Before helping, ask yourself why you’re doing it

“My son left his homework on the counter (again), and I knew he’d be devastated when his rebbi asked for it. Despite my busy morning schedule, I hopped in the car and drove across the city to bring it to him. I felt like such a good mommy. I hope he appreciates everything I do for him.”

A six-year-old has no concept of his mother’s day or life and therefore, while he may be happy his homework has magically turned up, he can’t appreciate what went into getting it there. What he can appreciate is that even when he neglects his responsibilities, things always work out for him.

Enabling Dysfunction

“My husband has ADHD and constantly misplaces his car keys. Then he asks me for mine. But when I lend them to him, he loses them as well! Often, I don’t realize until it’s time to leave for work that my keys aren’t in their place. I’ll ask him where he put them, but he never remembers, and then I’m thrown into a panic.

“I know this sounds terrible, because Chaim’s forgetfulness isn’t his fault, but I decided last month that I could no longer give him my car keys.

“But then something amazing happened: After having to pay for a ride a few times, he figured out a system to remember his keys!”

Unhelpful Helpfulness

There are many ways that we accidentally enable, encourage, and maintain dysfunction in our nearest and dearest. We do it out of love.

“We allow our ten-year-old to sleep in our room because she’s very anxious and simply can’t fall asleep in her own bed. She doesn’t even feel  secure with a sibling in the room; it’s us she wants.”

“My 16-year-old makes it so unpleasant to ask her for help that I’ve just stopped doing it. I can’t argue with her all the time. It’s exhausting.”

“My wife can’t get up in the morning. She needs 12 hours of solid sleep or she can’t function. So I get everyone up and ready for school and do the whole morning routine myself.”

“My husband has no patience for the kids. He blows up at them when they just act like normal kids, so we don’t eat together as a family. It’s more pleasant that way for everyone.”

It’s easy to see how these solutions can work for a family. What’s harder to see is how they don’t work.

The ten-year-old doesn’t get cured of her anxiety disorder, but actually experiences a worsening of her condition due to the mechanisms of wiring and avoidance. The 16-year-old never develops the kind of attitude that would help her function comfortably as an adult wife and mother, and also loses out on the respect and affection of all the members of the family (including her mother), who resent her lack of reasonable participation in household tasks.

The full-grown woman who insists she can’t get up to tend to the needs of her family not only fails to develop the responsibility and skill set required for full adult competency, but also risks creating marital stress due to resentment, while simultaneously offering her children a poor model of adult functioning. The impatient father never learns how to be a parent, the children don’t learn how to be a father, the children learn to use intimidation to control others, and the wife becomes a dysfunctional go-between in a dysfunctional family.

“Sorry, I Can’t Help You”

How can we distinguish between those times when being helpful is the loving, kind, and right thing to do and when it is harmful? Look at your loved one’s behavior from an outsider’s point of view.

Imagine you’re the teacher. How does it look from that vantage point that a mother is showing up at school with her child’s forgotten belongings every week (not just on a rare occasion)? Does it strike you as odd that a ten-year-old sleeps with her parents? If the scenario looks “off” from the outsider’s angle, you may well be helping harmfully.

A second strategy is to ask yourself what’s motivating your helpfulness: your best interest or theirs? Is it because you want to feel like a good and lovable person, or avoid a difficult interaction? Or is it because you think this is the healthiest way to respond? If it’s the former, you may be helping harmfully.

Sometimes the best way to help is also the hardest.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 768)