Holding Space

Learning how to hold space is tough. I've had a lot of experience learning how hard it is, but having kids might be my best teacher for this lesson. We bought a house this summer and are now living in a single story. We have loved and hated different parts of this new house but being on one floor has been mostly a positive.

Having such easy access to her room, Amina has started to take time by herself in her room. This could happen after she argues with her little brother, or when Kristina leaves for work, or like yesterday, it could happen because I didn't park where she would be on the side of the house.

After realizing she was really upset, I went to get her out of the car and tried holding her and started to carry her inside. My intention was to talk with her about what she was feeling. With tears running down her face she started kicking and screaming. I finally let her down and she rushed to the front door, unlocked it, and slammed it.

Once I got inside with Miles, I realized she had pulled things into the walking path that headed towards her room. She had closed her door and as I got closer she heard me coming and promptly forced herself against the door to block my entrance. In that moment I wasn't really mad or sad. I really just wanted her to know she didn't have to be alone. I decided to push the door open and try again to talk with her. She immediately began screaming to get out and told me she wanted to be alone. She pushed as hard as she could against me and the door. I finally snapped and screamed back.

I don't regret anything I said. I feel like I was still mostly in a grounded space. The volume of my voice increased just so I could be heard over her screams. But I know how kids usually work, and I know how the brain usually works, and screaming typically doesn't induce better listening or communication. I finally gave in, backed out and let the bedroom door be slammed again.

I checked on Miles and took a moment away from the door and eventually went back. As I got closer I heard Amina slam her body back against the door in an effort to keep me out. This time I took a different approach. I slid down against the wall until I was seated right outside the door. I calmly spoke and made sure Amina could hear me. I told her I wasn't coming in, but I would sit right outside until she needed me. I sat and I listened to her cry and talk to herself. I sat and listened to her process whatever she was feeling on her own. Eventually Miles even came and sat next to me for a few minutes.

The crying on the other side of the door stopped and then Amina's tiny fingers slide under the door towards me. I reached out and we held hands. There were no words, just touch. I told Amina I would wait and hold her hand until she was ready to be open the door and occasionally I would ask if she was ready.

It was a painful wait for me. I desperately wanted to hold her and talk with her. I wanted her to know she didn't have to be alone. I wanted her to know whatever she was feeling, that I could handle it. I just wanted to be with her. But those were all my desires and needs.

Finally, Amina pulled her hand away and the door slowly opened. She came and sat in my lap and wrapped her arms around me. I got to share the things I wanted her to know. She never has to be alone. Her feelings will never be too much. Nothing she feels will be dismissed or shut down. And no matter what she feels or what she does, she will be loved my Kristina and I.

More importantly, I got to apologize for raising my voice. I told her that even though I was wanting for her to hear me it wasn't okay for me to scream. A mentor once said he stopped apologizing for when he was wrong and started apologizing when he hurt the people he loved. He said he realized that he could be right about something and still cause harm. In that moment with my daughter, I wanted to acknowledge her feelings and invite her to share them with me and I believe those are good things. But when she pushed me away I decided to yell so she would hear me which isn't good.

What she needed more in those moments was for me to wait. She needed space. And eventually she needed connection. But it isn't my job to create that timeline for her. She doesn't need me to impose my thoughts and desires on her. She needed me to sit outside the door and wait for her to invite me in.