You head over to Best Buy because your computer crashed. You seem interested in the latest MacBook (or whatever) and the salesperson says something like, “When you get home you will be amazed how powerful this computer is.” They talk as if you have already purchased the machine, telling you how much “you are going to love it.” This approach is called “assumption selling.” Talking directly to the part of the customer that wants to buy the product works better than addressing their uncertainty and reservations. The salesperson assumes you’re going to buy it and sometimes the customer assumes it too. It’s a trick, but it works.
It works on kids too.
This time, you are not a customer at Best Buy. You are at the kitchen table when your 20-year-old comes home after a summer working with a circus troupe and announces he’s discovered his calling in life, is quitting college, and moving to Vermont to study circus performing. What would you say?
Working with your child’s positive assumptions.
Kids, teenagers in particular, “know” they will succeed. They often display absolute confidence they will be OK and everything is going to turn out just fine. Parents, on the other hand, bite fingernails knowing the world is vastly more complicated than a 14-year-old could ever imagine. We know the pitfalls—they don’t. We hold onto fear while they confidently skip through minefields. Parent’s scream, “look out,” “don’t go over there,” and “how could you be so stupid?” Somehow we think teenagers are going to see the brilliance of our logic and suddenly realize how naïve they are. More often, they just get pissed off and throw out the classic, “you don’t understand.” And while you certainly do understand the risks, what you might not appreciate is their unbridled (and sometimes misguided) confidence. They truly believe in themselves and feel insulted when you point out ways they could fail. When they say, “you don’t understand,” it’s not the situation you are misunderstanding. It’s them. They are saying, “you think I’m a failure,” “you don’t have any confidence in me,” or “you don’t understand me.” Then the kid thinks, “if you don’t understand who I am, why the hell should I listen to you?”
It’s important to speak to the person your kids think they are. Like a salesperson talking as if the customer has already bought the computer, the parent can speak to the kid who is succeeding—because in their mind they are. When the parent speaks to the child’s conception of self, kids are more likely to feel seen and listened to. But when we lead with fears and concerns, (as we often do) kids often tune out, lash out, or just shut down. Of course, we want to provide guidance, but our advice is useless if a child is unwilling to listen. Aligning with their self-confidence and holding space for their failures creates opportunities to express concerns. Expressing concern about their plan to go out with friends before a big test might not convince them it’s bad idea, but they will at least listen to you instead of simply ignoring you.
When parents see kids not showing “sufficient efforts towards success,” we often think, “they don’t give a crap!” They don’t care about the test, the game, or life. But they do. They just don’t think they have to care about studying, practicing, or waking up in the morning to be successful. Assuming they want to succeed changes how we approach their naivete. Reminding a kid to do their homework can feel either supportive or dismissive. If parents assume their kid doesn’t give a crap, we behave like we have to force them towards success. In this instance your simple reminder about homework might be interpreted as, “If I didn’t remind you about your homework you would fail. You would fail at life if I was not around.” They want to reply, “Do you think I want to be a total loser! Is that who you think I am!” Of course, that is not what you are saying, but it might be what they are hearing. Remember, the kid is sure she is going to be just fine. Aligning with her self-assurance doesn’t mean abandoning authority, support, or discipline. However, it does require a willingness to let them make bad decisions.
That is a hard thing to do. Bad decisions lead to bad emotions. No one wants to see their kids suffer. So, we try and protect them and warn them, “If you would’ve practiced like I told you, you would have won!” But, when you engage from a place of apprehension, doubt, and fear, a kid is less likely to seek support when they feel discouraged. Aligning in their assumption of success allows you engage in grief when they fail. “Wow, losing that race must have been really hard for you.” Talking to the person they think they are is essential. Otherwise, in their mind you are not talking to them—so your concerns are not relevant to their experience.
