Handling Disappointment

I love the feeling of pouring my heart and soul into something and watching what comes of it. Productive bursts of creative energy, when they come, are one of the most incredible natural highs in the world. When the words come pouring out of my fingers onto the screen; when the design for my yard pulls together so nicely; when my adoration for a particular song shows in my voice at karaoke.

But what happens after that? Like, your flower garden looks incredible but nobody remarks on it when they come to visit. Or you NAILED that song at karaoke and nobody clapped at all, not even your best friend because she was in the bathroom? Or - and this, of course, is my nightmare - what if you write what you think are excellent books, have them illustrated by some extremely talented people, spend countless hours creating social media posts, travel and set up and talk to passers-by and tear down at author meet-and-greets and local festivals and markets and all for naught?

What if, in the end, no one really cares that much?

How do you handle disappointment?

I'll tell you what I can't stand in cases like this: I don't want my disappointment minimized or brushed over. I don't want people telling me 'things will get better' or to 'keep working hard' or 'God has a plan' or 'I know, it sucks' or 'you have to stay positive' or any of those trite aphorisms to placate me. I also don't want a load of advice: 'you know, what you SHOULD do is...' or 'when this happened to me, I...'

The harsh truth is, the only thing I want sometimes is to wallow. That's right. I want to sit in my disappointment, roll around for a bit, maybe take a nap, possibly cuss a few times, have someone hug me and hold me and shut up while they do it, and then bring me ice cream. Then, and only then, will I be ready to start looking forward. I need my feelings to be validated before I can even think about moving. Because disappointment is REAL. It's not imaginary. It's a loss that you have to grieve before you can even think about getting back up and walking again.

The same is true for children. Whatever their disappointment happens to be - a friend was supposed to spend the night and had to cancel, or their trampoline broke in the storm, or they didn't get into the talent show after they auditioned - it's REAL. It needs to be acknowledged, validated, and not minimized in any way. We tend to want to solve problems for kids but sometimes there are no solutions. We tend to want to make them happy, but humans are not genuinely happy all the time and we need to teach them that that's okay. We are allowed - even encouraged - to grieve a disappointment! It would be unhealthy to just shove everything under the rug and move forward every single time. We'd never learn coping skills, we'd never learn the difference between significant and insignificant events. Only after having their feelings validated are children (and humans in general) able to open themselves up to learn something new.

Sometimes - most times, if I'm being honest - I have no idea what to do next. Just like now - you're reading this (yay!) but how do I get three of your friends to read it and to buy a book? I can keep begging on social media, I can buy ads on Amazon which get buried in all the other ads that the other people bought on Amazon, I can wallow a little more... and I can keep plugging away. Try something new here and there, invest what I can when I can, have more successes and more setbacks. The ol' ebb and flow, right? (The AI that I didn't ask for keeps suggesting I write about ebb and flow, so maybe this will shut it up?)

So, anyway. If you see me, please hug me tightly. I don't need or want* anything else**. Soon after, I believe, I'll be able to open myself up to learn something new. Just not quite yet.

And that's okay.

-Stephanie

*Maybe you could buy me some ice cream.

**Definitely, though, you could buy a book!