Let’s Talk About Needs, Baby
“Let's tell it how it is and how it could be/
how it was, and of course, how it should be”-Salt-N-Pepa
Recently, I was sitting on a dear friend’s porch together with her and her six-year-old child, enjoying snacks and dusky evening light. It was a quiet, peaceful affair until the neighbors, jovial young adults, came home in their intramural sports t-shirts along with the rest of what appeared to be the entire extended league. Slowly, a party began to build — not a raging party but a developing soiree. More people joined, and the noise began to swell little by little. I watched the six-year-old react with interest. First, he looked nervously toward the neighboring porch, assessing the situation. Then, he started shooting some dowel-rods from his homemade bow and arrow set, warning-style, toward their front lawn, away from people but in the general vicinity (for which he received some redirection and correction, respectfully, from his mother). Finally, he came over to where his mother and I sat, got on her lap and said: “There is a party happening, and I am going to have a hard time sleeping tonight.” His mom looked at him, nodded her head, and asked: “What do you think you need to sleep well tonight anyway and how can I help?” He looked thoughtful for a little bit and then offered a few ideas: “I could sleep in your room where it’s quieter. I could turn on my noise machine. We can read some stories first to relax.” “Perfect,” my friend said, “those are all great ideas. Let’s do all three of those things and start with some story-reading in about 30 minutes.” Clearly more relaxed and comfortable after this brief conversation, the six-year-old went back to bow and arrow practice on his lawn, shooting away from the offending neighbors’ home.
It looked so simple. And yet, watching that conversation, I found myself impressed by the complexity and depth of what was actually happening: 1. the child became stressed (anxiety building in the body and the mind, tensing up, feeling uncomfortable); 2. he then identified the source of his stress (I’m uncomfortable with this growing noise, and I am worried that I won’t be able to fall asleep); 3. he communicated his stress indirectly to the neighbors (shooting his bow and arrow warning shots); 4. he communicated his stress directly to his mother (verbally stating his concerns); 5. he was heard and respected by his mother who validated his feelings and asked what he needed to feel more comfortable (keeping the focus on what can be controlled, in other words what he/they could do rather than putting all the responsibility on the neighbors); 6. he generated some solutions based on things that were in his control; 7. his mother voiced her support and how she would help put his plan into action.
This is a whole lot of emotional regulation packed into a less-than-one-minute conversation, and I found myself in awe, recognizing just how many of us grow up to be adults without fully understanding how to identify our own needs, verbalize them, identify where we can self-regulate, and identify where we can ask for support (also known as co-regulation).
How skilled are we, as adults, at identifying and communicating our own needs? The answer for many of us is: not great. A lot of the work I have done in my own therapy and in support of my clients working on their own journeys is specifically related to the sticky subject of needs — identifying them, validating them, taking responsibility for them, and asking for support in meeting them. Why is this so complicated? There are entire books to be read and written about the history of parenting practices over generations, the developing understanding that children are not “blank slates” but autonomous human beings with their own internal experience, morality related to selflessness/selfishness, and on and on. For a variety of reasons, many, if not most of us, struggle to comfortably talk about needs. It’s a skill we need to teach ourselves as adults, and the good news is that it is an achievable goal.
What can we learn from our self-aware and well-supported six-year-old? An awful lot. Let’s run through the need-steps from his narrative one more time, taking the lessons from each of the steps to help us navigate and better communicate our own needs as they arise.
Identify the need. I have had to do a lot of my own therapy work around even recognizing a need as a need and not a want. I’ve internalized a lot of beliefs around needs being selfish, about taking care of others before myself, and about curating feelings to make other people more comfortable. If you feel that you have clear access to information about your needs, that is fantastic and I salute you! If you struggle at times, take information from your body. I often realize a need is not being met when I feel growing anxiety, tenseness, or have atypical symptoms for me, like insomnia or snapping at people. Recognize your own body cues and learn to ask yourself: what am I not getting or giving myself right now?
Recognize your habitual ways of reacting to needs. Many of us have learned to try to meet our needs in roundabout or passive ways so that we don’t address them directly. The six-year-old shot some warning shots toward the party, but this was not the best way to ensure himself a good nights’ sleep. I know that I have a pattern of trying to go overboard meeting other people’s needs, trying to set an example, and then have been disappointed when that behavior is not returned. Some people exhibit passive-aggressive behaviors or expect other people to read their minds or anticipate their needs. Many of our habitual patterns are not necessarily destructive but tend to be less effective than we might want.
Identify at least one or two interventions that you can control: Once a need has been identified, the challenge is often determining what we can do ourselves (rather than expecting other people to change their behaviors or take charge of our feelings). Asking for support from others is one thing that is under our control — we just then must accept that others’ responses to our requests are not in our control. Our six-year-old teacher has practiced answering this question before and had several potential supports on hand. Think about what tends to soothe and support you and remind yourself of these resources when you start to feel activated.
Get comfortable with the language of needs. Don’t even get me started on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and the idea that emotional needs are less important than physical needs. Start to use language — even in your own internal dialogue at first — that validates the importance of emotional support, love, respect, and dignity as primary and not an afterthought. There is good power in revising language that diminishes our own needs. Consider the difference between the following thoughts: “I wish she wouldn’t talk down to me like that” versus “I have a right to be spoken to as an adult.” Get familiar with the ways that you value or diminish your needs and give yourself permission to fully advocate for your own well-being.
Until next time, Fellow Humans, I wish you all the self-awareness and self-advocating of my favorite six-year-old, and may all your needs be met.
