As a therapist I am always looking for the right balance of how to communicate my support and care for my clients while also not wanting to be overly reassuring. I have come to learn that it is in fact not really kind, and it is certainly not effective, to do people’s work for them. When we are too quick to give someone solutions and reassurance, we can inadvertently deprive them of the real work and healing that needs to be done. My therapist recently used the metaphor that being overly affirming is like giving someone cotton candy – it’s sweet and enjoyable in the moment of consumption, but it doesn’t provide true sustenance. Cotton candy also disintegrates as you eat it, almost as if it’s disappearing before you can truly take it in. It’s not a real, lasting fix to hunger. 

This experience is familiar to me; someone offering words of affirmation or a compliment and it would seem to just pass through me and not really stick. I would hear it and appreciate it in the moment, but it would be quickly fleeting, leaving me with barely a trace memory of it occurring at all. I was constantly wanting the cotton candy, so to speak, because it gave me a quick fix, but I was left feeling empty and dissatisfied. And of course, when a person is hungry for something, whether it be food or admiration or connection, if they don’t feel full and aren’t met with true nourishment, they go looking for more…and more…and more. It’s never really enough. People can only truly take in what they are ready to receive, and offering reassurance and affirmations when someone isn’t in a place to receive it is just giving someone cotton candy. 

Yesterday, though, I had an amazing experience. I was offered something that in the past would have looked and felt like cotton candy. But based on a variety of factors, most having to do with my readiness to receive it, it was different. I felt like a big, spacious, open, sturdy bowl; ready and able to receive true nourishment. And because I was in that space, the offering I was given transformed into something different. I truly felt like I was receiving a warm, substantial substance that filled up my body, much like consuming a hearty broth on a cold day. It felt just right and I felt an abundance of warmth and contentment, and I am still feeling it today.

I know how tempting it is to seek out the cotton candy and the quick, temporary feel-good fixes that are readily available. I also know how enticing it is to offer it to others, especially when we see someone we care for who is suffering and desperately craving it. But I feel confident that in engaging with a deeper healing process there is something more profoundly nourishing, lasting, and fulfilling waiting on the other side.