Parenting the New Teen in the Age of Anxiety. John Duffy
I have noted some other interesting forms of backlash to the onslaught among a select few young people. I have worked with several teenagers who, for various behavioral or emotional health-based reasons, have been sent by their families to therapeutic wilderness camps. I am quite fond of these settings, not only for the intensive individual and group therapy they provide, but also for taking troubled kids entirely out of their unhealthy context, providing them an immediate, far healthier geographic setting in which to heal. Set in beautiful outdoor locations, these camps are fully outdoors, and campers are, often for the first time in the lives, responsible for themselves and each other for food, shelter, warmth, and travel on foot from one site to the next for approximately two full months, sometimes longer.
And at camp, technology is strictly off limits.
The transition tends to be trying at first, as most kids are angry at their families for sending them, worried they will be left behind socially, and reset, hard, from all of their vices, including their iPhones (and vapes, Juuls, computers, iPads, weed, alcohol, processed foods, and so on). After that period of adjustment, though, there tends to follow several weeks of profound healing and change. Imagine how liberating it must feel to truly be away from all the tech that clouds our minds. Kids tell me they are firmly set in the present moment, focused on the hike, or the river, or the sky, or their own breath. It’s a feeling most kids have likely never felt, and I suspect this condition will only worsen with each passing year. Honestly, I wish every kid could spare a couple of months out of their adolescence to be a part of a camp atmosphere like this. How cleansing for the body, mind, and spirit.
So, after the two months expire, kids return home. One boy told me about a moment, just hours after leaving his camp, in which he was in the front of a line at a McDonald’s in the airport nearby, heading home. He was looking at the menu when the kid behind the counter yelled at him, “Come on already! What do you want?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m just looking.”
Disgusted, the boy at the cash register yelled, “Next!”
“I just wasn’t thinking at that pace anymore,” my client told me. “And I didn’t want to.”
He had learned a lot about himself while away. And one of the first things he did was get rid of his smartphone, in favor of a retro flip phone. He knew he would want the ability to text his friends once he fully reintegrated into his life back home, but he also knew the smartphone was inherently toxic to his well-being, and he felt he was fully addicted to it before camp.
He is far happier now, and feels more emotionally in-balance than ever before. He never knew the type of peace of mind he experienced at camp was possible. It had never occurred to him, as he had never known a world without fairly constant access to a “soul-sucking” screen. A couple other clients of mine have followed suit, returning from a therapeutic wilderness camp and forgoing the smartphone, at least for a time. A couple of others, who have kept their phones, take breaks from social media, removing the apps from their phones in order to clear their minds. One girl in particular replaces Snapchat with Headspace, a simple and elegant meditation app, for a week or so every couple of months. She finds emotional self-regulation and balance that way.
My hope for our children is that we are quickly reaching critical mass, and a backlash is imminent. I suspect this generation will overtly begin to recognize the number their black mirrors are doing on their minds and their well-being, and seek wellness and balance instead. This is a thoughtful and intelligent group, this generation. They are better poised than any of us to make such a change.
In the meantime, I think we parents can do a couple of things to foster that change, and hasten it a bit. First, we of course need to better regulate our own screen time, including our time spent on social media. Modeling the behavior we want to encourage is the most effective method, and I think we are inherently aware of this reality. We can also take screen breaks as a family, and find some other activity to engage in collectively. And finally, I would strongly encourage you not to jump the gun in terms of providing your child with an iPhone or iPad. Wait a year or two. Allow them the space to breathe in the world with their eyes up, free of the overstimulation of the screen. I find that the more practice a client of mine has at this, the less likely they are to impulsively reach for their phone immediately as it buzzes, summoning their attention in the middle of a session.
Finally, I have worked with many parents who feel as if they no longer really know their teenager, this child they ushered into the world, who, up until just a few years ago, trusted them with almost everything, social, academic, or emotional. Now, they are upstairs behind a closed door, and they feel shut out of their world. I find, more and more, that the parents I learn are snooping in their child’s room, or on their various social media accounts, are not necessarily trying to “catch” their child in some misdeed. No, fundamentally, I have learned that an awful lot of parents miss their teenagers, and want to be part of their worlds again. Social media, even a “Finsta,” can be an interesting reintroduction to your child.
A Finsta (short for a fake Instagram account), for those of you who may be unfamiliar, is the second Instagram account your child may not tell you about, the one she shares with a select group of friends. That Finsta may prove more racy, salacious or, at times, inappropriate than what you are invited to see. Just know that, on any social media platform, your child may very well have more than one account, with split identities to keep track of. I find that this stuff gets very complicated when you really dig into it with teenagers. I feel for them that they sense a need to navigate it all, keep all those identity plates spinning every day, in order to just tread water socially.
A lot of the kids I work with invite me to follow them on some social media account or another. I find what I see there to be, on the whole, quite revealing: heartening, funny, sweet, and occasionally inappropriate, as teenagers are wont to be. But it’s so good to know them in this way, and sometimes talents and interests become apparent in a way that discussion does not always foster. I have discovered I am sitting across from a budding photographer, or a musician, or an artist, from clients’ social media. So, for parents, I encourage you not to fight the trend. It’s a very important part of the life of a child, understandably. And it’s a fight you will lose regardless. Instead, I encourage you to join in. Ask your child if you can follow her. You will feel closer to her. It’s pretty cool.
And remember, again, none of this is your child’s idea. As far as she is concerned, it has always been this way.
Defusing the Power of FOMO
FOMO, or the Fear of Missing Out, has become a far more impactful phenomenon in the age of social media, and the concomitant increase in social anxiety. I find that many parents find themselves inclined to reason their child through their FOMO: “You really couldn’t possibly be missing out on anything that important” or “Get your work done more efficiently, and you will have more time to spend with your friends.” I totally understand these tactics, and the fairly sound reasoning underlying them.
But FOMO tends to be a highly emotional and anxiety-inducing experience for a lot of kids, and reasoning through it does precious little to ease a teen’s anxiety. Instead, I would encourage you to think about your own experience of FOMO, as a teenager or, as so many of us experience, in the present day. Share your experiences with your child. Let them know you can relate to their feelings, and acknowledge the reality that they may well be missing out on something that might matter to them socially. This degree of understanding alone may ease some of their anxiety, just the knowing that someone “gets it.”
Then, I think it makes sense to work through the logistics with them: “You are probably going to miss out on something on occasion—we all do. But that’s okay. Most of us are trying to balance our work, other obligations, and social life. And, big picture, things tend to work out the way they need to.” Then, “How can we get you more involved socially?”
And please, if you feel you’re over your parental skis here, consult with a professional. The social anxiety affiliated with a persistent fear of missing out often requires therapy to rejuvenate a sense of self-worth, and perhaps some social skills training to get them connecting with peers. This really is that important.
With