when they are alone, during what once was downtime for children, they are working through their alternate identity, the one they are crafting on social media.
And make no mistake, social media is an enormous component of social currency, now and for the foreseeable future. And it is a craft. Have a look at your son or daughter’s Instagram feed, their most recent Snap story. I suspect it is artful, or funny, or clever, or beautiful. Your kids work on this. For many, it is their primary method for bolstering their self-esteem, for forming an identity. Given that this is the first generation presented with this pressure-filled mandate, it’s worthwhile to take a moment and marvel at what they have created out of the blank slate of an empty profile. They didn’t come up with this—it has been foisted upon them. We owe them a moment of credit for what they do there.
Social media has rapidly become integral to teenage identity and self-worth. We don’t have to appreciate this reality, but we do need to recognize and accept it.
There is another dark, insidious reality to social media. Bullying has become more of an online activity than a physical one. I have worked with so many teenagers who have had to see hate posts, and hate pages, put up online about them, for either all the world to see or, at the very least, their entire class. In part because they are created online, the assaults are more vicious and intense, the hate and berating more unbearable, than a physical confrontation in a school hallway could ever be. Cowardice works that way; it’s the road rage of the internet. And like everything else posted “out there,” the bullied teen can, and often does, revisit that awful page over and over again.
The bullied child will often tell me and their parents that it is no big deal, it’s just playful, or it really doesn’t hurt that much. But the pain is too palpable to ignore. If you find there is a bullying page or post about your child, it is time to advocate hard for her. Get on the phone with other parents. Call the school. Let it be known that this behavior will not be tolerated. I will warn you that your child will try to talk you out of this, suggesting that calling attention to the bullying will only make it worse. But that tends not to be the case in reality. Once called out, bullies tend to back down, especially if a grounding, suspension, or even expulsion lies in the balance. Having worked with bullies, I find they also feel a deep sense of shame and regret once exposed to the light of day. Bullying is more a projection of self-disdain than it is loathing for a classmate.
In fact, we need to pause and note here that bullying, online or otherwise, is never a one-dimensional issue. Part of the problem we have culturally is labeling without understanding, and bully is a heavy label. I have worked with many bullies in my career. And each time, I realize quickly that, though bullying may well be a behavior this child manifests, there are emotional reasons underlying their negative and hostile actions. More often than not, I find that, some time in their lives, bullies have been bullied, by a peer, a parent, or some other trusted adult in their lives. I find that bullies are, right under the arrogant and angry surface, deeply insecure, often lashing out before they can be victimized themselves. In order to evoke change culturally, we need to understand the pain of the bully as well as that of the bullied, and make sure that both receive the help they need to heal and move on. If we tend only to the bullied, we may unwittingly be perpetuating a cycle that can last for generations.
Keep this in mind if your child is accused of bullying of any kind. This behavior is unacceptable and damaging, but it is also, in its own way, a cry for help. Part of your mandate as a parent is to answer that cry. Make sure your child receives the help she needs, and please do not shy away from seeking professional help for your child. I cannot think of many circumstances under which this is a bad idea.
Okay, back to social media.
On the whole, I find that social media is too often a primary source of conflict between parents and children. And I get it—it is maddening to see your child, face down, constantly illuminated by the glow of their phone screen. But we need to keep in mind the meaning held in that screen for them.
And we need to present them with options. This is among the most important tasks parents need to face. I am often asked to provide a number: how much time per day is acceptable on social media?
It’s a fair question, but it’s the wrong question. More on this later.
Now, to be fair, many young people have offered me a very reasoned counterpoint to the scourge of screens and social media, a marked upside.
I was musing recently with a teenage client, Thomas, playing with the idea often spouted by my generation and the generation preceding me that kids today, through the shorthand of texting, emojis, memes, and flat-out stupid communication through Snapchat, are bastardizing and ruining the language. “Kids can’t write, or read, anymore,” “The art of intelligent discourse is dead,” I hear frequently. My wise young client Thomas pushed back hard on this notion, suggesting that quite the opposite is true. He pointed out, accurately, that his generation is actually very well-read and well-informed. Along with many of his contemporaries, he noted that his generation reads all the time, and is learning to be far more discerning and critical of what they ingest through all the internet has to offer.
