Your deeply feeling child is with lots of cousins, and you have extended family all around. Your child trips, falls, feels embarrassed (this part isn’t visible, but you know it’s true), and then has a meltdown.&nbsp; You go over to comfort your child, and you overhear other family members saying things like this: “She is so overly-emotional” and “Just leave her alone, don’t let her think she can get your attention like that” and “What a drama queen.” You hear these words, and you know your child does too.&nbsp; What’s a parent to do?



In this moment, we have a choice: we can prioritize the comfort of the adults around us by minimizing their comment (“Oh come on, not true”) or ignoring it (walking away) or joining in (“I know she is!”). Or we can prioritize the protection of our child by sharing a different way of viewing what’s happening (“Please don’t say that about her—it’s not true. She’s having a tough time right now. We all have tough times.”).



Here’s the thing: if we don’t speak up for our child, our child reads our silence as agreement or at least as acceptable.&nbsp; And this reaction to other people’s comments is likely more hurtful to a child than the comments themselves.&nbsp; Our kids respond to the version of themselves we reflect back to them. Our kids are hypervigilant about how we label who they are or how we resist common labels and give them a different story about themselves to buy into.



If standing up for your child to others feels uncomfortable, that doesn’t make you a bad parent. It probably means that conflict feels tricky to you and that you are accustomed to helping others feel at ease, sometimes even at the expense of honoring your own needs.&nbsp; Remember that you are the sturdy leader of your family, and this includes speaking up for your child, letting them know how you see them, and how you want them to see themselves.



Here are some scripts you can use to speak to people who label your deeply feeling child in harmful ways:



<ul><li>“We don’t agree.&nbsp; She’s a good kid having a hard time, and we respond to her based on seeing her like that.”</li></ul>



<ul><li>“No, she’s not dramatic. Please don’t use that word again about her.”</li></ul>



<ul><li>“It’s hard to have big feelings. For everyone.”</li></ul>



<ul><li>“It’s important for us that people don’t use words like that about him.&nbsp; How we speak to our kids becomes how they think about themselves, and so we want the important people in his life using words that are compassionate, not judgmental.”</li></ul>

Caucasian woman holding and protecting young son, away from group of people

When Other People Label Your Child

Deeply Feeling Kids

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Family Jobs: What They Are and Why They Matter

A Pilot Metaphor to Understand Sturdy Leadership

Foundational Strategy For Every Feeling

What is Repair and Why Does It Matter?

Go-to Foundational Ideas

Script for Responding to Your DFK’s Hurtful Words

Script for Talking to Your DFK About Their Hurtful Words Outside of the Moment

Script for Explaining a DFK’s Tough Moments to Siblings

Siblings

Script to Share With the Sibling of a DFK

Scripts for Handling DFK Meltdowns

DFK Containment Cheat Sheet

We are often taught to “validate our kids’ feelings,” which means to see the feelings under their behaviors and name them as real and believable. There’s nothing wrong with this strategy; it’s one I often think is super helpful! And yet, some kids (or all kids in some situations) actually do better when instead of validating the feeling… we validate the magnitude of the feeling. 

Let’s take an adult example to drive this point home, and then we’ll circle back to give examples of how to validate the magnitude with your kids. Imagine this day: you start by spilling your coffee all over your white shirt, then you’re late for an important meeting, then you find out a group of friends all had dinner together and didn’t invite you, and then you get home and realize you lost your wallet. You melt into a crying puddle. (Understandable, I would, too!)

Now, imagine that your partner or a friend sees you and validates your feeling by saying, “You’re upset. You’re allowed to be upset.” Of course, there are worse things to say, but if you’re like me, something about this doesn’t quite register.  So let’s try on something else.  Now imagine your partner or a friend sees you and validates the magnitude of your feeling by saying, “Wow, you’re not normal upset… your upset is HUGE! It's basically as big as it’s ever been!” Sometimes, having someone name our feeling isn’t what we need to feel truly seen. When things feel awful, having someone name the size of our feeling is more in line with the intense experience we’re having, and this type of validation helps us gain the connection we need.

So, how does this work with our kids? Well, for some kids, especially DFKs, validating the magnitude of a feeling is much more effective than validating the feeling itself. Seeing the magnitude helps turn a confusing mass of emotion into something concrete and easier to understand. For example, let’s say your child was expecting a friend to come over, and you just heard from the parent that they had to cancel the playdate. You tell your child, and she’s immediately dysregulated - crying, screaming, maybe yelling, “I hate you, you lied to me!”  In this situation, my hunch is that naming the feeling (“You’re disappointed, I know.”) may actually inflame your child because it’s not so much the disappointment as the surprise and size of the disappointment that feels the worst. So, instead, try validating the magnitude: “You really wanted Ina to come over…you weren’t expecting the playdate to be canceled, I know. You wanted her to come over SO big… as big as this room! Or no…as big as this whole house! What? Oh wow. As big as this whole neighborhood!” 

