How to Hold Space for a Complaining Teenager

In my last article, we considered what’s really happening when our almost-adult kids complain: what’s happening in them and what’s happening in us. I received a couple of comments and questions that I want to address.

From Layne:

This was really helpful, Lori. I could see myself 100% giving lectures on how they should show more respect and be grateful. My parents did it to me and my brother all the time and I don’t want to be like that. But I only realize I’ve done it after the fact, either right after the words have come out of my mouth or when I finally lay down for the night… I wish I could see it coming before I do it. 

Dear Layne,

Knowing that there's an unhealthy pattern is a huge step so, first, let’s appreciate the attention and intention you’ve given to come this far.

The next step is self-observation. Because you can’t change a habit without seeing it clearly, even when it’s unpleasant, embarrassing or uncomfortable. Recognizing the head-heart-body sequence of your habit is the key to being able to interrupt it

So, instead of trying to prevent your reaction, let it happen (I know this sounds counterintuitive, but trust me) and be a super-observant spectator.

Observe what happens in your body. It’s going to give you a clue that you’re about to slide into the old lecturing pattern. What are the signals - a furrowed brow, raised shoulders, clearing your throat, a sudden headache, shallow breathing or something else? And once you notice the spot where it begins, how can you invite a little expansion into that area e.g. more air into your chest, more ease into your eyes, or a bit of softness into your lower back?

Observe what happens in your heart. Do you feel indignant, disgusted, insulted, annoyed, helpless, let down, inadequate, embarrassed, outraged, etc.?  Identify what emotion arises and allow it to exist. Instead of trapping it inside you, give it the 17 seconds it needs to flow through you. In the front door, out the back door.

Observe what happens in your mind. Listen to the inner dialogue that kicks into motion and question it. Do you have to stop your teenager from complaining right now? Do you have to lecture, argue, control, tease, correct, shame, collude, smooth over or forbid?  What’s the old thought loop? What’s the new one you’re starting to cultivate?

Changing how you tolerate and respond to your teenager’s complaints isn’t about changing their opinion or how they express them – it's about changing how you experience them.  

From D.S.:

I realize that I try to smooth everything over as quickly as possible instead of really listening. But when I focus on what she’s saying, I don’t know what to say without sounding awkward or fake. Then I just want the conversation to be over as quickly as possible. 

Dear D.S.:

One way to work on this is to imagine that you’re in your daughter's world, in her body, in her hoodie, in the situation she’s describing. Imagine how her eyes see it and how her heart feels it and simply acknowledge that you get it. “Geez, that’s tough… The way you describe it, I'd probably feel that way too… Yeah, that’s a hard topic… It makes sense to me that you’re feeling __ .”

If you want to speak authentically, resist the urge to make stuff up to sound a certain way or steer her in a certain direction. Just be you and be honest. Because young adults have excellent radar for adults who are listening with an agenda to correct or criticize them. And nothing undermines a young adult’s trust like a parent who’s not genuine.

When we meet them in their frustration and concern, without trying to fix anything, change their feelings or make them see it differently, a beautiful thing happens: they feel safer to tell us about their struggles and how they’re navigating them. It’s the same for all of us: when we feel acceptance, then we trust and open up.

You don’t have to make a long speech either, just a simple expression that conveys your acceptance. When she hears that you understand her struggles, even if they're different from when you were young, and even if you don’t think you’d react in the same way, she’ll feel supported by something solid and reliable and reassured that she’s not alone. Those are the feelings that are conducive for connected communication and cultivating a deeper relationship.

As I wrote last week, complaints are an invitation to connect. You accept the invitation by listening, not to get or achieve anything, just to understand her and be with her. 

From Marie:

I’m definitely triggered by my son’s complaining… I agree that he deserves to be heard and that his opinions and emotions should be respected, but how do I say the right thing and hold space for something that makes me so stressed? 

Dear Marie,

Holding space for your son’s self-expression is more about energy than words.

It begins with soothing/ loosening/ expanding the places in your body that feel rigid and resistant. For me, this means breathing deeply into my belly because I tend to clench it and hold my breath. For you, it might be rolling your shoulders back, wiggling your spine or unclenching your jaw.

Learning how to return to your calmness isn’t an easy thing to do, especially in the throes of parenting young adults; it takes time and practice to discover what you can do to soothe and rebalance your unique system when it's agitated. This is such valuable parenting work because the calmer and more present you are in your body, the more held and heard your teenager’s heart will feel.

When my belly softens, I connect with my inner core, the column of light from my sit bones to my crown, the central truth of who I am, my deep peace, myself as a channel between sky and earth, my knowing and my spiritual essence. It’s from this core that I hold space for others.

A wave flows outward into the space between us and around us, and it fills with a different energy. Sometimes it feels like I’m holding a shimmering, wide, shallow basket that we can both sit in. My kids have come to know that it can hold their heart while they do their grumbling, crying, wondering or yelling. And when their big emotions and opinions prod my heart and rattle my nerves, I lean into this container too, and I am held.

We all have our own ways of doing this, Marie. When you think of holding space for him, what images arise? What do you connect with to hold space for who he is? What are the qualities of that space? What becomes possible in that space?

In my experience (which is only one of millions), the basket, the sacred space, is woven by my love, my spirit guides and the big universal love. It says to my kids, “This is home base.”