Interesting...

“Interesting” …that one word has changed how I communicate with my son. I remember sitting in therapy with this lovely young family therapist. Several times within the session, I would hear her use the word. I admit I got a little sidetracked whenever she would say it because I wanted to know what she thought. Was it interesting as in “Oh, wow, that is fascinating!” or was it interesting as in “I see?” I would then spend the next few moments during our session, trying to figure out what she heard immediately prior. Why did it elicit such a response, and how would I have responded? Some of the facts she deemed so ”interesting,” to me did not warrant such an interjection. Was it a judgment?

After a while, I had more staying power in the sessions, and after hearing her use the word, I could now take notice of it and not have it hijack my thoughts. I was learning DBT Mindfulness skills, and that was what helped me focus. However, I still noticed that word when she said it, and my ears perked up each time.

My son gets very excited about a random topic that piques his interest. Then it is verbal diarrhea for the next chunk of my day as he follows me around the house and spills out every fact about the topic. It can go on for hours. I will not lie; a detailed play by play of a random YouTube video he watched does not capture my interest as it does his. I drift off in the middle of his excitement. He has caught me several times thinking about something else altogether and not following along as he tells his story.

When I am reviewing in my head the items to add to my grocery list, trying to remember if I watered the plants today, wondering what time do I need to get ready to go out, or questioning if I fed the dogs this morning, he can see I am not interested and am pretending to listen to him. He stops the sharing. He feels rejected by me and walks away with a quick, “Never mind, Mom.”

When my son returned home from the program, I knew there was work we needed to do regarding our communication. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings by not paying attention to what was important to him, and I never wished to invalidate. Promising myself that I would actively listen to his stories, I tried to focus by painting a mental picture of what he described, even though they are incredibly detailed stories. When I have nothing to say, but I see his enthusiasm after he tells me something, I will interject with, “interesting.”

At first, I used the word as a filler, so he would know I was listening, but he didn’t have to know that I didn’t care about the story. With one word, he heard that I cared about him. As I improved my active listening skills, I found some of his analytical thoughts about the stories interesting! I made sure those “interesting” comments I made sounded like I wanted to know more, that what he was telling me was impressive.

Next, after painting pictures in my head, and interjections, I tried asking questions. Sometimes these questions were restating a fact and checking what I heard. A lot of them were rhetorical or so obvious that anyone would know the answers. What I noticed was that my son was happy to be with me, he was having a conversation with me on his terms, and I was engaged. What I also noticed was that if I actively listened to these stories, they were interesting. I discovered how my son sees the world and, as a bonus, our broken communication is getting better. His stories that were once so frustrating to sit through are now an essential part of our day.