Or, let’s say the playdate does happen, and it’s time for Ina to get picked up, which makes your child very angry (“No! She can’t leave! Five more minutes! FIVE!”).  To validate the magnitude, pull your child to the side and say, “You’re not ‘usual’ upset about this... you’re as upset as this whole car! No, bigger… your upset is as big as this whole street!” 

Many children immediately take to this strategy because it describes emotions in a way that is finally comprehensible — in terms of size! Your child may correct you and say, “I’m not as upset as this house; I’m as upset as the whole WORLD!” Allow this because it means that a child can put meaning to their internal experience, which is a key skill in learning how to self-regulate. Once you’ve validated the magnitude, pause, look at your child lovingly, and maybe add, “I’m so glad I know how big it is. It’s so important. I’m here with you.”

Validate the Magnitude

Tantrums

You follow Good Inside’s DFK framework in your home and notice that your DFK’s school does something very different in the classroom. We can help you bridge that gap with key ideas, scripts, and strategies that will help your child’s school and teacher understand our approach and your DFK.



Remember, there may be ways you’ll need to amend these examples for your DFK, but think of this as a starting point.



<h2>How to Start the Conversation</h2>



<ol><li>Explain why you’re explaining. “I want to share some information about our awesome kid (Child’s Name). Sometimes her behavior has been interpreted in ways that haven’t been helpful for her, so we want to get ahead of that and tell you what we’ve learned about her development.”</li></ol>



<ol start="2"><li>Explain what it means to be a DFK. “We believe she is a Deeply Feeling Kid. Not sure if you have heard that term? It’s a whole approach developed by a clinical psychologist that helps reactive kids, the ones who go from zero to sixty, and often push adults away when they need them the most. These kids have traditionally been labeled as defiant or difficult or dramatic. This new framework does just the opposite. It sees these kids as good kids having a hard time. Not bad kids doing bad things.”</li></ol>



<ol start="3"><li>Make sure they know you’re on the same team. “We would love to share a few details about this DFK framework with you. We see ourselves on the same team, Team (Child’s Name). We know this might feel new, it’s new to us too, but we know that doing this together will help everyone.”</li></ol>



<ol start="4"><li>Share some key points. “DFK’s feelings transform really quickly. This means that a feeling of being left out, confused or misunderstood can turn into big emotions without any warning. These big emotions look like rage, not listening, mean words, hostility, and even aggression. These emotions actually mean that this child is afraid. They are afraid of their own experience, emotions, and bodies. And we need your help to make them feel safe.”&nbsp;</li></ol>



<ol start="5"><li>Offer some helpful DFK strategies. “So what to do? It’s so tricky. To start, we’ve noticed that just thinking about her as a good kid who is having a hard time changes our way of interacting with her. We’ve also noticed it's super important not to react with punishment or harsh criticism, as this only leads to DFKs concluding, ‘See? I really am bad inside’, and then they further identify with a bad kid role—which none of us want! This doesn’t mean we have an anything goes approach. Not at all. But pulling her to the side or out of a classroom and saying, “I'm here. We’re going to get through this. You’re a good kid. It’s okay,” is really important instead of responding harshly. DFKs also do well when they know they’re not alone, but most of this work has to be done in advance, before the spirals start! So, if we know math is hard for her, we might share a story about when math was hard for us when we were her age—before she starts. This really helps.”</li></ol>



<ol start="6"><li>Show flexibility to bridge the home-to-school gap. “We know that school is different from home. And we know that in the classroom, it is just you and so many kids who have unique needs! So, we would love to brainstorm together about how any of these ideas could be possible in the classroom.”&nbsp;</li></ol>



<h2>Dos for Teachers: Strategies That Help DFKs</h2>



<ul><li>Containment. A DFK experiences themselves as out of control—and this is terrifying to them! In their toughest and biggest escalations, DFKs need an adult to take them to a smaller space (a “container”), sit with them there, and wait it out. No, this doesn’t reinforce bad behavior.</li><li>Seeing the Good Inside by wondering what was under “bad” behavior. For example, you see a DFK push another child on the playground. What should you do? Pull the DFK inside and aside and ask, “Huh, I saw you push Marco. And I know you and I both know that there’s a no pushing rule in this school. So I'm wondering what happened there? Something must have felt really bad right before that. Let’s talk about it so we can figure it out.”</li><li>Telling stories to “de-shame” struggles. “I’m thinking about how we have writing later on today. Did you know that I hated writing when I was your age? It was so hard!”</li><li>Leading with believing, even before you understand. “Something about this feels really bad to you. I believe you.”</li></ul>