“On our phones, we read way more than you guys did when you were our age, no doubt.”
Fair enough, Thomas.
He cited, in particular, Reddit, an online clearinghouse of news digests, memes, jokes, and debates. Picture a Huffington Post for young people. It can be vulgar and offensive at times (that’s part of the point), but it can be thought-provoking and highly informative as well. Twitter is another of his “news” sources, though with both sites, he does feel the need to dig in and verify information before developing an opinion.
So, Thomas would argue that his generation reads an incalculable number of pages of information per day, and is discerning truth and developing points of view nearly constantly, in real time. Unlike our generation, he would argue, they think in sophisticated ways all the time, every day. That discernment of thought may not be measured by exams in an English class, but Thomas does argue that it is a life skill his generation is the first to master at an early age, and which, in the internet age, will prove to be even more critical as time goes on.
Thomas would agree, by the way, that he and his friends communicate frequently via text shorthand, meme, or emoji. But he would further argue that older generations are missing the point. There is an understanding between young people that these methods are foolish and inane at times, but that is part of the humor in communicating that way. He adds that, “Well, at the very least, we are communicating, way, way more than your generation. We are in nearly constant touch with each other. So, if you guys are worried that we are socially out of touch, I think you’re 100 percent wrong.”
With smartphones, and the social and other media that accompany them, our kids discern more and think more than we ever did at their ages. We would do well to recognize, and find new ways to value, this fresh set of skills our kids are developing.
I also think we need to integrate some of them into our middle school and high school curriculum, by the way. I worked with Nathan, a bright, out-of-the-box-thinking nineteen-year-old, as he reflected on his high school years. Between sessions of taping a podcast with him, he offered the following wisdom:
“I can’t believe we are still working with this outdated method of teaching, with textbooks and lectures, man! And the exams and papers, all the ways we measure what we’ve learned, it all needs to change. I mean, the reality is we do have the internet, and we do have brains. And these are the things we are going to use every day for the rest of our lives to distill information. But school systems work the same way they did fifty years ago, when none of this even existed. They’ve got to change with the times. Because I know a lot of brilliant kids. But that genius isn’t gonna show up on a report card anymore.”
You may not agree, but he’s got both a point, and a point of view, right?
I have noted some other interesting forms of backlash to the onslaught among a select few young people. I have worked with several teenagers who, for various behavioral or emotional health-based reasons, have been sent by their families to therapeutic wilderness camps. I am quite fond of these settings, not only for the intensive individual and group therapy they provide, but also for taking troubled kids entirely out of their unhealthy context, providing them an immediate, far healthier geographic setting in which to heal. Set in beautiful outdoor locations, these camps are fully outdoors, and campers are, often for the first time in the lives, responsible for themselves and each other for food, shelter, warmth, and travel on foot from one site to the next for approximately two full months, sometimes longer.
And at camp, technology is strictly off limits.
The transition tends to be trying at first, as most kids are angry at their families for sending them, worried they will be left behind socially, and reset, hard, from all of their vices, including their iPhones (and vapes, Juuls, computers, iPads, weed, alcohol, processed foods, and so on). After that period of adjustment, though, there tends to follow several weeks of profound healing and change. Imagine how liberating it must feel to truly be away from all the tech that clouds our minds. Kids tell me they are firmly set in the present moment, focused on the hike, or the river, or the sky, or their own breath. It’s a feeling most kids have likely never felt, and I suspect this condition will only worsen with each passing year. Honestly, I wish every kid could spare a couple of months out of their adolescence to be a part of a camp atmosphere like this. How cleansing for the body, mind, and spirit.
So, after the two months expire, kids return home. One boy told me about a moment, just hours after leaving his camp, in which he was in the front of a line at a McDonald’s in the airport nearby, heading home. He was looking at the menu when the kid behind the counter yelled at him, “Come on already! What do you want?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m just looking.”
Disgusted, the boy at the cash register yelled, “Next!”
“I just wasn’t thinking at that pace anymore,” my client told me. “And I didn’t want to.”
