If you want to connect, build a bridge first.

Photo by Lori K Walters

I was talking with a recent acquaintance about his ‘grown and flown’ kids and he said that he talks with them every week. I asked what he thought contributed to that ongoing communication and he's said, “Well, we built a bridge when they were young. And then we learned, when they were teenagers, that we had to do regular maintenance just to keep the relationship going. Then, I guess it became a habit.”

Of course that got me thinking about bridges. The old single-lane bridge in my hometown, the impressive Ronda bridge in France that I have yet to visit, and some scary moments on a bridge in the Andes.

I remember it clearly, looking down into the rushing river below, my heart thumping, my ears filled with the roar of the current and my hiking boots inching across a bridge that consisted of some slippery, half-rotten planks and a couple of crooked logs.

We’d been given a tip about a great viewpoint. But the higher we climbed, the more I wondered how the heck we were going to come back down. A quick lark turned into a torturous adventure for 3 Canadian backpackers.

Anyhow…

Connection with our teens and young adults is like a bridge, too.

There’s a feeling, right? A sense of connection. The flow of words and emotions between parent and child. And we know what it feels like, too, when the flow has deteriorated.

In our hearts we know that the stronger the bridge, the better it will transport our intention and meaning. When you need to share things that are deeply important to you, things infused with emotion or that expose your vulnerability, the more likely it will be to bring you back the understanding you need.

Most of us put our hearts and souls into building that bridge when they were young. How we spoke to each other, the way we understood their needs and how they sensed our presence and reliability.

But when they became teenagers, we might have lapsed into the assumption that, since we’ve been building it for 15 or 20 years or more, it doesn’t need maintenance. 

Of course, that’s not true.

The need for bridge maintenance is as constant as the river flowing down the mountainside, as constant as your breath, and we must tend to it consistently. So that, when challenges arise, the bridge will carry the weight of big emotions, help words to flow with clarity, and hold up the relationship with grace and compassion.

Last year, I was coaching a mother whose daughter received her college acceptance letter and chose to go out with her friends. They had been having more and more misunderstandings and the bridge between them was shaky and rough.

The mom had been looking forward to celebrating with her. She felt hurt and resentful and retreated and gave her daughter the cold shoulder when she came home. When the daughter finally asked her what’s wrong, she came out on the attack. “You were so thoughtless. After all the years I’ve supported you… Your friends always…”

If the bridge were stronger (and it did strengthen in the months we worked together), she would have been able to express her feelings and needs in a way that her daughter would be more able to receive. The bridge would hold them as they worked to understand each other.

Seeing Both Sides

A good place to begin is to acknowledge the land on both sides of the bridge. “I understand that you want to share your good news with your friends. And I want you to have that fun with them. At the same time, I was disappointed about not getting the chance to tell you how thrilled I am for you. Can we spend some time together this evening celebrating this milestone?”

Those are two essential piers of the bridge: you offer compassion and take responsibility for your own needs.

Then, she doesn’t have to defend the choice she made or judge you as being unreasonable. You’ve given her a way to still connect with you and share her excitement, hopes and fears (as a part of her wanted to do from the start).

Asking

Before just marching across the bridge and diving into a particular topic, ask if they are ready and willing to talk about it. This honors both you and them, the two abutments at the ends of the bridge.

“I’d like to have a conversation about our laundry system. Would that be ok?”

It's like asking, "OK if I put this on the bridge?"

Oh, and even before you ask, make sure you’re not approaching it like a demand but are truly prepared to accept either a yes or a no. Let them know that it really is up to them. They’re going to appreciate your respect for their autonomy, though they might not express it, and be more likely to engage in negotiations, whether it’s now or later, to find a solution that works for both of you.

You’re in my Heart

Let your young adult know that, even as you’re both doing things on your own, you’re holding them in your heart, thinking of what they might need, considering the impact of your decisions upon them and still loving so many things about them.

If part of you is thinking that they already know it or they don’t want to hear it, how do these assumptions (yes, assumptions) leave the bridge to decay?

Everyone needs to hear and be shown that they are loved – even prickly teenagers. Whether it’s something as mundane as where the toothpaste is kept or something more meaningful, let your young adult know all the ways in which you appreciate them.

Now, I’ve heard many parents object to this because “it’ll feel fake and make them question my motives.” And I say, when something feels unnatural, what’s called for is practice.

A simple “Thanks for leaving the toothpaste in the tumbler” could become your normal daily conversation. They’re going to realize that you see their good intentions and contributions. “I like the way you did that” could be something that rolls off your tongue as easily as “please pass the pepper”. 

And that kind of normal is like solid planking on the bridge, there to convey your words and feelings to each other. There to support your understanding and acceptance of each other.

There to uphold your love.

Subscribe to Peace in My Parenting HERE.