child girief

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. – C.S. Lewis

As I was looking for an image for this week’s blog post, this one “spoke” to me, and I knew it was the one to drive the message home. You see, grief isn’t just in the run-down parts of town or a part of the child with the torn and tattered clothing. A grieving child could be sitting alone, watching other kids play from afar as they sit alone, feeling excluded.

Grief can look like the child with the “cool” clothes, the beautiful home, and on the “right” side of the tracks. How you see this little girl in the image, surrounded by shambles, could be exactly how she feels on the inside while living, presumably, her “best” life.

Adults often fail to see the sadness behind a child’s eyes. Or, if they do, they turn away from it because they’re uncomfortable and don’t know what to say or what to do about it. Today, this post is for you. And, I’m going to draw out today’s message from my own life.

I grew up in a lower-class home. My dad worked at a cement plant, and mom worked as a dietary aid in a nursing home. Although we lived in a new house, it didn’t look like any of my friend’s homes. We had an unfinished basement, small bedrooms (one of which I shared with my older sister), and little furniture and furnishings. We had just enough of what we needed, no extra, and definitely no excess of anything. However, we had many happy times and memories. It didn’t matter to me that so and so had a bigger house (with air conditioning), newer cars, their own rooms, new clothes, or anything else I did not. But, I recognized it. Growing up, getting my ears pierced, a new dress, and often, a home-cooked meal, were a treat. And, when I got older, I realized how “cheaply” that new home had been built, with its drafty windows, cheap siding, and weak foundation.

Then, death (and trauma) walked into my life. And everything changed. My sense of security, safety, and trust was gone. These are all of the components that make a house a home. And I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t feel secure. And, my ability to trust people would create such a divide in my life between sadness and joy, that it would take me another 30+ years to repair.

All the while, I was the quiet one – unless I was crying. I became a people-pleaser. And, I learned that crying in front of others makes them uncomfortable or angry, so it’s best to cry alone. And, I did – a lot. I’d hide in the kitchen cupboard to cry. I’d fall asleep crying under my bed. I’d squeeze into the linen closet to be alone to cry. I was such a sad child, and I had no way to express it – to anyone. Nobody knew what to do with me. I was a misunderstood problem. I felt like this little girl, in the photo, feeling like I might as well had been in a house of shambles. The world around me felt like this.

My saving grace was my sister, one reliable friend, and that same friends’ mom – who always welcomed me into her home as if I was one of her own. In their home, I felt safe. And, in their home, I ate with a family.

Economic status, social class, and appearances can all be deceiving.

Grief does not always stick out like a sore thumb. In fact, it’s in the “underbelly” of nearly every home across America (and the world). It does not show up as one particular, specific way either.

If we were to look at each other as the grievers we all are, there would be a lot more compassion to go around in this world. If we were to look at the “problem child” as a griever, it would change how you interact with them, don’t you think? Anger is a mask for grief. Many children are wearing it, too—I happened to wear mine well into my 30’s. I was an angry teen, and I had every right to be angry. And shocker, angry children become angry adults. There was so much change in my life, in a short time, and I did not have a way to express what I was experiencing safely. I know, without a doubt in my mind, many other children grow up this way, too. The adults in our lives don’t know what to do, what to say, or how to offer support.

We venture into adulthood with the wounds of the past. These wounds trickle into every aspect of our lives.  – Victoria V.

As an adult, do you…

have a hard time trusting people? Perhaps you were sexually abused as a child; your mom/dad abandoned you, or you grew up in the foster care system?

have a difficult time making decisions? Were you allowed to make your own choices growing up, or did everything you say or do aim to please others and keep others happy/keep the peace?

find yourself bouncing from one relationship to the next? Did you grow up with an example of how healthy relationships should look? Were you abused by an adult male as a child/teen/young adult or grow up without a dad? Or, if you’re male, did someone other than your biological mother raise you?

feel stuck in your life, know you’re not living to your full potential, and feel like life is on auto-pilot? What happened to you? What are the losses (related or unrelated to death) you’ve experienced throughout your life?

Recognizing grief in our children is prevention. Once grieving children become adults, there’s no way to know how grief will impact their lives. This blog post today is my plea to you to open your eyes and your mind that grief is society’s pandemic – always has been and forever will be. Unless we educate ourselves, and the adult caregivers/caretakers work on repairing their hurts.