He had learned a lot about himself while away. And one of the first things he did was get rid of his smartphone, in favor of a retro flip phone. He knew he would want the ability to text his friends once he fully reintegrated into his life back home, but he also knew the smartphone was inherently toxic to his well-being, and he felt he was fully addicted to it before camp.
He is far happier now, and feels more emotionally in-balance than ever before. He never knew the type of peace of mind he experienced at camp was possible. It had never occurred to him, as he had never known a world without fairly constant access to a “soul-sucking” screen. A couple other clients of mine have followed suit, returning from a therapeutic wilderness camp and forgoing the smartphone, at least for a time. A couple of others, who have kept their phones, take breaks from social media, removing the apps from their phones in order to clear their minds. One girl in particular replaces Snapchat with Headspace, a simple and elegant meditation app, for a week or so every couple of months. She finds emotional self-regulation and balance that way.
My hope for our children is that we are quickly reaching critical mass, and a backlash is imminent. I suspect this generation will overtly begin to recognize the number their black mirrors are doing on their minds and their well-being, and seek wellness and balance instead. This is a thoughtful and intelligent group, this generation. They are better poised than any of us to make such a change.
In the meantime, I think we parents can do a couple of things to foster that change, and hasten it a bit. First, we of course need to better regulate our own screen time, including our time spent on social media. Modeling the behavior we want to encourage is the most effective method, and I think we are inherently aware of this reality. We can also take screen breaks as a family, and find some other activity to engage in collectively. And finally, I would strongly encourage you not to jump the gun in terms of providing your child with an iPhone or iPad. Wait a year or two. Allow them the space to breathe in the world with their eyes up, free of the overstimulation of the screen. I find that the more practice a client of mine has at this, the less likely they are to impulsively reach for their phone immediately as it buzzes, summoning their attention in the middle of a session.
Finally, I have worked with many parents who feel as if they no longer really know their teenager, this child they ushered into the world, who, up until just a few years ago, trusted them with almost everything, social, academic, or emotional. Now, they are upstairs behind a closed door, and they feel shut out of their world. I find, more and more, that the parents I learn are snooping in their child’s room, or on their various social media accounts, are not necessarily trying to “catch” their child in some misdeed. No, fundamentally, I have learned that an awful lot of parents miss their teenagers, and want to be part of their worlds again. Social media, even a “Finsta,” can be an interesting reintroduction to your child.
A Finsta (short for a fake Instagram account), for those of you who may be unfamiliar, is the second Instagram account your child may not tell you about, the one she shares with a select group of friends. That Finsta may prove more racy, salacious or, at times, inappropriate than what you are invited to see. Just know that, on any social media platform, your child may very well have more than one account, with split identities to keep track of. I find that this stuff gets very complicated when you really dig into it with teenagers. I feel for them that they sense a need to navigate it all, keep all those identity plates spinning every day, in order to just tread water socially.
A lot of the kids I work with invite me to follow them on some social media account or another. I find what I see there to be, on the whole, quite revealing: heartening, funny, sweet, and occasionally inappropriate, as teenagers are wont to be. But it’s so good to know them in this way, and sometimes talents and interests become apparent in a way that discussion does not always foster. I have discovered I am sitting across from a budding photographer, or a musician, or an artist, from clients’ social media. So, for parents, I encourage you not to fight the trend. It’s a very important part of the life of a child, understandably. And it’s a fight you will lose regardless. Instead, I encourage you to join in. Ask your child if you can follow her. You will feel closer to her. It’s pretty cool.
And remember, again, none of this is your child’s idea. As far as she is concerned, it has always been this way.
Defusing the Power of FOMO
FOMO, or the Fear of Missing Out, has become a far more impactful phenomenon in the age of social media, and the concomitant increase in social anxiety. I find that many parents find themselves inclined to reason their child through their FOMO: “You really couldn’t possibly be missing out on anything that important” or “Get your work done more efficiently, and you will have more time to spend with your friends.” I totally understand these tactics, and the fairly sound reasoning underlying them.
