Last year I was dealing with a break-up and a medical issue simultaneously. I was in serious need of emotional support. I could have used some old fashioned “caring” as well, but even TLC was in short supply at the time. In fact, both emotional support and caring were difficult to come by — are difficult to come by. And I think that’s true for many of us.
Adding fuel to the fire, my financial resources were draining away quickly, the result of medical expenses (even with insurance) and no disability or sick pay, absent an employment relationship.
I was scared, depleted, and demoralized. In free fall. Dropping down a well I thought, I hoped, I had finally climbed out of.
I felt alone, in the dark.
I longed for a shoulder to lean on, a voice to cheer me on, some mechanism to help me maintain perspective; someone who knew me, valued me, who was in my corner. That’s the very definition of emotional support — the presence of an intimate to remind us there’s light at the end of the tunnel, or in my case, a means to look up from the bottom of that well and see a ladder, a ledge, a way out.
When Times Are Tough… Some Stay, Some Go
Those who ultimately stepped in were not “the usual suspects.” I’m grateful for their reaching out. And here I am, roughly a year later, living through a handful of new challenges, and wondering how any of us manage to put the pieces back together when we feel shattered. I’m trying to suss out who and what assists, how to find support when we’re on our own, and just as important — how to pay it forward.
I ask myself… What is the difference between emotional support and caring? Is the distinction important? Can you provide emotional support to someone you don’t have deep feelings for? Is it reasonable to expect emotional support from those without an intimate connection?
What about caring? Isn’t caring simpler to provide than emotional support? As simple as expressing polite or tender concern? As simple as picking up the phone?
Since most of us need help at some point (and many of us are uncomfortable asking for it), and since most of us would do what we could to help (if we knew what that was), here I am, trying — for myself — to work through these issues. I’m trying to determine what a casual friend might need and how to provide it; what I might need in the future and whether I can reasonably anticipate getting it. I’m grappling with the reality that my current emotional “support network” is minimal and not proximate.
I imagine this is a common problem in my Boomer demographic.
Giving Emotional Support
In my example of last year’s challenges, as much as I needed logistical help (I was bed-ridden), it was the emotional support that I needed more — support to keep looking for medical solutions (which I eventually found), the permission to grieve the end of my relationship, and the freedom to articulate my fears.
I needed a friend I could rely on. One person was there as time allowed; demands on her life frequently kept her out of town.
For five months, I was a mess. Writing didn’t help. Reading wasn’t possible. Nothing seemed to ease the pain. Sleep had deserted. I accepted whatever emotional succor I could get, however uncomfortable I was in taking it — especially when it came from my sons (that’s not their job!), from strangers, or people I didn’t know well.
Complicating the situation, like many women of my generation, I’ve always found giving easier than taking. When someone I know needs me, unless I’m out of commission, I’m there. And even if I’m not at my best, if it all possible, I’m still there. I do what so many of us do quite naturally: listening, touching a hand, making a pot of coffee or a sandwich, allowing tears to flow without judgment.
This is also what a parent does for a child at times. It comes more naturally to some of us, but it comes more readily to all of us than we think it might… with a few how-to’s and a bit of practice.
Whatever You Call It, It’s Not So Hard
Call it TLC. Call it kindness. Fake it if you have to! Offering a little comfort isn’t so hard. Pick a few from this list, and you’ll see what I mean.
- Soothing words
- Listening
- Physical presence
- Touch
- Non-judgment
- Distraction
- Laughter
Not good with verbal reassurance? A hug will do. Not comfortable with that? Sit across the table and share a cup of coffee. Those last two items? They’re a judgment call to be sure, but they can work wonders. We know the physiological benefits that occur from a change in scenery or other distraction, and likewise from laughter.
While it isn’t necessarily our place to make sure a grieving friend is eating or sleeping, we shouldn’t forget to gently remind (or provide) a few basics like food, a few zzzzs, and exercise — if possible. And, professional assistance may advisable. A friend or loved one can only provide so much.
