Comforting Our Anxious Parts

As summer winds down, friends I bump into invariably look down at my children and say, “Oh! School’s about to start. Aren’t you excited?” My son buries his face in my leg while looking quizzically at the speaker, as if something completely ludicrous had just been uttered.

And the truth is: It had. The question gets things wrong in so many ways. First, my son is not primarily feeling excited. He’s feeling scared. Maybe you have one of those children, too. A worrier. It’s estimated that 13% of children experience some sort of anxiety disorder during ages 9 to 17. So when well-meaning adults assume my son he ought to be feeling excited, I cringe.

But I don’t just cringe at the incorrect read of his feelings. I cringe because I hear in the statement a common misunderstanding about us human beings and our emotions.

When we say to children (or adults) “Aren’t you excited (or happy, or sad, or anxious),” we’re speaking as if we are our emotions. We’re not. Our emotions are a part of us. And even when we’re feeling something quite strongly--for instance, fear--only a part of us is experiencing that emotion. Other parts of us are feeling other things--say hot, tired, energized or even excited. We all know that we often have conflicted emotions, which is how we end up with internal debates like “A part of me really wants to eat that ice cream sundae but a part of me knows I shouldn’t.” Or, “a part of me is sad summer is over, and a part of me can’t wait for the kids to get back into school.”

As Walt Whitman said, “I am large, I contain multitudes.”

This multitude of parts within us--referred to in psychology as a multiplicity of personality--is totally normal. And helpful. Because once you realize that only a part of you feels something, it’s much easier to deal with it. When only a part of you is feeling anxious, then it’s less overwhelming. You’re not being limited by a label. Plus, by acknowledging that only a part of you feels one way, you’re also acknowledging that other parts are feeling other things. In fact, you always have available within you a calm, confident Self that can comfort the other parts.

These insights are developed in a therapeutic model created by Dr. Richard Schwartz called IFS Thearpy. You can use aspects of his approach to help your child get to know and comfort her anxious parts.

Start by introducing “parts” language to your child. So, if she says, “I’m scared about school” you can simply echo back, “A part of you is anxious about school.” Then tell her that her anxious part probably needs a little attention. Ask her to close her eyes and see if she can picture that part of herself. She might picture where in her body her “anxious part” lives (maybe in her stomach, or her head). Ask her to get to know her anxious part. What is it afraid of? What would make it feel better? Tell her that she can give her anxious part the comfort it needs.

My son was having nightmares. He would awake screaming and come running to our room. I suggested to him that only a part of him was afraid at night and asked if he wanted to get to know that part. He said okay. He closed his eyes and found the part (in his chest). The part was scared that someone was going to steal him away in the night. I suggested he give the part a big hug and reassure it that he wouldn’t let the part be taken away.

It may sound crazy, but my five-year-old sat there, eyes closed, reassuring himself. He opened his eyes and said, “My scared part says it’s still scared. But it liked the hug.”

“Do you think you could reassure it again?” I asked.

He nodded. Although the fear of the dark hasn’t totally gone away, he learned that day that he had scared parts and brave parts, parts in need of comfort and parts that could comfort. And each time he gives himself a hug, he feels a little better.

As the start of school approaches, we’re once again seeing lots of visits from anxious parts. But he knows he can talk to his parts and find out what they need. And even when he’s on his own, he’s got a strong Self ready to give a hug.