But FOMO tends to be a highly emotional and anxiety-inducing experience for a lot of kids, and reasoning through it does precious little to ease a teen’s anxiety. Instead, I would encourage you to think about your own experience of FOMO, as a teenager or, as so many of us experience, in the present day. Share your experiences with your child. Let them know you can relate to their feelings, and acknowledge the reality that they may well be missing out on something that might matter to them socially. This degree of understanding alone may ease some of their anxiety, just the knowing that someone “gets it.”
Then, I think it makes sense to work through the logistics with them: “You are probably going to miss out on something on occasion—we all do. But that’s okay. Most of us are trying to balance our work, other obligations, and social life. And, big picture, things tend to work out the way they need to.” Then, “How can we get you more involved socially?”
And please, if you feel you’re over your parental skis here, consult with a professional. The social anxiety affiliated with a persistent fear of missing out often requires therapy to rejuvenate a sense of self-worth, and perhaps some social skills training to get them connecting with peers. This really is that important.
With this exercise, you accomplish a couple of things: You let your child know you understand their FOMO, and that you have experienced that feeling yourself. You also get them involved in problem-solving their FOMO instead of feeling distracted, anxious, and upset about it.
In this age of social media overload, we need to step back and consider how our children spend their time, and the activities and outlets available to them to develop both a sense of self, and a sense of self-worth. We need to provide them with multiple avenues through which to do so, especially given the magnetic pull of social media. So, this is the area of parenting in which I most strongly encourage you to play the “parent card.” If your child seems disengaged outside of social media, or video games, or some other screen-based activities, press them to get involved. Fill the bulk of their time with school, sports, groups, plays, music, or clubs. Get them moving their bodies, something teenagers today do less and less.
Physical activity is something they desperately need.
My take on this has changed quite a bit. Years ago, I encouraged young people to think more. Now, so many kids spend far too much of their time lost in thought loops, many of them maladaptive and overly self-deprecating. Today, they need to spend far less time lost in thought, and more time doing. It is in the actual doing—the running, swimming, acting, singing, dancing, talking, and laughing—that a deeper sense of identity can be found, more tangible and true. It is in doing that our kids can prove to themselves that they are smart and capable and competent and resilient.
Perhaps the most critical component of doing, one that is missed by this entire generation, lies in moving one’s body. Due in large part to the draw of the various screens our children access, the natural inclination to move, run, swim, and sweat is derailed, often entirely. The result is a passive generation, running and jumping in video games, or momentarily playing for videos to post on one social media platform or another. As a result, we are raising ever more sedentary children, who are more obese than ever and holding more anxiety in their physical bodies. And I find that movement is the single most potent reliever of pent-up anxiety, period.
Young bodies want to move, to run and swim and dance and play. Too many kids decide they are not athletes, far too early in life to make that determination. Too many parents support that assertion, and fail to encourage movement. Here is a script worth changing.
Because, without some press from us, our kids are simply not presented with enough impetus to move. All their lives, there has been a screen that provided ample entertainment, and many kids have never gained an alternative, consistent point of view. It is our job as parents to present them with these options; thus the critical importance of the “parent card.”
I read recently about the decline in attendance at summer camps, both sleepaway camps and day camps. My experience with my client base over the years supports this trend. And for those of you with younger children, I strongly urge you to consider having your child attend a summer camp. Make it a part of the fabric of your family, an expectation. There are countless benefits to camps, as there have always been: introductions to new friends, sports, music, and other activities, to be sure. But today, the benefits are invaluable. Your child will spend a week or two or more, or several hours a day, engaged in other activities besides the phone. Over time, even kids who are quite reluctant to attend camps tend to rise to the occasion, and enjoy participating. I personally find that kids who attend camps tend to carry that balance with them long after camp is completed, spending more time outdoors, playing, laughing, making up games, and being fully engaged with friends.
Spending some time engaged in volunteer activity can also provide this balance. Once you play your “parent card” here, you will find, I predict, that your child’s volunteer participation becomes somewhat self-sustaining. Not only does it bring balance to be free of social media and other social pressures, as well as academic and perhaps familial stressors, but your child will also, in all likelihood, discover how much she enjoys being of service to others. Kids frequently describe to me how invaluable their time serving others can be to them, how important it is to see the faces of the people they are helping, and how grateful they become for their own life circumstances. Volunteer work pays countless dividends. Again, I encourage you to make service an automatic part of the family creed. It is tough to get your teenager out there if volunteering and service are not already a core part of the vernacular. It can be done with a “parent card,” of course, but if you have younger children, get them serving others early.