Can You Count on Your Partner for Emotional Support?
Providing emotional support in marriage or a relationship can be trickier than we think. All that triggering “stuff” between two people can clog the machinery of simple kindness. In many ways it’s easier to provide a sturdy and nonjudgmental shoulder to a long-time friend than to your husband or wife or lover. The fears, resentments, and petty jealousies that build over the course of the relationship can intrude. You may chafe at generating the heartfelt support your partner needs, particularly if it’s a recurring problem.
If one of you is suddenly faced with carrying a disproportionately heavy load of responsibility, much as you’d like to keep up the patience, the listening, the reassuring words, your own reserves are strained and emotional support is tougher to generate.
And if you aren’t married or living together, if you’re in a relationship of short duration, maybe you just don’t want to. Then what? And if you take a powder, are you a bad person?
Help, Caring, Kindness
I can imagine providing emotional support to a friend of short tenure, an acquaintance, or even a person who is a virtual stranger. “Virtual” is an important qualifier; don’t we commiserate with and lend a hand to those in our online communities?
Maybe the assist is informational help or a referral, compassion by way of listening, or a few kind words exchanged on chat, text, email or by phone. Realistically, the expectations of an acquaintance or a friend of short duration are different from those of someone who has known you for 10 or 20 years.
So what about a lover or a spouse? What about an ex? Why is it easier for some of us to provide consistent support and caring to friends, whereas we’re more challenged to do the same for the person we live with? Is it a matter of history? A partner who continues to fall off the wagon? What if he or she becomes verbally abusive under stress, compromising your ability to remain supportive? What if you’re just worn out from recurrent care-taking?
What if you are the one in need of help? Are you afraid to ask? Do you know how?
I found this Tiny Buddha post to be an excellent explanation of why we fear asking for help, and how to do so effectively. Among my own recommendations picked up the hard way… know your audience, be clear in your request, be specific, and be gracious no matter what — even if the answer is no.
Emotional Investment
Sometimes, people care deeply but they can’t express their caring in the ways we need it. Sometimes emotional support — listening, reassuring, being present with us through our pain so we don’t feel abandoned to it — isn’t in their wheelhouse. Haven’t you known individuals who don’t understand helping versus fixing — that we need that shoulder, that hug, that shared silence — not a list of tasks to “fix” our lives?
I wonder if it’s easier to be supportive when you’re less invested — not a couple, not living together, not married. Then, you don’t feel your own world In sight of the fault line, the ground shaky, your life on the edge of a precipice.
Love? It’s pretty fabulous when everything is going well.
Marriage? Likewise.
But as months turn into years or when challenging circumstances present, some of us are not equipped to support each other as we might like. Some of us struggle with finding the right words, the right touch, the right act of reassurance — even with a person we cherish.
You Can’t Choose Your Family, But…
Reminded by what I went through last year as well as more recent bumps in the road, I’m keenly aware of character issues in the people who are in (and out of) my life. Character plays an enormous part in standing by those we love… or not. But I also recognize that we each possess varying degrees of tolerance for toughing it out through hard times, much less extending gestures of sympathy to others.
My musing leads me to this. There are circumstances in which caring for an acquaintance is easier than providing emotional support to a loved one. Expectations are lighter, words and behaviors are received (and expressed) differently, and baggage is less likely to play a role. As for a spouse or significant other, expectations are greater, and disappointment or hurt more likely when we don’t “get as good as we give” — or so we think.
All the more reason to pay it forward whenever and wherever we can.
As for which is more essential in a pinch — emotional support or caring — I find emotional support to be more nourishing, going to the heart of our sense of self-worth and fighting the isolation we feel when we’re struggling. I admit, I expect it from a loved one as I give it myself. From a stranger, I find it uncomfortable.
Caring, on the other hand, can be powerfully helpful in almost any scenario. We should never discount the gift of a kind word, a sympathetic smile, or shared laughter.
