Do you have something up your sleeve? Anything you would really rather not tell anyone?

I have found, in my own experience and in my work as a therapist, that if a secret affects your children, as much as you would like to tell them at someone’s end, those children have a right to know. The question is how best to talk to them about some of the most painful issues that come up: job loss, divorce, serious illness.

And the obligation to tell your children about the secrets that affect them does not mean that you can use the children to unload, as I had a client who told her daughter about the matter of her husband, that is, the father of the child, to express their own pain and discomfort. . That will only do damage; your son is not your father-confessor.

But the same reason we use now to excuse not telling children (‘it will only hurt/scare the child’) was used on my parents’ day to excuse not sharing information “with the nicer ones” that we would consider scandalous not to share. with them. children of today.

It is true that some of these topics are terribly scary. Who wants their son to think that her father could go under financially, could leave the other father of the child, or, above all, could die and leave him? But the secrecy surrounding these topics only adds to the child’s sense of discomfort and fear, and as I’ve pointed out, this information should, by all rights, come from you.

I recommend that you generally broach the subject with honest but simple information and, unless you must continue, reveal more gradually, thus gradually unlocking the secret. And you’ll know how much and when to share by following your child’s example. You can wait for your child to ask before revealing all the gory details; that’s how he knows when the time is right.

I saw a couple in therapy debating how to tell their young children about their upcoming divorce. They decided on Sunday breakfast, and with each parent and each of the two children in their usual seats, with cereal served, Dad simply said, “Your mother and I are splitting up.” The daughter, the oldest, more sensitive and a little sticky, burst into tears and climbed into her father’s lap. The four-year-old was silent as he chewed on his soggy flakes, then asked, “Daddy?”

“Yes, son,” Dad replied, gently and encouragingly.

“Could you pass me the Raisin Bran?”

With a deeper interest in getting his sugared raisins than in perpetuating the conversation, let’s just say this guy wasn’t ready for a detailed explanation of who would live where, what kind of guys Mom was interested in dating, or when Dad would go. bribing him with Chuck E. Cheese to cooperate ‘like he did at mom’s house’.

Parents usually know in advance that children will have different reactions to big news, and they know very well who will respond ‘fine’, who will act like a jerk, and who will break down. So the parents will tell the child who will handle it better or the older child or children, and then keep the secret from the younger or more emotionally vulnerable. But that’s just creating an unhealthy triangle. It is in a similar sense to use a secret to bump into a third (and fourth and fifth, etc.) person when the mother tells her daughter about her father’s affair.

And here’s a tough question: When you tell your kids your bad news, don’t make promises you can’t keep just to comfort them. I saw a woman who had crushing headaches, really debilitating. No medicine touched them, and she curled up in agony when they hit, even in her car. Her husband was petrified as Leanne searched for an answer to her misery, but the parents did their best to keep the pain, as well as the dates of the tests, the doctor’s appointments, the treatments, the entire thirty feet, hidden from the parents. children, two sons. , 12 and 11. Needless to say, this was anything short of a success, because when pain and illness rule a home, it really isn’t a secret, no matter what isn’t said.

The answer to the headaches was some of the worst possible news: Leanne had lung cancer, and the cancer had metastasized to her brain. It was time to tell the children that Leanne was truly sick. The eldest son, Brian, was due to have his bar mitzvah in September, and Leanne, always brave and optimistic, pushed for her not to tell the boy until six months later, when the special day was over. Her husband, George, much more realistic, insisted that the time had come.

Leanne wanted to start treatment first, so it wasn’t until the end of April that Leanne and George sat the two boys down and put into words the formless fear and grief that pervaded the house, despite the parents’ reassurance. Always sensitive and close to their mother, both boys burst into tears when Leanne shared the news, and Leanne and George were not far behind. Leanne cradled her sons as she had when they were babies, then held Brian’s face close to hers, looked him straight in the eyes, and said, “Brian, I promise you, with all the struggle I have inside me, I will make it.” I will do”. be there for your bar mitzvah.

In a coma in early July, Leanne passed away on August 1, 6 weeks before the day she had sworn Brian she would be there.

Tell your children what they need to know. Yes, tell him. And then tell them you’ll do your best, tell them you’ll do your best, but don’t promise your children something that she can’t deliver.