Self-Reflection, Self-Control, and Social Media
Research shows that we adults grossly underestimate the time we spend daily on social media, often by a factor of hours. I encourage you to track an average day, and honestly look at your track record. Do you spend an hour on social media? Two? More? The answer is yes for many of us. I find that once we are aware, truly and fully aware, of the amount of time we spend, and waste, on social media every single day, we are far more inclined to change the habit.
One of the best ways to reset your social media habit, as a family, is to pick a day—I find a Sunday works best—and fully fast from social media. All phones and computers and pads are off for twenty-four hours. You will hear grousing and complaining. You may even be the one complaining most. But when the fog clears, you will find yourself, your children, your entire family, are far more present in the moment with one another. This exercise will remind you, and perhaps teach your kids for the first time, that most of the good things in life take place away from the screens. A day off, heading into the city or out to the country on a family adventure, will punctuate that point nicely.
You may have to mandate this exercise to get it to actually happen, but it will be well worth it.
Many parents have told me they do not feel as if they have a “parent card” to play. They are certain their child would not sign up for a sport, play, or club, even if they insisted upon it. Their child will not listen and will not comply. And the pull of the screen feels far more potent than any parenting power we may have felt we could exert in the past.
This is where the Emotional Bank Account comes into play. This account is among my favorite methods for examining any relationship. If you read my first book, or if you have ever heard me speak publicly, you will find yourself quite familiar with this crucial concept which is a key to effective parenting.
The balance in the Emotional Bank Account, or EBA, is effectively an indication of the accumulated goodwill in any relationship. If things are running smoothly and your relationship feels resilient to any minor difficulties or bumps in the road you may encounter together, you are looking at an EBA that is solidly in the black. If, however, you feel disconnected and that communication is either one-way or trying, if either or both of you feel unheard or misunderstood, the EBA is likely in the red. This is a relationship that is in trouble and, in all likelihood, causes significant emotional distress, conflict, and a sense of disconnection for both parties.
The very good news here is that the EBA is flexible, pliable, and forgiving. The balance can be shifted with any deposit or withdrawal. Anything smacking of a disconnect will read as a withdrawal: an inopportune judgment, a lengthy lecture, or a misplaced punishment, for example. These may feel like good ideas, and perhaps even parenting mandates, in real time. But with the culture shifting so dramatically and rapidly, we need to be operating from a new parenting playbook, one in which we will frequently need to call real-time parenting audibles based on the needs of our child and our connection with our child. Today, we simply cannot afford unnecessary withdrawals from the EBA. A positive balance here trumps nearly every other factor in parenting.
Because if we are parenting from an EBA in the red, our voice is unheard, and our parenting is frustratingly ineffective. All of this can be quite frightening at times like these, when we know how critical our input is for the well-being of our children.
So, how then do we deposit into the EBA? How do we sustain a balance well in the black?
This is the good news, and perhaps the best, most enjoyable part of parenting. To increase the balance in the EBA, we simply connect. We table the lecture, and we play with our kids. We laugh with them. We create in-jokes with them. We dig in and learn all we can about their worlds: the music they listen to, the video games they play, the social media they favor, the teams they follow, their politics, and so on. And listen with them, play with them, cheer with them. Dig in without judgment, and with true curiosity, and you will find yourself well on your way to a smoother connection, an EBA in the black. But if you are hunting for trouble under the guise of connecting, if you are looking for clues as to how your child is performing in class, or whether she is hanging out with the wrong crowd or posting something inappropriate, your child will sense the disingenuous gesture. There will be a time for all of that if you sense that your child’s well-being, health, or safety is in jeopardy.
But to build the EBA—especially one in which the balance is already fractured—work on the connection. If you feel your child is a stranger to you, they feel the same. Rediscover your connection. It was there once, not that long ago. And from our parental perspective, we tend to disconnect from a place of fear—fear that if we do not bear down and control our child, he or she will wind up in peril.
