Oftentimes kids ask me whether they are alone in their experiences. Desperate in their search for commonality, they eagerly approach me with questions like,
“Erica, do you see other kids whose parents fight?”
“Do other kids feel worried like me?”
“Do you know anyone with a mommy that is sick like mine?”
“Erica, do other kids get angry like me?”
“Do you see other kids whose parents are divorced?”
“Do you see other kids whose grandmother died?”
In an attempt to eradicate any uncertainty they may possess, the quality of my response is unwavering. These questions are always met with an emphatic “yes!” I might joke rather incredulously, “Are you serious right now? Of course! All the time!” Their faces often betray expressions of both surprise and profound relief.
Starved for more information, some beg me to disclose specific details of the other children’s personal stories. I am confronted with questions like, “Do they go to my school?,” “Where do they live?” or even, “What is their name?” Occasionally I am faced with the ever so difficult question: “Do they have a situation worse than mine?” Confidential information is replaced with general themes of common experience. Themes of loss, vulnerability, inadequacy, and discord abound. I uncover certain universal truths, including the fact that we all suffer.
This has led to my recent reflections on the concept of “common humanity,” an idea that is central to the research and work of self-compassion experts, Dr. Kristin Neff and Dr. Christopher Germer. Common humanity is just one component in the three-part model of self-compassion. The other two components include self-kindness and mindfulness. In my work with children, I define self-kindness as speaking to oneself as if you were speaking to a dear friend. When faced with challenges, I tell children that they have a choice: they can choose to listen to their inner critic or they can choose to listen to their inner, compassionate friend. Helping children and adolescents cultivate self-kindness is central to my work, whether they have ADHD, disruptive behavior, anxiety, or depression.
The second component of self-compassion according to Dr. Neff, is mindfulness. In the traditional sense of the word, mindfulness involves conscious awareness and acceptance of the totality of the present moment. It is where one is neither a prisoner to one’s past, nor ensnared by future worries. When being mindfully self-compassionate, one approaches negative thoughts and feelings with gentle curiosity instead of resistance or rejection. Whether they are positive or negative, our thoughts and feelings come and go, and we no longer have to be attached or identified with them. Equipped with this knowledge, children are empowered and are better able to self-regulate.
The third piece in the self-compassion puzzle, common humanity, re-surfaces in my sessions with children now more than ever before. Simply put, common humanity is the recognition that we all suffer. As a herd species, humans have an innate desire to seek connection. Relational bonds are woven in the fabric of our very existence. In my work with children, I frequently witness an eager desperation to get in touch with that deeper sense of connection. It is not just face-to-face connection that they crave. They also seek connection through knowledge and awareness. Knowledge that they are not alone, especially when they are having a hard time. In the pediatric therapy office, bids for connection are readily apparent. Enchanted by the idea that difficulties are part of the shared human experience, children want to know, “Are there others like me?”
Sometimes breakthroughs arise from simple and readily apparent life lessons like, self-compassion and common humanity. In certain ways, I am in a position of privilege compared to parents because the children I see know that I see other children. But it is not enough for children and teens to learn about common humanity in the therapist’s office. Life lessons like these become more accessible to children’s memory when they are repeated across multiple contexts and by important people in the child’s life. Parents can do this by reminding their children that they are not alone and by sharing their own personal experiences in a child-friendly way. Parents often feel compelled to “fix” or intervene when a child is upset. But sometimes children just need someone to listen to them, someone to validate that “this is hard,” and remind them that they are not alone. Knowing that they are not alone provides an enormous sense of relief and envelopes them in love.