The Inconvenience of Caring.
<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>‘Your feelings are not ok. Change them. <strong>Bury</strong> them.” Understood.</p>
<p>I’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>“Darling, I am going to work now,” cries a 4-year-old across the playground.</p>
<p>“Don’t forget your phone; I’m too too <strong>stressed</strong> to bring it today!” 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’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 ‘toughen them up’ as if to prepare them for the battle of adulthood.</p>
<p><em>Oh, you were doing them a favour, really, </em>was espoused effusively by nodding Mums in the playground social circle, cigarettes in hands.</p>
<p>However, for truly empathetic children, taking on board the feelings of those around them is as natural as breathing. To me, being yelled at for my tears or protestations was akin to insisting that the fibres of my being were defective. My Tigger persona lost its desire to bounce, weighed down by adult constraints.</p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/age-of-empathy/the-inconvenience-of-caring-9e8e3cd81eac">Read More</a></p>