Instilling the 3 Predictors of Fulfillment in Our Children
Last month, I listened to the book “Maybe You Should Talk to Someone” by Lori Gottlieb. I wrote a post about some things I took away from the book (besides the fact that listening to an audiobook takes 4x as long as reading the traditional way), but I was also inspired to re-read her article about parenting that propelled her career in writing to begin with. It’s called “How to Land Your Kid in Therapy,” and is one of The Atlantic’s most shared posts in the history of the publication.
Now, I’m not here to summarize that article. It’s worth the read in it’s entirety. I mostly want to riff off of one idea she wrote that not only influences my parenting, but how I, myself, interact with the world.
Lori writes, “According to Jean Twenge, research shows that much better predictors of life fulfillment and success are perseverance, resiliency, and reality-testing—qualities that people need so they can navigate the day-to-day.”
The “better than” reference is compared to accommodation and praise. Those things will not fulfill us. The analogy that comes to my mind is that a stroked ego is similar to a bag of potato chips. It gives us a shot of dopamine that lasts a very short period of time, then leaves us completely unsatisfied.
Perseverance- Continuing to pursue something for an extended period, even in the face of failure, setbacks, critique, or any other obstacle. (Defined by me, Shannon Leyko, on this 12th day of April, 2022.)
Resiliency- Similar to perseverance, but specifically not letting failure keep you from trying again or moving forward with intention. (Encyclopedia of Shannon Leyko)
Reality-testing- The ability to see a situation for what it really is, rather than what one hopes or fears it might be (okay I did have to look this one up). Basically, it’s Brene Brown’s “The story I’m telling myself is…” “The story I’m telling myself is that you didn’t speak to me at the party because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me” vs reality: The person didn’t speak to me at the party because they didn’t even see me. Or they got caught up in a conversation with someone else.
The ability to apply these three notions is an indicator of fulfillment. And how badly do we all want to feel fulfilled? It’s a similar experience to happiness, but less contingent on surroundings. I believe fulfillment is a deep satisfaction and contentment in life that transcends difficult or painful seasons. It’s what we all wish for, whether we realize it or not. “Contentment” might sound like a dirty 11 letter word to some people who claim it’s the antithesis of growth, but I believe we can be content, fulfilled, and satisfied amidst growth. They can exist simultaneously. In fact, it’s inside this status of peace that we can thrive and grow most successfully, without being hampered by the insatiable desperation that causes envy, exhaustion, self-loathing, or fear.
As a mother, I think a lot about my kids’ happiness. We all do! We want them to be fulfilled. I don’t think anyone wishes upon their children the shallow definition of happiness. But how we help them become fulfilled may require a bit of training on our parts. In many ways, we know what’s best for our kids, but in some instances, we may have to go against what our instincts tells us. We want to give them everything they wish for, but if our ultimate wish for them is their fulfillment, then sometimes that means saying “no” to what they wish for in the moment. To say no to the proverbial (or literal) potato chips.
I will always praise my kids and accommodate their wishes whenever it’s appropriate or healthy. This isn’t to say that we can never please our kids in the moment. My babies get a macaron whenever we go to my favorite gift shop that sells them, because life is way too dang short to not eat a cotton candy macaron. But we’re talking big picture here— perseverance, resiliency, and reality-testing.
So when my kid says he “can’t” do something, I encourage him to try again without doing it for him. When my daughter falls down and is clearly not injured, I let her get back up without running over to her. If my kids fight, sometimes I don’t intervene because they need to figure things out on their own instead of asking Mom to referee. And when the answer is “no,” I explain to them why instead of pulling the “because I said so,” but I stand firm in the boundary.
I know these types of parenting tactics only get more complex as they age, but I’m training myself now to strike the balance between being supportive and applying a constructive hands-off approach. I will always be available to guide them, protect them, advocate for them, and love them. Of course. However, I want them to have a level of autonomy that brings fulfillment.
My mother did a fantastic job instilling perseverance, resiliency, and reality-testing in my brother and me. I’m lucky to have seen this kind of parenting first-hand so I can emulate it. It’s why when she died, I could continue living and thriving without bitterness or complete debilitation. It’s why I’m a generally confident person, don’t get too down on myself or others in the face of mistakes, and feel joy on a daily basis—even in difficult moments. I’m happy. I’m fulfilled.
Of course in my case, faith is integrated in these concepts, propelling them along. But that makes them all the more true. They align with faith, and if they hold up in that light, I can see the value in them even more clearly.
As we move through a world inhabited by people feeling more empty, lonely, and unfulfilled than ever, applying values of perseverance, resiliency, and reality-testing in our parenting is the best way we can change the narrative for the next generation. And that means letting our children experience real-life challenges that hone these skills rather than shielding them from any discomfort or disappointment.
So let’s do it. Let’s loosen the reins and help our kids develop that bounce-back (resiliency), headstrong (perseverance), and empathetic (reality-testing) disposition that will serve them a whole lot better than the metaphorical potato chips of endless praise and accommodation.