The Inconvenience of Caring.

<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re way too sensitive for your own good.&rdquo;</p> <p>This phrase was muttered, moaned, or screamed at me on countless occasions during my childhood. As I aged, it spawned a mantra that grotesquely grew from within:</p> <p>&lsquo;Your feelings are not ok. Change them.&nbsp;<strong>Bury</strong>&nbsp;them.&rdquo; Understood.</p> <p>I&rsquo;ve always had an affinity with children. I adore seeing their natural instincts emerge through play and adventure and am amused by their mimicry of an adult world filtered by innocence.</p> <p>&ldquo;Darling, I am going to work now,&rdquo; cries a 4-year-old across the playground.</p> <p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t forget your phone; I&rsquo;m too too&nbsp;<strong>stressed</strong>&nbsp;to bring it today!&rdquo; calls back the buddy, obviously frantically busy with the feeding and care of their adopted squishmallow.</p> <p>I cannot bear to think of crushing a child&rsquo;s spirit by telling them that their feelings were abhorrent or abnormal. However, when I was growing up (in the olden days before computers and cell phones), it was very commonly encouraged to knock sensitivity out of children and &lsquo;toughen them up&rsquo; as if to prepare them for the battle of adulthood.</p> <p><em>Oh, you were doing them a favour, really,&nbsp;</em>was espoused effusively by nodding Mums in the playground social circle, cigarettes in hands.</p> <p><a href="https://medium.com/age-of-empathy/the-inconvenience-of-caring-9e8e3cd81eac"><strong>Read More</strong></a></p>