With the world being what it is right now, I feel helpless, guilty, exhausted, and so so angry. I need a more drastic approach to everyday encounters than “Active Listening”, or “Listening to Learn”, which feels just one baby step away from complete ignorance.
Then child psychologist Dr. Becky reminded me of the phrase “I believe you”, often suggested for parenting through difficult emotional situations.
In practice, “I believe you” radically changes any conversation, and can open the door to completely new behaviors. To say “I believe you” forces me to close the gap between me and the Other across from me. It forces me to actively empathise, to validate, to take part in the other person’s world, to become invested in their feelings, and all the things that evoked these feelings - their history, their lived experience, their hopes and dreams, and to even look differently at my own role in evoking these feelings, and what I might trigger in others.
Saying “I believe you" to the ones I love.
I believe you, little one, my child. I believe that your big feelings, evoked by a seemingly benign situation, are real. You cry and scream and hide under the couch, making sure in between sobs that someone is looking. You cannot (yet) explain why you’re so upset. You are learning to understand your own agency, your independence. You are learning to have big feelings well before you can learn to deal with them, it’s all part of the process.
I believe you, my love. I believe that this is painful and real for you right now, and I am here for you. I won’t make these feelings go away. I will sit with you, letting time stand still, holding space. And when the moment is right, I will help you contextualize. And when you’re ready, I will lead you out of those feelings with compassion and care, to the next, calmer, more peaceful moment. Because that is what I consider my job as your guardian.
I believe you, my lover, life partner, closest friend, sibling, mother, father. Even though one might say you have a good home, a safe environment and a privileged life, you’re struggling. You are angry, frustrated, you feel unseen. You might be carrying things that are not yours to carry, never have been, old traumas that long needed to be let go. You might be grieving a version of you that got lost along your journey, but that you loved so much… You might be exhausted, feeling like you’re putting in so much more than you get out, and like your true self is vanishing in the endless stream of tiny daily compromises.
In your expression of your anger you might blame me, because I trigger things in you that make you feel helpless, because you feel me taking space leaves too little space for you, because we both might be trapped in routines that no longer serve us.
While none of this is my intention, and while I myself might be triggered by your accusations, still, I believe you. It takes tremendous courage to open up, and the right words are not always close at hand when emotions speak. I believe that you love me, and that the reason you speak out is because you want to continue your journey with me. I believe that you’re searching for ways to make it better, that you’re desperate for relief. And if I want that too, I will listen. I will let my own emotions come, then pass, to continue to hear what is going on with you. I will create space for both of us to heal, to rise above. I will give all that I am capable of giving without compromising myself, because I love you too.
Saying “I believe you” to the world I encounter.
My co-worker, employee, boss - professional relationship, I believe you. I believe that you are convinced that your perspective is correct, a conviction based on your professional experience, your education, your knowledge, your instinct.
I might feel you’re mistaken. But no one is wrong on purpose. I understand that our life experience and our emotions and ambitions seep through into each and every interaction, as the always-present but seldom acknowledged undercurrent that fuels our professional lives.
I will work to understand your background, your personal motivations, your professional fears. And I will check my own bias towards you, and towards my own ideas that I carefully crafted, nurtured and maybe fell in love with a little too much.
I will hold space for conflicting opinions, for inconvenient approaches, for new ideas. I will search together for new solutions, the ones that don’t feel like a compromise, but like that magical third option that truly has us all be winners. I know in order for this world to be okay, each one of us needs to feel ok.
And you, repeating after another the shouts to close the border... I might find your point of view unethical, unjust, disturbing, and I might deeply disagree, I might be triggered by what you say.
However, if I try to convince you that you are wrong, to educate you, to convert you, that implies that I do not believe you. I need to remind myself that your views are as much culturally and educationally motivated as are mine, that the fear and anger and the longing for belonging that drive your political, economical and cultural views are absolutely real to you, that pain might have done a number on you at some point in your life, and that your viewpoint gives you hope for a better future.
I will try to understand your story. I will voice my disagreement to the extent that personal integrity demands it. I will share my own viewpoint, my personal experience, and I will stand up for what I feel is right. But I will separate my disagreement with your views from you, the person, and I will hold all these contradictions that come when seeing a beautiful person perpetuating ugly things in the same heart, because I know that the inability to talk is part of what got us here in the first place, and I have seen the healing power of personal connection.
Saying “I believe you” to myself.
And I believe me. I believe in myself. I believe my own feelings as they come and go, confusing, painful, beautiful, irrational.
I believe my own grief about the things I’ve experienced and didn’t like, about the person I once was and no longer am, about the isolation I sometimes feel, the youth I miss, the hopes and dreams that keep me up at night - the person I strive to be, the life I’ve yet to live.
I find the courage to step into the unknown as I shed layers of identity that I continue to be in love with, but that no longer serve me. I feel the newfound freedom, the fire in my soul, my essence, that fuels love and compassion and creative expression. I feel my strength to go further, to ask harder questions, to radiate in an even brighter light.
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As this new year unfolds, with all its turbulence, plot twists and horrors, I will practice this mantra. “I believe you”. With an open heart, a calm mind, without self-sacrifice, with strong healthy boundaries being part of my commitment. My hope is that it can help me continue to engage, keep my eyes open, stay present. It is what I will contribute, right now. It might seem minor. But sometimes, it’s the small gifts that matter most.
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