<h2>Don’ts for Teachers: Strategies That Escalate DFKs</h2>



<ul><li>Talking with them directly about how they feel. “You look mad, mad, mad!” This feels too intense and intrusive for DFKs and will lead to an escalation in intense emotions.</li><li>Punishment and consequences. DFKs have a core fear that they are “bad inside.” Punishments and consequences are stored as confirmation of this fear and lead DFKs to develop more shame and further identify with the bad kid role—all of which leads to more out of control behavior.</li><li>Calling them out publicly and inducing shame. DFKs are already very shame-prone and very sensitive to what others see in them. Calling them “out” in the middle of a class (“You have a time out now!” or “I’m sending you to the principal!”) leads to an even more intense shame spiral.</li></ul>



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Explaining DFKs to Teachers

School

This is a long one! Read it slowly or a bit at a time, I want to be sure you have everything you need, all spelled out for you, in one place.



Your child is upset. You access the calm, kind, validating parent inside of you, and it just doesn’t help at all. Screaming ensues, crying escalates, and kicking and flailing begin. Maybe words like “I HATE YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME RIGHT NOW!” or “YOU’RE THE WORST PARENT IN THE WORLD!” are thrown in there. I’ve been there before—many times.



So, what do we do when our child is beyond the point of no return? What do we do when our child is actually engaging in dangerous behavior?



First, we need to understand what’s going on with our child. And then, we need to put together a game plan. The truth is, in these intense moments, we can’t know exactly what is going on. Children often look for opportunities to discharge their stored-up, uncomfortable feelings after those feelings have accumulated to a no-longer-manageable level. 



So what do you know? Your child is having very big, very real feelings and isn’t looking to feel better quickly. It’s safe to assume that when children have one of these “point-of-no-return” meltdowns, they are saying, “This is not just about this moment. I’ve been having a lot of distressing feelings, and my body feels on fire, and it all needs to come out. So please give me a safe space for this outflow of emotion. And please stay in that space with me, hold the boundary lovingly even when I protest and have some faith that I will be okay again soon.”



Am I saying that I would let my kid kick and hit me in the yard, call me nasty names at a birthday party, or just continue the “I hate you, you’re the worst, get away from me!” monologue around the house? No, I absolutely would not allow any of these things. Would I allow my child to discharge much of this energy (not the physical aggression!) in his room while I sit there as a witness? YES, and this is the key to the “method” of containment.  



We need to put up a physical boundary around a child’s intense emotional experience to help a child start to regulate. The walls of a small room create this boundary; the vastness of a yard or a birthday party does not. Boundaries are critical in helping children feel safe as they communicate: “Your feelings can come out, but I will stop them from destroying the world around you. Getting the feelings out will help you, but acting out in a fury will make you feel worse. So, I will allow the first and prevent the second.”  



One final and important point: Some children are more prone to have these “point-of-no-return” meltdowns. They feel things more deeply and for a longer time than other kids. These children often evoke in parents a search for blame, as we alternate between “What is wrong with my child?” and “What is wrong with me, the parent?” But here’s the thing: it’s nobody’s fault—not yours and not your child’s. It’s mostly temperament that causes a child to have these intense emotional displays. And what we need to start practicing is acknowledging blaming thoughts when they arise (“Ah… there you are, blaming thought. You’re visiting again. Hello!”) and then allowing another thought, something like: “This is nobody’s fault.  My child is feeling things intensely.  My child needs my help.”



Loving Physical Containment step-by-step:



<ol>
<li>Recognize when your child is past the point-of-no-return. The signs: a meltdown escalates rapidly, a child rejects your soothing and gets more upset, there is flailing, either physical (hitting, kicking, body thrashing on the floor) or verbal (screaming, aggressive words toward you).</li>
</ol>



<ol start="2">
<li>Tell yourself: “My child needs my containment help. She is going to try to reject it. I am still going to do what I know needs to be done. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.” Your child will try to reject your help, but she’s really saying to you, “Please be strong. Do the thing that’s best for me even when I test you and scream and protest.”</li>
</ol>