Grief makes us feel like we don’t have choices in our lives. And we do. It took me so very long to learn this. So long, that I have grief around that knowledge. However, doing this work and making grief education my priority is how I’m channeling the emotional energy I have around that fact. Not to mention, utilizing the tools I’ve learned to process all that I cannot change in the past. So, today – I can live fully and wholeheartedly – unleashed.

How to Help a Grieving Child You Know

  • Go first. For a child to trust you and to feel comfortable opening up, you must share first. And, you must tell the emotional truth about yourself, too. Do not give promises you cannot keep, give replies that you don’t know as fact, and dismiss the fear the child shares.
  • Validate. Validate. Validate. By not criticizing, analyzing, or judging what the child shares, you are validating the feelings they share. When you do criticize, analyze, or judge, you’re sending the message that what they’re feeling is wrong, incorrect, or unimportant.
  • Think before you speak. Before you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, you won’t know how to answer, take some time to think, in advance, about the questions that may come up. When thinking about the situation the child is in (if you know), consider the questions, in advance, that may be asked, and how you would answer those questions. For example, going back to school, your child may be concerned their teacher will contract Covid-19 and die. So, they ask you if their teacher is going to get sick and die. How will you answer that? Likewise, they may be concerned they’ll bring Covid-19 home and give it to you, their parent/caretaker, and ask if you’re going to get sick and die? And all of the other questions that will come along with that scenario. And there are many. Whether you are a teacher, parent, foster parent, caregiver, babysitter, aunt, grandma/grandpa, etc., think about what is going on in the life of the child and get everyone that child interacts with, on the same page with how to reply to Covid-19 (or whatever the situation is). But, don’t forget about telling the emotional truth.
  • Listen with your heart. Often, the things that make children fearful or sad don’t make much sense to the adult brain. And, the feelings of the child don’t have to make sense to you. Step out of your head and into your heart when communicating with a child (whether they’re 4, 12, or 18). Instead, ask questions to understand rather than to respond. Try to figure out what the root of the fear, sadness, or anger is. Sometimes, it’s about the least obvious thing.
  • Help the child find choices. Grief robs us of the feeling of having choices. I felt, for many years, that my life was going to be one filled with sadness for the rest of my life. I didn’t feel empowered, I definitely didn’t feel supported, and this led to me struggling well into adulthood. In the scenario of Covid-19 (and potential of getting sick), where a concerned child questions you (the parent), you could share how you’re doing all the right things to prevent that. You don’t know how it will affect you, but thank them for loving you and being concerned and tell them you love them, too—expressing that you take care of yourself so you can take care of them – then demonstrating that if that’s what you share. Honestly, my kids are the reason I give two craps about exercising or taking care of myself. Few people actually love exercising. However, if our motivation isn’t relying on the scale, pants-size, and instead, is given a more significant meaning in our lives (like staying alive long enough to see your kids have kids), then nothing else will motivate us. I don’t want my kids to grow up without a mother, so I get my yearly skin checks. I get my 5-year colonoscopy, and I do my best to maintain a healthy weight. It’s not for me – it’s for them. Because when you know what it’s like to grow up without a parent, your perspective on life and parenting changes. And, my kids were also why I sought something to help me emotionally be a better parent for them, too. I want them to grow up knowing that no matter what life throws at them, they always, always, have choices.
  • The obvious, participate in the in-person (once restrictions are lifted) or online four-week group program, Helping Children with Loss.

What do you think? Does this blog post resonate with you? Share your thoughts in the comments below or message me!

Do you have a grieving child under your roof and struggle to help them? Right now, I am preparing for the launch of the Helping Children with Loss online group program. I am looking for eight participants to be the first to experience this fantastic 4-week program with me at a discounted rate. I want to make sure all of the online kinks are worked out, gain some comfort with delivering the material and start sharing this program at the end of this month. We meet weekly, once a week, for four weeks and typically on a weekday evening. However, I am open to a Sunday evening, too, as I realize schedules can be crazy with school starting soon.

If you’re interested, email me at [email protected] or use the contact form and put “HCWL program inquiry” in the subject line. Eight slots are the max! Parents can take the program together; however, each parent will pay the reduced rate. Email or message for more details. And, share this with someone you know. Again, the Helping Children with Loss Program is PREVENTION. In our current times, there is plenty of grief going around. If you are a parent, teacher, administrator, foster parent, foster program, lead a head start program, etc., I hope you thoughtfully consider this program. I am looking to share this with those programs I aforementioned, where an entire staff of eight could become educated on this topic and utilize this for CEU’s.

much love, victoria

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