We Often Ask the Wrong Question
What are children really experiencing when parents separate? A family psychotherapist explores belonging, attachment and why adults often ask the wrong questions during divorce and separation. For much of my professional life I believed I was helping families understand conflict. Over time I realised something different was happening.
The children who walked through my consulting room were rarely trying to help me understand conflict at all. They were trying to help me understand relationships.
Adults usually arrive carrying explanations. They tell me what happened. They explain who left, who stayed, who shouted, who lied, who disappointed whom, and why they believe things unfolded as they did. Their stories are often detailed, heartfelt and deeply painful.
Children seldom begin there. They tell me about the drive to school. They tell me where the dog sleeps. They tell me about football on Saturday morning, a birthday party they are looking forward to, or the teddy they forgot to bring. Only gradually, when they begin to feel safe, do they reveal what they are really carrying. And what they are carrying is almost never what adults imagine. It is not usually evidence. It is not argument. It is not blame. It is relationship.
After many years listening to children, I have become convinced that adults and children experience family separation through entirely different lenses. Adults often organise themselves around conflict. Children organise themselves around belonging. That difference changes everything.
Children Do Not Experience Divorce. They Experience Relationships.
When adults separate, conversations naturally become organised around decisions. Where will the children live? How often will they see each parent? Who will collect them from school? What happens at Christmas? What will the court decide? These are necessary questions. But they are rarely the questions occupying the mind of an eight year old.
Children are trying to answer something far more fundamental. “Where do I belong now?” “Is my family still my family?” “Can I still love everyone I love?” “Will somebody be hurt if I smile after spending time with Mum?” “Does Dad become sad when I say I miss Mum?” These questions are rarely spoken aloud.
Children often lack the language to express them. Instead, they communicate through behaviour. Some become quieter. Some become louder. Some begin worrying excessively. Others appear remarkably mature. Many become expert observers of the emotional climate around them.
Parents sometimes describe these children as “very resilient.” I have learned to be cautious whenever I hear that word. Children who appear extraordinarily resilient are sometimes carrying extraordinary emotional responsibility. They have learned to monitor the adults around them. They know which conversations create tension. They know when silence feels safer than honesty. They know which parent needs reassurance. They become remarkably skilled at managing other people’s emotions. It is an impressive adaptation. It is also a burden no child should have to carry.
A Child Once Asked Me a Question She Never Actually Spoke
Years ago, a little girl came to see me. She wore a bright turquoise dress with polished shoes and carried a tiny handbag as though she were determined to appear older than she really was. She smiled politely. She spoke kindly. She answered every question thoughtfully.
If someone had watched only the first few minutes of our conversation, they might have concluded that she was coping remarkably well. Eventually she began talking about her parents. She loved her mother. She loved her father. There was no hesitation when she said either sentence.
Then she became very quiet. Her eyes filled with tears. Finally she whispered something that has remained with me ever since. “They can’t split me in the middle.” A few moments later she apologised. Not because she had done something wrong. Not because she had been rude. Not because she had broken a rule. She apologised because she believed that somehow she had become the problem.
That conversation changed something in me. Until then I had thought I was working mainly with family conflict. That day I realised I was working with something much deeper. I was working with belonging.
If your family is navigating separation and you want to better understand what your child may be experiencing, professional support can help create space for every family member’s voice to be heard without asking children to carry the emotional weight of adult conflict brian@changes.ie