Don't Go Into the Tunnel: The Practice of Loving Detachment

I recently spoke with my friend Karen about navigating some of the more tumultuous chapters of parenting. She responded with a few simple words of wisdom from her mom who raised eight children: When they go into the tunnel, don’t go with them.

Now in her 90’s, Karen’s mom saw her children through a myriad of difficulties over the years, aka “the tunnel”. She remained intent on not being pulled in or trying to fix, solve, alleviate, or, even more so, get lost in the darkness with them. Karen referred to this as “loving detachment”; the practice of finding some balance between staying connected and yet not allowing their pain or struggle to completely engulf us.

This approach struck me as wise and decidedly un-helicopter-like. It challenges us to be responsible for our own well-being, independently of what our children might be experiencing.

But sometimes we have less choice about entering the tunnel, depending upon the depth of our child’s despair or the complexity of what they are facing. If they are experiencing suicidal ideation or struggling with an addiction, there is no doubt we’re stepping in. Right? Heck, we’re likely to high tail it into the tunnel with every tool we can possibly find on hand. No doubt there would be sleepless nights and a sense of things no longer being right in the world.

But how far can you go before you, too, are lost in the tunnel of darkness and despair?

I wish I had a simple answer to that question. What I do know is that we cannot drag our children out, no matter how much our hurting hearts may desire. The more we can remain in the light ourselves, the more helpful we can be. Based on the research of positive psychology, here are five key strategies to try:

1. Revisit hope regularly.

Hopelessness can obscure our ability to see solutions. We can become convinced of the direness of the situation and unable to see the way forward. Some philosophies suggest that we abandon hope to find full acceptance of what is; however, science suggests that hope is the antidote to despair. Hope shows us where the light is. According to hope theory, we cultivate hope by focusing on pathways (finding new avenues for support or towards a particular outcome) and agency (believing in our ability to influence or instigate change). Techniques such as journaling, coaching, or counseling can help build this hope. Even small, incremental hopes can provide the motivation to keep moving forward.

2. Highlight small successes.

It’s helpful to recognize and affirm your teen or young adult’s small steps and achievements. This practice helps build their self-efficacy and demonstrates that they are making progress, even if it feels minimal. This may be especially hard if they are not engaging in help or recovery, but there are likely other areas in their life where you notice transferable skills or strengths. For example, “I’ve noticed that you are accepting comfort more” or “I see how resourceful you can be…” etc. We can shine the light on areas of strength and resilience, even from afar.

3. End statements with “right now.”

My kid is suffering right now. I feel hopeless right now. She feels stuck right now. There are other variations such as “in this moment” or “up until now.” This is a small tweak that can help us remain steadier when we’re frightened or overwhelmed. The idea is to interrupt common thinking traps, such as catastrophizing and helplessness. While we may feel the need to amp up the warning sirens to protect our child, overly generalized statements tend to bring us back to a place of hopelessness or panic; they can reinforce the need to rush in and take over. In some cases, that might be appropriate, but for the vast majority, maintaining a balanced perspective will allow us to choose our actions more wisely.

4. Show love.

While this may seemingly go without saying, it deserves its own place here. Love is inherent to us as parents, even if we may experience anger, frustration, sadness, disappointment, or another strong emotion around our child’s behaviors or choices. As a positive emotion, love has great social, psychological, and physiological benefits. Small but consistent exchanges of love can change how we act or process our experiences. This is especially important when our child is frequently hearing or perceiving our worry, fear, or concern. We can set our intention to communicate love as frequently as possible as a way of maintaining connection. It can be an “I love you,” a “being with you makes me happy,” a sweet note, or a loving touch, if they’re ok with it. There is nothing quite like knowing that you are loved, exactly as you are, especially when the world feels cruel or hard. And that you have a parent in your corner.

5. Maintain a wider perspective.

Acknowledge that suffering is a universal experience and not a reflection of personal failure. Understanding the broader context of human resilience can provide strength and perspective. Too often we see the struggles of our child as a reflection of our mistakes or shortcomings. This can exacerbate our tendency to try to fix, overcompensate, or spend too much energy on the past. Pain is part of life and we often have far less control as parents than we’d like to believe. Perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give our children is to show them what it looks like to hold pain and suffering side-by-side with love, awe, or gratitude. Struggle, pain, despair, and grief are not indicators of failure in life. This wider lens can help you stay grounded and maintain compassion for both you and your child.

Navigating the darkness alongside our children is a delicate balance. While we may not be able to rescue them from pain or suffering, maintaining our own well-being allows us to be a steady source of support. We can establish our own boundaries, tend to our feelings, take breaks, and remember that we cannot fix or save our child, or anyone else for that matter. In many ways, loving detachment means to love more and worry less; to spend less energy trying to fix and figure things out; to hold whatever is here, now. In doing so, we offer both ourselves and our children a lifeline of hope and resilience.