But the logic here is faulty. It is precisely that connection itself, that positive balance in the EBA, that effectively inoculates our child from such peril. With so many elements of her life drawing down her sense of self-worth, your Unconditional Positive Regard will prove to be the godsend that will provide a crucial layer of protection from the dangers you fear for her. So, it is urgent that you see past your fear in order to recognize where the value in your relationship lies.
She does not need your lecture. She already knows how you feel. Just ask her. She does not need your judgment. She is highly self-aware, and likely over-judging herself. She does not need your ire or unkindness. Her world is harsh enough as it is. Rather, she needs your light. She needs to know that, despite anything she feels about herself, anything she may do incorrectly, and any poor choices she makes, you are there for her, 100 percent, unconditionally. Your relationship with her can be her port in the storm of adolescence. In my opinion, that’s the best parenting story you can possibly write.
An Emotional Bank Account Inventory
Both Daniel Goleman, the author of Emotional Intelligence, and Dr. John Gottman, a prominent expert on relationships, have discussed the ratio of positive to negative interactions necessary to maintain a good working relationship. Though they reflect primarily on intimate relationships, I find that their work applies equally well to the parent-child relationship.
And the ratio required to maintain and sustain a positive balance in the EBA is five to one, five positive interactions for every negative interaction. This finding shows us the powerful impact a single negative interaction can have on a relationship, and how much positive interaction is required to balance it out.
Consider for a moment your relationship with your child. For a day or two, keep track of the interactions you share, and create an honest accounting of net positive and net negative interactions. If you find (as most parents I have coached through this exercise have) that you are nowhere near that ratio, create more positive interactions with your child. Talk about interests, common or otherwise. Focus on something other than the homework she is supposed to be doing, or the dishwasher that needs emptying, or the attitude she’s been showing lately. Because this research is powerful and holds true. If you lack abundant positive interaction with your child, your influence in her life will be greatly diminished, increasing your frustration with parenting and driving a deeper wedge between you both emotionally.
This is among the most important exercises you can engage in as a parent.
Okay, this might sound harsh, but it’s important. To your child, your fear and judgment may look like disdain. She cannot bear the burden of your disdain.
Expectations, yes.
Disdain?
Well, that just may break her.
I bring the potential for parental disdain up for a reason. I see it, frequently. In therapy sessions, it is painfully clear and obvious when a parent is so baffled and upset by a child’s shifting behavior and affect that they express disdain. I find that, upon a moment’s inspection, that disdain is virtually always a reflection of fear and frustration on the part of the parent. Fear that we may be doing it all wrong, that we may not have any agency over our precious child. Frustration that they will not remain with the program, fall in line, and be better.
But this is a delicate issue, because what feels like fear and frustration to us falls like disdain on the senses of far too many of our children. And I can tell you, with an insider’s perspective, that most children carry a rather persistent thought that they may not be good enough on their own. Piling a sense that you hold disdain for them on top of that is often more than a child can bear. This produces many of the symptoms of anxiety, depression, and other emotional suffering I see in practice.
So please be very aware of showing disdain for your child. Now more than ever, it is critical to parse the difference between character and behavior. That is, your child may, and likely will, exhibit behavior of which you disapprove, and you can speak your mind on that.
But it is far more important that your child hears from you, and sees in the way you present to her, that she is fundamentally good, and good enough, regardless of what she may be doing in the moment.
So, at the very least, your children need your empathy. They need to know that you are available to them, free of fear and judgment and ego. They need to know that you see them and that you feel them. And in order to feel them, to truly experience empathy for your children, it is incumbent upon you to show that you understand them, that you are willing to step into their worlds.
This precept is one of those ideals that seem simple, but believe me, it can be very, very difficult. Because your child may very well be experiencing the very darkest of feelings and emotions, even if she offers a palatable and pleasant face to the rest of the world. I bear witness to this jarring paradox many times a week. Clinically, this mismatch between expressed and felt emotion can be a dangerous, even lethal emotional brew. For now, it is far more difficult to tell, on the face of things, whether your child is “okay” than it used to be. I have preached in the past that simply asking suffices and lets your child know you are available and in their corner.