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I think a key factor in providing emotional support or caring is, as you point out, the distinction between helping and fixing. It’s been my experience, most often, that friends try to help but family tries to fix. Helping is often gentle… fixing, often harsh, because it sometimes imposes subtle judgments (sometimes, not so subtle) on those in the throes of despair.
Excellent topic, worthy of reflection and action.
This topic of “helping vs. fixing” came up in discussion very recently. I wonder what you think of this, Angela… It was pointed out to me that “fixing” is not not helping; among other things, to the person who is attempting to offer counsel or make suggestions, they are doing so out of a desire to help and a perceived need to help. (At least, some are.) My counter to that remark was that women, or rather, this woman, has the experience of specifically asking for suggestions or input (in which case the “fixing” behavior is very much wanted and potentially helpful), which sits in contrast with someone not really listening (or observing), not recognizing that what I’ve needed is simply an arm around my shoulder or a simple “I’m sorry you’re dealing with this” rather than what comes across as a lecture on everything I haven’t tried, done, how I brought some misfortune on myself, etc. — ie, the dreaded judgment you mention.
Interesting that your experience is that family tries to “fix.” I’m going to think about that one…
Thanks as always for your thoughtful comments.
When it comes to friends, I’m a listener and gentle with my responses. I’ll only offer suggestions if asked to provide input. There have been exceptions, though. When two close friends presented serious medical problems with no relief from a variety of medical professionals, I suggested they each seek a consult with Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland. I did so based on an experience my sister-in-law had with fifteen years of misdiagnosis and treatment until her situation became dire (due to years of taking the wrong medications for a non-existing condition). My brother decided to take her to Johns Hopkins for analysis. It was there that they determined that she had been misdiagnosed, and was on medication for a condition she didn’t have. The end result is that she is now fine. When a close friend confided that she was worried about the TIA’s she was experiencing, I told her about Johns Hopkins. She made an appointment for a consultation, which she said was unlike anything she had experienced from a list of other medical professionals. Her end result was the that she had been misdiagnosed for years…having never had a TIA. Her condition was minor, and easily controlled with diet and proper medication. One other friend has been suffering for over a year with intense back pain…so severe it extends to her arms and legs. Numerous tests, with a variety of medical professionals, has resulted in no diagnosis, no treatment and no relief. I suggested Johns Hopkins, again, however, for reasons unknown to me, she has not consulted them.
Where family is concerned, I must admit that I am guilty of employing the “fixing” technique. It is seldom met with enthusiasm when offered to adults, so now, I wait to be asked. As parents, traditional roles require that we be “fixers” because that’s what responsible parenting requires when children are incapable of solving problems (medical or otherwise) for themselves. However, at some point we need to realize and respect the fact that those we always “fixed”, whether our own children, or siblings, have become independent, autonomous young adults. I understand the statement that “fixing” is not “not caring”, however, when the fixing is employed with adults, implicit in the dispensing of advice is the judgment that someone was not intelligent enough…responsible enough…perhaps too negligent, or too careless to help herself. It definitely is a slippery slope.
As an inner city high school teacher for over twenty years, I was definitely a fixer. The problems many of my students faced were critical and required decisive action, and I was never one, not to get involved. However, as a counseling psychologist, I was a listener, guiding clients to develop their own solutions to problems. Those roles can easily be confused as we sincerely, eagerly try to ease the pain of those we value.
As I write this, I just realized I violated my own rule earlier this morning by giving an unsolicited opinion……time to apologize. The struggle continues………..
🙂
Oh my dear Angela.
You have been so sweet in all your replies. Now I see why. You walk that very thin fragile line trying to determine what say from the education to that from your deep inner soul. Sometimes there is no “fixing.” But there is always the need to be heard to what is hurting. Sometimes there is no “fixing”, but accepting what is. No magic: just take a pill. Sometimes it is just accepting what is and loving the person as is.
Just love as long as we are allowed and forgive when we are not allowed to love.