<ol start="3">
<li>Take a few deep breaths, then go up to your child and pick her up and carry her into her room or a room that is relatively “safe” (i.e., there aren’t dangerous items that will get incorporated into the emotional storm). Take another deep breath, and then say only this to your child: “I love you. I will sit with you while you let all of this out.” Your child will most likely resist you. She might yell “NO, NOOOOO!!!” or tell you that she will calm down if you let her leave. Stay the course. You know what she needs right now—your loving presence and containment.</li>
</ol>



<ol start="4">
<li>Get into the room, shut the door, and sit at the door, so your child cannot get out. Will she try? Probably, yes. Luckily, you’re bigger than her. Sit there.</li>
</ol>



<ol start="5">
<li>What do you do? First, a few things to start: prevent any physical aggression. Children need proof that parents can “stop” them from making bad decisions to feel safe. So get your hands ready to block a hit or a kick, take a deep breath, and say to your child, “I won’t let you hit me. I’m here because I won’t leave you alone with these big feelings.  It’s okay for you to be having them, but I won’t let you hit.”</li>
</ol>



<ol start="6">
<li>Focus on your own deep breathing. Make your breaths a bit exaggerated and audible, both for yourself and for your child. If you do nothing but sit at the door and take deep “straw” breaths, you’re ahead of the game. Kids biologically pick up on their parents’ emotional state; they can feel your regulation, and it helps them calm down.</li>
</ol>



<ol start="7">
<li>Tell yourself, over and over, “This is okay.  I am okay. My child is okay.” If it feels very odd to be sitting with your child in this way, tell yourself, “This feels so weird to me, which is a sign that this is a really new thing for me to do. That’s actually a good sign, a sign of change.” </li>
</ol>



<ol start="8">
<li>Before you talk to your child, find your slow pace and soft tone. Loud, messy tantrums need calm, steady voices.  Tell your child some collection of the following, more slowly and quietly than feels natural: “You’re okay.  You’re having big feelings. I’m here. I love you. Do your thing. You’re allowed to feel this way.”  Or try to sing a simple song over and over, very slowly, something like, “Blake, Blake it’s okay… Blake, Blake it’s okay… Blake, Blake it’s okay…let’s take a deep breath,” and then take an audible slow diaphragmatic breath (you can see me demonstrate this type of song<a href="https://cms.goodinside.com/video/2853/mid-tantrum-strategy-song/"> in this video</a> “Helping Your Child Regulate: Non-Verbal Cues and Generous Interpretation”).  The theme here is that your tone and pace have to be regulated if you say anything.  Our calm in the face of a tantrum feels very safe to children. Wait it out. It can take 5, 10, or sometimes 20 minutes. Go back to Step #7 to keep yourself calm if you need to.</li>
</ol>



<ol start="9">
<li>If once in the room, your child still needs containment (which you’ll know by her demolishing the room or being a danger to herself or you), she needs you to very lovingly and very securely hold her, so she cannot continue to destroy the world around her. Think about a loving hug that says, “My body is around yours. I’m moving even closer to you because you really need me right now. I’m keeping you safe.”  You can even say these words.</li>
</ol>



<ol start="10">
<li> You may find that your child resists you even though she needs it. Or perhaps your child is getting bigger, and you’re not sure you could hold her. Learning how to implement Loving Physical Containment in the face of intense dysregulation is critical to helping many children. Having said that, this strategy, especially the Hold aspect, is more nuanced than others I write about due to its physicality, and if you feel hesitant about it, please do discuss it with a mental health professional. </li>
</ol>



Some things to consider before putting Loving Physical Containment into practice:  



<ul>
<li>Of all the things I write about, I’d say that this containment method is something to really consider before you do it. Let this strategy marinate for a little while before you think about trying it.  Ironically, give yourself permission to not put this into action, yet.</li>
</ul>



<ul>
<li>Talk to your partner, and maybe think about which of you would be best to implement it. The key here is being able to stay calm the whole time, so you don’t add fear to your child, who is clearly in fight-or-flight mode to begin with.  </li>
</ul>



<ul>
<li>Which room would be the best “container”? If it’s your child’s room, are there things you need to put on a high shelf or away in a closet so the room is safer? Are there hard plastic toys or blocks or jewelry boxes that need to be put out of your child’s reach? </li>
</ul>



Print out this article and put it somewhere hidden in your child’s room (maybe under a dresser or bed) so, that when the moment comes, you can grab it and glance at it here and there? What else will you need to help you stay grounded when your child is having such a hard time?



<a href="https://www.goodinside.com/video/1261/small-injuries-big-reactions/">Up Next: Why Small Injuries Get Big Reactions</a>

Loving Physical Containment

“My daughter tripped and fell… but then it’s like there’s an entire storm that hits our house. It seems like feeling embarrassed just starts an awful spiral. Why?”



