"You never understand!" Why mothers and teenage daughters miss each other in conversation, and what you can do about it. 

How to listen to and validate your teenager using therapist backed tools from emotion focused validation.

Dr Hannah Ryan, Two Leaves Therapy

Note: all vignettes are completely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental. This article equally applies to teenagers of all genders.

Sarah pulls up to the curb where her daughter Maisie is standing, holding a biology book over her head to shield herself from the rain. She leans over and opens the door. 

"Well, how'd it go?!" 

"Terrible" 

"What?! You're joking?" 

"I got a B in English." 

"What? Maisieee. Come on, a B? That's fantastic!" 

Maisie looks at her sideways. 

"It's not fantastic. It's rubbish; it's shit. A B is absolutely crap. A B is, like, no published writers ever got a B in English, Mum." 

"Mais, you are the absolute best writer I know. You're incredible! And you got As in everything else!" 

"No I didn't! I got a C in Religion." 

"Well, Religion hardly matters." 

"That's not the point. You're not listening to me." 

"Of course I'm listening to you; you have my full attention! Come on, chin up, darling; you've worked so hard; you should be so proud of yourself. And these are only the mocks; you've got loads of time left. It's important to keep things in perspective in life". 

"Keep things in perspective? What, like, because of starving kids in Africa? Yeah, I know this isn't, like, the biggest problem in the world, I get it. Thanks for making me feel like a total drama queen". 

"I didn't call you a drama queen, Maisie, don't put words in my mouth. Why do you have to be so hard on me? Come on, I've had a long day too; I'm only trying to help".  

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. You never understand". 

***

You never understand. If you’ve ever been told this, or if you relate to Sarah's story, you're not alone and, like Sarah, you're not a bad parent. But the story does beg the question: why do parents and teenagers often miss each other in emotional conversations? Is Sarah just a bad communicator? Does she lack empathy? Is she a crap parent? Is her daughter just “a brat”? None of these are the right answer. The reality is that parents often struggle to connect in these moments because they are struggling to sit with their kids’ distress. This tends to happen for three key reasons- and none of them has anything to do with caring too little. In fact, one of them might have something to do with caring, if anything, a little too much. 

Why parents jump in to rescue their teenagers from distress. 

(1) You care so much that their pain feels unbearable, and you want it to end now. 

Sarah loves her daughter. She genuinely believes she is a fantastic writer; she wants her to be happy, and she wishes she could inject the belief she feels for Maisie into her brain. Just like when she was a baby who screamed because she had a sore tummy, Sarah's maternal instinct is to be the person to rush in with shushing noises and calpol and make it all better. She wants to take the pain away. She wants to paper over her self-doubt and despair with a plaster of self-belief and positivity. Seeing her daughter upset is uncomfortable, and she wants it to stop. If asked, Sarah would probably say, "I don't care what my kids achieve academically, as long as they're happy". 

But, noble as this is, it's a lot of pressure. Because adolescents, like all humans, do not experience happiness all the time. In fact, they may be predisposed to experience it even less steadily than throughout the rest of their lives. What Maisie needs in this moment is for her mum to be comfortable sitting with Maisie's difficult feelings and to stay present with them rather than ushering them away. The fact that her mum is struggling with this is completely understandable, as the following two reasons will reveal. 

(2) You may have unconscious triggers that you are not aware of.

When she was Maisie's age, Sarah's father had been dead for two years. As the eldest girl, she became a Little Mother. Times were different, and no one questioned this. She helped cook, clean, and drop her younger brothers to and from school. If she felt resentment about this, she didn't become aware of it until years later, when it was too late to ask for anything different. It didn't occur to anyone to think about Sarah's education. No one hovered over her homework, told her she was clever, or exclaimed, "well done!" when she tried her best. People assumed she'd marry a banker and become a housewife. Never mind that she, like Maisie, had been a voracious reader. She ended up underachieving in her exams and carried the shameful suspicion that she was stupid for the rest of her life. 

So when her daughter berated herself for getting a B, which was more than Sarah had ever achieved in English, Sarah not only felt admiration, she also felt a little resentful. And underneath the resentment was an adolescent Sarah who felt sad for herself and envious of Maisie's freedoms. She felt envious of the freedom Maisie had to luxuriate in silence, to study unburdened by responsibility, to be encouraged and nurtured, and even to go to a fee-paying school. Most of all, she felt envious of her daughter's freedom to dream big and be supported every step of the way. So, yes, an adult part of her wanted to cheer her daughter and encourage her and delight in her bright, brilliant girl, and at the same time, a child part of her secretly whispered, "Doesn't she know how lucky she is?"

This whisper got in the way of Sarah feeling genuine compassion for Maisie's predicament, and Maisie could sense this even if Sarah couldn't. 

If you want to explore your unconscious parenting triggers, check out Philippa Perry's book The Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read. 

(3) Your tools are not wrong, they’re just not quite right for the job.