Being confident does not mean being right, it just means trusting the decision you are making at that time. By trusting (at least trying to trust or even pretending to trust) their decisions you are giving them the confidence to trust themselves. Often your kid’s confidence is justified, they knew the material for the test and got a good grade. Or you might be totally correct, they went out when they needed to study and did poorly on the test. Maybe you’ll be surprised by how well your kid understands herself or she might be surprised at how well you understand her. But those opportunities for connection and understanding evaporate when a child feels unseen.
Trusting their motivations is validating even when both of you might not be sure about a choice. Let them hold self-assurance. We all overestimate ourselves. When we empower a child to trust themselves, we open space to express concern. “That worries me, but I trust you” is very different from “That is a stupid decision.” By assuming success, a child can walk away from a failure and say, “hum, maybe mom was right about this one.” When you assume failure, a child will also walk away saying “Mom was right.” But this time it will validate your lack of confidence and reinforce theirs.
Working with your child’s negative assumptions.
When a kid says confidently, “I know I am going to fail!” It’s hard not to say, “Oh honey, no you won’t.” We think we are being supportive and encouraging, but a kid sees it as dismissive, out of touch, and stupid. “You’re only are saying that because you’re my dad. Being encouraging is just your job” or the ubiquitous “you don’t understand.” If a person is convinced they are going to fail, “trying” makes no sense. Failing hurts. It’s hard to blame a kid trying to avoid inevitable suffering. The problem is—suffering IS inevitable and avoiding it only creates more.
We think, “you can do it!” is a kind of assumption selling. You are encouraging your kids to believe in themselves. But, phrases like that can led to a very different logic. “If I can do it, and I don’t do succeed, then I’m a failure, a loser, and a disappointment.” That kind of encouragement can be good, but it does not address their fear. The fear is not that they won’t succeed, it’s that failing will hurt so much it’s not worth trying. They don’t believe they can weather the storms of sadness, pain, and dejection. You won’t be able to convince them otherwise. So, align with them, accept the self-doubt, encourage the best, and support them in failure. Aligning with their self-doubt is not expressing a lack of confidence. It is not saying, “you are right—you can’t do this.” It is saying, “Of course you are worried. I’d be worried too.” We all have self-doubt. Why is it not OK for them to experience it too? Acknowledging the normalcy of self-doubt is a kind of assumption selling. When a kid hears a parent say, “I think I might F this up” they come to the conclusion, “well if you (parent) have self-doubt too and you are ok, then I will be too.”
The “assumption” you are “selling” is not about whatever is stressing the kid out at the time. Your assumption addresses their fear that failure will devastate them. Speak to the part that does notbelieve they will be ok, but avoid aligning with their emotional anxiety. It is easy to get sucked into their fears and anxieties. Be calm. You know that whatever happens they will be OK, so act like it. But often, we are worried more about our emotional response to their sadness than their ability to manage it. They can manage it. They just don’t know it yet. Maybe we don’t either.
It is hard to say, “you’ll figure it out,” when you’re convinced they won’t.
But they will. Maybe not in that moment, but overtime they can learn failing is not failure and suffering is not life threatening. With our encouragement, failure and suffering become normalized, tolerable, and unavoidable. When a person embraces, ‘No matter what happens I will be OK” they can live into dreams many of us never even aspired to.
That is assumption selling. You normalize self-doubt and express the assumption they are resilient enough to handle any outcome. A part of them knows this, but does not always trust it. By speaking to that part of the child, they can come to accept this truth. Tell them they are not going to get everything right but they will always be wonderful, powerful, and lovely even when they get it wrong.
So, what do you say to your exuberant circus-bound 20-year-old?
The assumption seller might say, “I am so happy for you. That’s so awesome you’ve found a true passion!” They are making the decision anyway, why not align with their excitement and confidence? Speak to that exuberant part of them, not from the part of you riddled with fear your kid has lost their mind. Maybe they are right, it is their passion and years from now they are performing the world over. Or, a few years from now they will say, “What the hell was I thinking?” and move on. Either way, your expression of support and confidence will bolster who they are and who they intend to be. Best of all, through your acceptance and trust they may give you a front row seat to rest of their lives.
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makes me think of 'acting' not 'reacting' and about asking questions