“My son makes a big deal (a huge deal!) out of nothing. He’s learning to read and is actually so advanced, but he misreads one word, and it’s like a monster erupts out of him. It seems like embarrassment just turns into shame, and things just get out of control.”



“Why does my child lose it when he feels embarrassed? Things escalate so much!”



Ah, yes. DFKs and embarrassment—let’s talk about it. This topic is complicated and important, and yet, once we understand what’s going on, we feel sturdier and know how to show up for our kids.



First things first: what is embarrassment and what is shame? I think of embarrassment as a feeling that brings on self-consciousness, as in, “Oh, I wish that didn't happen” or “I wish people didn’t see that happen!” And yet, during a moment of embarrassment, we can see our experience as just that—a moment, not the entirety of our identity. During embarrassment, we can hold onto our general internal goodness and attachability. And therefore, we may not like the feeling, but we can stay grounded.&nbsp;



Shame is different. Shame is a feeling that makes us doubt our goodness and attachability, so we are not grounded at all. Let’s look at the same behavior (for example, a child trips and falls or a child misreads a word); with embarrassment, a child can see the behavior as an experience I had. In contrast, with shame, the experience takes over, and the child cannot hold onto their subjectivity. So what happens next? An abyss, the loss of groundedness, an existential threat state, and behaviors reminiscent of a caged, terrified animal.



This is the essence of a DFK. First, there’s a loss of self, and then a fight ensues after to "survive." Of course, we love our kids and don't even think of these moments as "failures'' or even as big deals—but that’s not the experience for our sensitive, hypervigilant DFKs! Almost anything that falls into the "I didn't want that to happen" category for a DFK can bring on shame. Why? Because their world feels upside down when they feel a loss of control, and this feeling is so unraveling.



So what’s a parent to do?&nbsp;



In the moment: wait it out. Don't interpret (avoid saying, "You're embarrassed! It's okay!"). Don't try to go in "too hard" to connect (your DFK likely won’t like hearing, "Come here! I can hug you!"). Just stay present. Witness what is happening, take a breath, and prepare for a storm (it will likely happen even if you do everything "right"). Maybe say, "You didn't want that to happen," quietly. Don’t make direct eye contact because, in a moment of vulnerability, DFKs interpret eye contact as acts of aggression, not support. Your job is to stay as sturdy as possible, which requires doing less than we think.&nbsp;



I know. This all sounds pretty unremarkable and unrewarding. But it’s also achievable because if we know our role, we can define our "success" not by our kids' response but by doing what we know we need to do.



And outside the moment? This is the perfect opportunity to use “parenting through play” by acting out some of these struggles in a safe play setting. For example, maybe the Dump Truck has a spiral when his truck friends see him make a mistake, or a Stuffed Animal has a spiral when she trips while running. You can also model the process of having a shame spiral yourself and then talk about the process of recovery. For example, maybe you read a word aloud and “get it wrong” and then say aloud, "Okay... I got that wrong. I really didn't want that to happen. I am okay. I can still read.”&nbsp;



Knowing how close embarrassment sits to shame gives us a better understanding of our child, and the more clarity we have, the sturdier we will be.

Why Embarrassment Feels More Like Shame for DFKs

Written by Kelly Nadel, Director of Clinical Training at Good Inside



It’s hard to have a sibling. Even under the best circumstances, kids fight, compete for resources, challenge roles in their families, and generally question their goodness. Now layer on that one of the siblings is a DFK who struggles with emotional regulation, intense outbursts, and difficult recoveries, and it’s hard to imagine that your kids would ever get along.



DFKs have a special place in our hearts and they get a lot of air time here at Good Inside, so we thought it was time to turn our attention to their siblings.&nbsp;



These are our kids who may feel a little invisible or who try not to “need too much.” They likely have had to put their desires on the backburner while they exercise patience as a DFK’s struggles are center-stage. As their parents, it’s important that we acknowledge and support them. After all, we want our non-DFK kids to know that their needs and feelings also matter, even if they’re not as fiery.



So, how do we talk to our less expressive children about their DFK sibling? Your conversation might start something like this:&nbsp;



"I know how hard it is sometimes, being the sister to your sibling. I think about this a lot, and I want you to know a few things that I don't always get to say.”



