Part 4 of 19 in How to Coach Your Child: A Handbook for Indian Parents← Part 3Part 5 →
I’ve been thinking about Myra, a six-year-old I watched at a wedding in Jaipur. She clung to her father like a lifeline, refusing to join the other children at their table. Her aunt, with the best of intentions, dismissed her reluctance as mere drama. “Come, beta, you love your cousins,” she said brightly. But Myra’s father, caught in the crossfire of social expectation and paternal instinct, peeled her hands off his kurta with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. The ensuing scene wasn’t a display of defiance from a spoiled child but rather an unfiltered report of Myra’s inner world—one of overwhelm and discomfort.
This incident brought me back to the idea that feelings are not orders. Myra wasn’t demanding the wedding be cancelled; she was expressing her current state of emotional turmoil. Yet, in our culture, especially within Indian homes, we often confuse the acknowledgment of feelings with the enforcement of actions those feelings might suggest. We have a habit of correcting the report. “You are not cold.” “You don’t hate your brother.” “You love Dadi, don’t say that.” Such responses are meant as comfort but convey a different message: your internal experiences are unreliable or inappropriate.
I see parallels in my work as an IVF specialist and as an angel investor. In both fields, the narratives people carry about their feelings can significantly affect their actions and decisions. For instance, a patient might feel anxious about the outcome of a fertility treatment. The feeling is real and warrants acknowledgment, but it doesn’t rule the actual medical process. Similarly, a startup founder might feel overwhelmed by the challenges of scaling a business, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t pursue growth.
Acknowledging feelings without letting them dictate actions is a nuanced skill. It’s a bit like walking a tightrope where balance is key. Ginott, a psychologist who understood the impact of emotional acknowledgment, warned against denying what a child feels. It’s a warning that resonates deeply in a culture that values a calm face as a sign of good manners. A child who hears “nothing happened” after a public scolding doesn’t become resilient; he becomes adept at editing his own face. By thirteen, he can sit through a family lunch, feeling emotions he can’t name. Parents then wonder why he doesn’t talk.
In investing, I’ve learned that acknowledging a founder’s fears and concerns can lead to more honest conversations and better decisions. It’s not about indulging every doubt but understanding that these feelings are part of the journey. In medicine, the same principle applies. Patients need to feel seen and heard, not dismissed or told their concerns are baseless. This doesn’t mean that every anxious thought dictates treatment but that the emotional landscape is part of the therapeutic process.
Naming a feeling is not the same as agreeing with the action it might suggest. Saying “You are jealous of the new baby” doesn’t mean condoning negative behavior towards the sibling. Recognizing “You hate tuition today” doesn’t mean cancelling classes at every whim. The parent who fears naming the feeling often ends up trapped, as unacknowledged emotions manifest in other ways—illness, sulking, or dramatic outbursts.
In the startup world, this translates to acknowledging when a founder is frustrated with slow progress. Saying “I see you’re frustrated” doesn’t mean abandoning the strategic plan. It means creating a space where those feelings can be discussed and addressed, rather than buried and allowed to fester in counterproductive ways.
Similarly, in the IVF clinic, acknowledging a patient’s fear of a procedure doesn’t mean the procedure is unnecessary. It means taking a moment to address the fear, explain the process, and reassure them, thus allowing the patient to move forward with confidence.
The hardest emotions to address are those directed at us. When a child says “I hate you,” it feels personal. Yet, it’s often a clumsy expression of something less dramatic, like “I’m angry you won’t let me go out.” The useful response is calm acknowledgment, not a demand for retraction. “You are very angry with me. I can hear that. I still will not let you go alone to the shop.”
In business, this is akin to receiving harsh feedback from a founder or team member. The initial sting can be hard to swallow, but these moments are opportunities for growth, not just for the individual but for the business overall. In both personal and professional settings, the goal is to facilitate repair and understanding, not to demand instant apologies or denial of the initial feeling.
Feelings are not orders, but they are invaluable reports from our internal landscape. They inform, but they should not dictate. As we navigate various roles—be it a parent, doctor, or investor—we must learn to distinguish between the two. This isn’t just about being nice; it’s about being effective, understanding, and ultimately, wise. The next time you hear a child say “I’m scared,” or a founder say “I’m worried about this decision,” consider it an invitation to explore deeper rather than an instruction to change course immediately.
The real challenge, and perhaps the opportunity, is to teach ourselves and those around us that while feelings are valid and important, they are not the sole compass by which we navigate life. We must balance them with reason, experience, and, sometimes, a good dose of patience. By doing so, we not only honor our emotional truths but also make wiser choices, both in our personal lives and our professional endeavors.
In conclusion, the art of acknowledging feelings without letting them rule us is an essential skill across all domains of life. It requires patience, empathy, and a willingness to engage with the uncomfortable. But it’s a skill worth cultivating because it leads to deeper connections, better decisions, and ultimately, a more fulfilling life. As we continue to learn and grow, let’s remember that feelings, while powerful, are not orders—they are guideposts on the journey.