I never cease to be amazed

at the power that parents have over their children.

I do not mean power in the

sense that they are stronger than them; neither do I mean

power in the sense that they can make them do things. I'm

talking about the kind of power that parents have even

when they do not know they have it. This power causes

even adult children, long after their parents have died,

to wish that their parents could see some accomplishment.

This is long-lasting power.

I am coming to believe that

one of our natural drives is to seek approval from our

parents. It starts when children are just toddlers. They

bring us pictures, show us things they have constructed,

and tell us of their accomplishments. They seek not so

much for us to see what they did, but that they want us

to be proud of what they did. Even into our later years,

we are still thinking, often unconsciously, about what

our parents think of us.

I have a difficult time

convincing my adult clients of this truth. They often

come from very dysfunctional homes. Their fathers and/or

mothers were cruel people who never expressed love,

interest or concern in these clients during their

respective childhoods. Therefore, these clients are

resentful and angry.

They try to tell me that

they don't care what their parents think. But if they

don't care, then why are they spending so much energy

thinking about it? They do care. Deep down, what they

want to hear from their parents is: "I love

you" or "I'm proud of you."

Most of them, though, won't

ever hear these words. They deal with that fact by

pretending it does not matter. Growth requires that they

admit this desire and accept the unfairness and pain of

that truth.

The application of this

knowledge requires that parents consciously work to

display their love and interest in their children. When

my children tell me about something they have done, I not

only listen to the details of the event, but I try to

determine what it is they want from me. Most often, they

want to hear me tell them I'm proud or that they have

done something good.

Therefore, I may say

something like, "I am so pleased with your grades

because I know you worked hard. I am very proud of you

for the work you have invested." Other times, I

might simply say, "I really like the picture you

have drawn, but I want you to know that I would love you

even if you couldn't draw at all."

I use this process in one

form or another as a motivator for my clients, both

children and adults. It also works as a motivator for

some of my college students. Odd as it may sound, I know

that some of these people accept praise from me as a

substitute for the encouragement they never received from

their parents.

I know it is possible that

at some point in their lives my children may question my

love for them. When they are 50 years old they may wonder

if I was proud of them, but I feel confident that I will

not have to look back and wonder if I told them enough.

Of course, I don't want my words to be hollow because

they are too frequent, but reassurance is usually a good

thing.

My children will believe

because they have heard it five million times from me and

they will have seen my love for them in my behavior.