Next, follow up with one or more of these thoughts that feels right for your kid:



<ul><li>I see you.&nbsp;&nbsp;</li><li>I see that you have big feelings too, even though you don't express them like your sibling.</li><li>I see when you feel ignored.</li><li>I see when you have to do more than you should.</li><li>I see when you try really hard to be "good."</li><li>I see that you are ALWAYS good inside.</li><li>I see that you wish I made more time for you.</li><li>I see that you can love and hate your sibling at the same time.</li></ul>



And finally, remind them that:



“I know right now your sibling needs more from me. I know that doesn't feel fair. I also know, it won't always be this way. I love you. You are good inside. And I'll always be here for you."



Remember: we don’t have to change or fix a family dynamic as much as we have to acknowledge it. Speaking to your non-DFK child’s experience helps that child feel seen and safe, and important.

What the Sibling of Your DFK Needs to Hear

How to Handle Screaming

Rudeness

Sensitivity to Laughing

This outline is designed to guide you through the <a href="https://cms.goodinside.com/workshop/1533/deeply-feeling-kids-part-2/view/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Deeply Feeling Kids, Part 2 Workshop</a>. We hope this helps you organize your thoughts and remember key ideas.



<a class="btn btn-primary" style="text-decoration: none;" download="" href="https://cms.goodinside.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/DFK2WorkshopOutline-210511-165650.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download Outline</a>

Deeply Feeling Kids, Part 2 Outline

This outline is designed to guide you through the <a href="https://cms.goodinside.com/workshop/1535/deeply-feeling-kids/view/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Deeply Feeling Kids Workshop</a>. We hope this helps you organize your thoughts and remember key ideas.  



<a class="btn btn-primary" style="text-decoration: none;" download="" href="https://cms.goodinside.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/DeeplyFeelingKidsOutline-210506-150639.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download Outline</a>

Deeply Feeling Kids Outline

Your deeply feeling child is with lots of cousins, and you have extended family all around. Your child trips, falls, feels embarrassed (this part isn’t visible, but you know it’s true), and then has a meltdown.&nbsp; You go over to comfort your child, and you overhear other family members saying things like this: “She is so overly-emotional” and “Just leave her alone, don’t let her think she can get your attention like that” and “What a drama queen.” You hear these words, and you know your child does too.&nbsp; What’s a parent to do?



In this moment, we have a choice: we can prioritize the comfort of the adults around us by minimizing their comment (“Oh come on, not true”) or ignoring it (walking away) or joining in (“I know she is!”). Or we can prioritize the protection of our child by sharing a different way of viewing what’s happening (“Please don’t say that about her—it’s not true. She’s having a tough time right now. We all have tough times.”).



Here’s the thing: if we don’t speak up for our child, our child reads our silence as agreement or at least as acceptable.&nbsp; And this reaction to other people’s comments is likely more hurtful to a child than the comments themselves.&nbsp; Our kids respond to the version of themselves we reflect back to them. Our kids are hypervigilant about how we label who they are or how we resist common labels and give them a different story about themselves to buy into.



If standing up for your child to others feels uncomfortable, that doesn’t make you a bad parent. It probably means that conflict feels tricky to you and that you are accustomed to helping others feel at ease, sometimes even at the expense of honoring your own needs.&nbsp; Remember that you are the sturdy leader of your family, and this includes speaking up for your child, letting them know how you see them, and how you want them to see themselves.



Here are some scripts you can use to speak to people who label your deeply feeling child in harmful ways:



<ul><li>“We don’t agree.&nbsp; She’s a good kid having a hard time, and we respond to her based on seeing her like that.”</li></ul>



<ul><li>“No, she’s not dramatic. Please don’t use that word again about her.”</li></ul>



<ul><li>“It’s hard to have big feelings. For everyone.”</li></ul>



<ul><li>“It’s important for us that people don’t use words like that about him.&nbsp; How we speak to our kids becomes how they think about themselves, and so we want the important people in his life using words that are compassionate, not judgmental.”</li></ul>

Key Strategy for DFK: Your Presence

Deeply Feeling Kids Need a Different Approach

Deeply Feeling Kids: Part One

NEW Deeply Feeling Kids: Part Two

Your DFK is having a massive meltdown - they are totally out of control, flailing, kicking, clawing at your body, and hurling insults at you like, “I hate you!” and “You are the worst parent ever” and “I don’t love you, I mean it I mean it I mean it!” - and while you have every single intention of wanting to be a study leader… you feel your blood boiling, you notice an urge to hurl insults right back at your child, and you just want to walk out of your child’s room and slam the door and scream.