Sarah was raised in a generation of "keep calm and carry on" and "pull yourself up by your bootstraps". She doesn't have the sophisticated therapy language that seems to come so easily to Maisie, and for some reason she seems to keep reaching into her vocabulary bag and pulling out the wrong words. When she was growing up, she longed for her mother to give her praise and compliments, but when she tries to cheer Maisie by telling her she's smart when she feels stupid or pretty when she feels unattractive, this seems to go horribly wrong, and she can't quite understand why. The cheering advice that might help her friends doesn't land the same way with her teenager.

Like a woman speaking Dutch in Paris, her daughter is fluent, while Sarah only has schoolgirl French.

Modern tools for modern teenagers: how you can respond differently.

I could give you a script for exactly what to say the next time your Maisie comes home with a disappointing grade or a disappointing boyfriend. And I will. But know that there are limits to scripts. In therapy, you can explore what your child is triggering in you, reflect on your relationship from multiple perspectives and practice dialoguing in a new way. 

But if you want to shortcut through all of that, here's what to do. 

(1) Know your (new) job description: from The Fixer to The Listener.

When she was a child, your role was to be The Fixer. Stomach pain? You've got ibuprofen for that. Hungry? You've got snacks for that. You are used to a linear structure to problems. Problem plus mum's solution equals resolution. Once you reach adolescence, though, your job role changes- only nobody sends you a letter in the post. Now, your role is to become The Listener. Your child wants the autonomy to solve their own problems, and they simply want space to feel their feelings. Listen wrong, and you will be fired or put on probation without warning. Because, sometimes, there is no solution; there is only time and, occasionally, a well-timed cup of tea.  

(2) Give her permission to feel all her feelings. 

Stay present for a while. I know it's hard, but think of her disappointment like a rain cloud. It's not pleasant, but it will pass in its own time; there is nothing we can do to rush it forward towards a sunny day. Feelings want to be heard and felt. You don’t need wise advice or clever solutions, you “just” need to stay present and be genuinely sympathetic. I say “just” because it sounds simple, but it’s really, really hard.

And if you want to read my article on when our efforts at advice, cheering up and staying positive become unhelpful, click here.

(3) Validate using the “three becauses”.

Okay, so here is the magic tool. Because helpfully for you, a therapist thought up a 'paint by numbers' way to validate that is proven to help adolescents feel heard. The technique is from Emotion Focused Family Therapy and it's called the "three becauses". Are you listening closely? 

Step 1: You say "It's understandable that you're feeling x" or "It makes complete sense that you'd be feeling y" 

Step 2: Say the word “because” and insert reason number 1. What's one reason they feel this way? 

Step 3: Say the word “because” and insert reason number 2. What's another reason they feel this way? 

Step 4: Say the word “because” and insert reason number 3. What's a third reason they feel this way? 

It may feel unnatural, but it works. You're unlikely to hear, "Thanks, Mum, you're the best; you always understand me! Love ya!" But you might have a quiet sense of connectedness that is almost as satisfying. Many parents I work with say it also works on their colleagues, partners, and siblings, so knock yourself out having fun with your new bag of tricks...but my word of warning is that it takes practice, and like learning French, it will only come if you work at it. 

So, let's reimagine the conversation between Sarah and Maisie with our new emotional vocab.

Sarah pulls up to the curb where her daughter Maisie is standing, holding a biology book over her head to shield herself from the rain. She leans over and opens the door. 

"Well, how'd it go?!" 

"Terrible" 

"Oh no, I'm so sorry to hear that. What happened?" 

"I got a B in English." 

"Oh, Maisie, that must be so disappointing." 

"It really is. Well, more angering. I can't believe it. I know that probably sounds big headed but I actually worked so hard, and I feel like she was really unfair with her marking. Like, I don't know what more I could have done." 

"I don't think that's big headed at all. It's completely understandable that you would feel angry, because I've seen you work day and night on this, and because English is a special subject to you and because I know this was the last one you were waiting to hear back on and you were really hoping for a good result." 

"I know. It really sucks. I mean, obviously I know it's not the end of the world but I'm just really pissed off [tearing up and starting to cry] sorry, I’m just really upset. I worked really hard”.

"I know you did, love. That makes a lot of sense. I don't blame you for being upset with how hard you worked and how much this meant to you." 

"I know, and Holly got an A and sorry to be bitter but she barely even did anything. She was off doing the play for the last month.”

"That’s really hard. Do you want to stop on the way home and get some cake?" 

"No thanks. I think I just want to crawl into bed and have a cry."

"Sounds about right. I'll bring you up a cup of tea and send Percy up to lick your wounds." 

"Okay".  

***

Easier said than done- but, then, fiction is always easier than real life…

Parenting teenagers is hard, and parenting teenagers in the 21st century, in the age of social media and competitive schooling, after a pandemic, is a special kind of hard. If you would like support with strengthening your parent-child bond, feel free to explore my therapeutic services page. 

And for a book on how to do Emotion Focused Validation like a pro, check out What to Say to Kids When Nothing Seems to Work.

Happy validating. :)

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Reparenting Yourself Whilst Parenting Teenagers: The Simple Magic of Biting Your Tongue. 

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Men do cry: masculinity, mental health & the gendered politics of emotional expression.