But at eight, nine, ten, or eleven years old or older, we cannot expect our children to possess the insight to know whether they are “okay,” or even what “okay” looks and feels like. For the emotional dissonance they are experiencing may be the only state of being they have ever consciously known, and the “okay” label carries no more meaning than any other would.
So, we need to find empathy, with some degree of urgency. To do so, we need to be willing to hear the worst from our kids. And, in my experience, the darkest thoughts imaginable often haunt their young minds. For instance, in the past few years, I have heard the following from children as young as eight or nine:
“I hate the way I look.”
“I hate who I am.”
“I am a toxic person.”
“Everyone would be far better off without me.”
By far the most common negative sentiment I hear, on a very regular basis, goes something like this:
“I am not going to kill myself, but if I do not wake up tomorrow morning, that’s fine by me. In fact, that would be ideal.”
I had rarely heard this passive suicidality until about five years ago, but now it feels ubiquitous among young people. When I press them on it, I find that this is not a wish to die, but for internal suffering to end. It is critical to note that the management of their own internal anxieties and shifting emotions has become a primary task for children and is inextricably tied to identity development. This is a new challenge for our kids, one we need to be available to take on with them.
For children today hold themselves to impossibly high standards, the fallout being an almost inevitable feeling of not being good enough. For one, they consistently feel as if they must possess clarity of purpose, life purpose, sometimes before puberty even fully settles in. In their minds, they are failing and feel quite lost, if they fail to attain this. More on this as we move forward.
For now, please keep this parental mandate, this mandate free of disdain, fear, judgment, and ego, in mind as we begin to tackle the individual issues you will be facing as parents one by one.
I was talking with a brilliant fifteen-year-old girl, Katie, the other day about the changing nature of identity in her generation. She laughed when I asked her how she felt she and her peers defined “identity,” because it suggests we have only one.
“You must mean identities, Dr. Duffy!”
Katie used herself as an example in explaining what she meant. There was the identity she presented to friends. This comprised thoughtfulness, being fun and funny, and availability to help with any of their problems, among other things. She then talked about the identity she presented to her parents and family, one in which she was obedient and studious and upbeat and more interested in school than in social media and boys. She followed that up with her identity on social media, the über-popular, cute, clever, effortlessly awesome party girl with thousands of likes, literally.
Katie mentioned other identities she feels she needs to maintain as well. She has a different identity with boys than with girls. She feels she needs to act differently when in the company of different cliques, whether she feels she is a part of these groups or not. She needs to be pert and perfect with the popular kids, dark and pensive with her emo friends, and driven and strong on her soccer team. She carries different identities and presentations for teachers, coaches, and her boss.
Finally, Katie talked about who she really felt she was, deep down inside. She suggested this identity scared her the most, because it was real and not constructed. She had no control over the “real” Katie. She was dark and moody sometimes, and hated herself at times as well. She saw through her “bullshit” to the true and empty essence of all these phony, plastic identities she presented to the world.
To avoid the real Katie, as she called her, she would listen to music on Spotify, or watch reruns of The Office or Parks and Rec until she was too tired to stay awake, and the real Katie would leave her be.
I think Katie speaks for an awful lot of her peers when she describes this identity confusion, which she brilliantly labeled identity traffic. No wonder kids today feel less equipped to determine who they are and the roles they want to play in the world. With all this noise playing in their minds, all this identity traffic, it is not only difficult but, as Katie suggests, not always very desirable, to hear your own voice, your authentic self, from deep inside. For that voice may be calling you out as a fraud more than she is supportive and loving. She may be a brutal truth-teller. And hiding underneath other identities may appear more bearable.
As Katie suggested, teenagers today are therefore never truly free from anxiety. Time on your phone, and engaged in social media, is anxiety-provoking. And time away from your phone, at school, at parties, doing homework, or with your family, can all be anxiety-inducing as well. Kids today are never truly off the grid, free to hear themselves think. In their minds, they are rarely, if ever, truly free. Managing identity traffic is more than a full-time job.
So here lies another particular parenting challenge. What you think is on your child’s mind, or ought to be on her mind, is often on the back burner: the grades, the job, the ACT scores, the extracurricular activities. The prevailing fog in the forefront of her mind reverberates with the nagging question: who am I?