First things first: You’re a good parent with a good kid. I know, neither of those feel true right now. And still, they are. Trust me here. I am 100% sure this is true.&nbsp; Second: I’ve been there. Truly. I have. Many times. Third: These are incredibly hard parenting moments. These are the moments where so much is happening, where we are actually trying so hard to be an active cycle-breaker, to show up for our child in a way no one would have shown up for us. Fourth: I am going to walk through some key ideas for how to help our DFKs when they’re at their most escalated but first, let me say this: nothing will feel as easy IRL as it seems here. These are words written down, not life acted out in real time. Words are easier than life.&nbsp; So if your real life moment doesn’t go smoothly… JOIN THE CLUB. These are ideas and principles and strategies to come back to, to consider, to work on, to wonder about… not guidelines that can be “perfectly” followed.&nbsp; You’re an amazing parent for being here and reading this.&nbsp; Remember that over and over.



Ok, here are our perfect-in-theory and much-harder-IRL guidelines: 



1. You are not your child. Ok, I know, this seems obvious, but actually it’s not obvious at all in the moment, and realizing this difference is fundamental to showing up in a way that feels good for you and helps your child. Your child is having a really hard time.&nbsp; You are not your child. Your child is screaming. You are not your child. Your child is saying awful things. You are not your child.&nbsp; Right now, visualize your child in one of these states. Now visualize a barrier around you - a circle of some type. Make it glass or something you can “see through” but is still a wall. This is the essence of boundaries. I can see my child, his struggle, and his pain… AND at the same time, I am not melding into him.&nbsp; We need to separate ourselves from our kids to help them. If their emotional tornado engulfs us, well, we become an emotional tornado as well. 



2. Mantra + Grounding Exercise. I love a good mantra especially to help in overwhelming situations. Try this one: “My child is having a hard time. I am not my child. My child is over there. I am over here.”&nbsp; While saying this right before or after, place your feet on the floor and press into the ground. Literally feel your feet as your foundation.&nbsp; What do these things do? They remind you that you are here, you are not floating away, you are not becoming your child, you are a sturdy leader. You have to establish a boundary between you and your child to be able to help. 



3. We are only in control of ourselves. This is an extension of boundary setting. Remind yourself that your child is going to do what they’re going to do for as long as they do it - they may continue to scream or cry or flail. As long as they’re not endangering themselves or you… it’s ok to allow it (If they do try to hit you or throw an item in the room, jump in immediately with an “I won’t let you…” to stop the behavior). It’s very empowering to remind yourself, “I don’t have to end this tantrum! I really don’t!” We can’t end big rain storms. We can put ourselves in the best position possible to wait it out.&nbsp; The rain will end when it ends… and it always does. Every time. It can’t go on forever.&nbsp; What do I do during one of my kids’ emotional rain storms? I sit down in their room, focus on my breathing, and tell myself that this will end when it ends, and my main job is to try to keep my body as calm as possible. 



4. It’s ok to need to regulate yourself. If you feel yourself getting escalated and you need a “break” to calm your body, that’s fine! Name this as your need as opposed to blaming this on your child. This means saying, “I am noticing my body needs a bit of space and a deep breath. I’m stepping right outside your door to calm my own body down and then I’ll come back. This isn’t your fault and I love you and you’re a good kid and I’m coming back.” This is very different from, “No one can be with you when you’re like this!” or “You’re making me scream!!” We want to avoid telling our kids that our dysregulation is their fault - this only further cements their fear that they are “bad” inside and that their feelings don’t only overwhelm them but overwhelm others. 



5. Repair. These moments are tough. Often the best we can do is get through them as best as possible and hold ourselves responsible for a good repair after. A repair can sound like this, when both you and your child are calm: “I know we had some rough moments earlier. Here’s what I know.&nbsp; I love you. You’re a good kid. I’ll always see that in you and believe that about you. I always want you in this family, you’re so important.” Or, a repair can be more specific: “I had a hard time staying calm when you were upset. I am working on my ability to do that - for you and for me.&nbsp; It’s not your fault when I yell. It’s never ever your fault. I love you.”



DFKs are amazing kids and they’re tricky. They bring up so much in us and they truly require us to work on our own personal emotion regulation skills so we can show up in a regulated grounded way when they are at their most dysregulated and escalated. It’s ok if all of this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too. This is why we are all here together, working, learning, reflecting, trying new things. Take a moment, give yourself credit for being here and considering new ideas.

Staying Regulated When Your DFK is Dysregulated

If you have a child who feels things more intensely, more frequently, and for longer periods of time than other kids... it’s not your fault. Or theirs. Sometimes we get a child who is a “deep feeler” of the world, who reacts strongly and needs more time to figure out how to manage all the sensations that cycle through their body.



