Emotion Regulation and a Personal Reminder
I think this will be my last Helene-focused blog for a bit. After today, I plan to return to my regular monthly posting schedule. But before I do, I want to reflect on something that’s been on my mind in the last week: emotion regulation.
As I think about the trauma, the sadness, and processing, it has led me to think a lot about how we manage emotions— especially when life throws unexpected changes our way. My daughter had a tough time adjusting to school this year. She’s shy, and making connections can be hard for her. So, when she made a close friend early in the school year, I was overjoyed. This peer helped her feel supported and safe in a new environment, and together, they played, laughed, and formed a sweet bond.
But then, because of Helene’s impact, this friend had to move, and my daughter would no longer see her at school. When I found out, I was devastated. Devastated. I did everything I could to soften the news—sugar-coating it, trying to protect her from the inevitable sadness.
On her first day back without her friend, I was worried and envisioning the worst.
After school, I nervously checked in with my daughter. To my surprise, she told me she had drawn a picture for her friend and placed it in her folder. She talked about how sad she was that her friend had left, but then, she quickly shifted to telling me about other kids she played with that day.
As a therapist who primarily uses DBT, this moment hit me hard. Facepalm.
I’ve led countless groups on emotion regulation, where I often focus on normalizing uncomfortable emotions and reminding people that emotions serve a purpose. Yet here I was, trying to protect my daughter from feeling the very emotion that was natural and unavoidable.
In DBT, we teach that emotions—whether joy or sadness—are there for a reason. My daughter’s sadness was 1) appropriate and 2) necessary. No amount of shielding could prevent that. And, when reframing the situation, I saw that her sadness was also a beautiful reminder of the sweet friendship she had experienced. While it may be different now, she will have this connection in some form or fashion….and, she has learned some skills to use in future friendships and connections.
This situation taught me (again!) that it’s not about avoiding or controlling our emotions. Instead, it’s about allowing ourselves to feel them, to move through them, and to know that we can cope with whatever comes our way. My daughter’s way of processing the loss—by acknowledging her sadness and then turning to new opportunities for connection—reminded me of the very skills I aim to teach others.
So, as I close this chapter and shift back to my usual blog rhythm, I carry this personal lesson forward: emotions, even the tough ones, are not meant to be avoided. They are meant to be experienced and honored.