Much of what informs the Good Inside approach to helping families with deeply feeling kids comes from the work I’ve done with adults in my private practice who were, themselves, deeply feeling children. I’ve learned so much from these adults as we’ve worked together.



Deeply feeling kids feel things so intensely and get dysregulated so often that they often receive frustration (“I can’t deal with this!”), anger (“You ruin everything!”), and invalidation (“You always over-react!”). Over time, these kids conclude: My feelings push people away. I cannot be understood.



Fast-forward into adulthood. These adults react to themselves the way people reacted to them as children: They’re filled with self-doubt, self-criticism, and insecurity. Dysregulation often cycles into more dysregulation because their dysregulation was never met with compassion, curiosity, or repair.



I know that we all want to wire our kids with very different self-beliefs: “I am loveable, I am good, my feelings help me understand myself and connect to others.” And yet, if you have a deeply feeling child (and I do!), you know how hard it is (it’s hard for me too!) to parent with validation, empathy, and boundaries. Parents of deeply feeling kids need some sign that says “All your hard work with your child will pay off!”



So, here you go. Imagine that 20 years from now, your deeply feeling child will write you this thank you note. Maybe even print out these words and hang them somewhere private for only you to see to give you the fortitude to continue connecting to a child who seems to pull for so much rejection. I know that, for me, the idea that I’ll one day receive a note like this (or at least see each “thank you” point in action) helps me stay the course on those really tough days.



Dear Mom/Dad,



This thank you note is decades overdue.



Thank you for trying to stay calm when I couldn't. You taught me that my feelings aren't bad or scary after all, that they are manageable and good. Now, as an adult, I'm able to find calm in the midst of a storm, at least some of the time.



Thank you for attempting to understand me. Now, as an adult, I approach myself with curiosity, not self-blame.



Thank you for teaching me that my feelings are important and real, even if they don't appear "proportionate" to a situation. This is perhaps the greatest gift you've given me.&nbsp; Now, as an adult, I am self-confident because I feel at home in my body.



Thank you for emphasizing process over product, for focusing on my efforts and not my results. Now, as an adult, I'm able to learn from mistakes and embrace not-knowing moments.



Thank you for teaching me that after rupture, comes repair. Now, as an adult, I know how to reconnect with loved ones through reflection, openness, and light-heartedness. This has made all the difference in forming healthy lasting bonds.



I know I was a deeply feeling child who never made it easy. You worked very hard, so that life would feel a bit easier for me as I got older. And now, it does. I can handle tough moments when they come, I have self-compassion, I believe in myself, and I have a great model for loving relationships.



Thank you for the tiresome days and nights, for leading with connection and not judgment, for your patience with my development, and for always believing that I was a good kid having a hard time. I am eternally grateful.



Love,



Me

Read This “Thank You” Note from Your Deeply Feeling Kid

If your child screams "Stop it!" when you talk about emotions… you're not doing it wrong.



If your child becomes enraged when you name a feeling she's having... you're not doing it wrong.



You’ll often hear this idea about parenting: When kids are struggling, talk about their feelings and name the emotion, because this helps a child feel seen and calm down. And this is true for many children.



But for other children, this strategy only makes things worse. Naming a feeling—trying to connect to an underlying emotion—can actually ESCALATE other kids. Parents of these kids often wonder, "What's wrong with me?" or "What's wrong with my kid?"



There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with your child. These kids just need something different.



These kids do feel seen when you name their feelings... but this experience of feeling seen is too intense. The very experiences that lead to calming in some kids lead to intensity in others. Some children feel things so deeply that the gap between their feelings and their ability to regulate feels insurmountable. They struggle to cross this gap because their big feelings and their shame around needing help with those big feelings sit uncomfortably close, so they never experience one without the other.&nbsp;



I call these kids "Deeply Feeling Kids." There are many other names out there for kids like this: explosive, difficult, highly sensitive, reactive. Few of these labels promote understanding and positive change.&nbsp;



The understanding starts here: These kids reject typical feelings-first approaches. They need comfort and soothing like any other child, but they can only take in help that's subtle and indirect—strategies that kind of "sneak in the back door" to their emotional needs, rather than barge through the front door.



I have a kid like this. I work with many families with kids like this. And I work with adults who were these kids—giving me intimate knowledge into what they needed and never received. I love these kids and I'm passionate about helping their parents, as I know from experience that parenting these kids... is no joke.



If this is striking a chord with you, check out some more of the strategies and workshops on this topic. Parents continue to tell me that our approach to “deeply feeling kids” has single-handedly helped them understand and feel hopeful about their child in a way no other book or parent coaching session ever has.

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