Remember the story of my friend who “found his son again.” You could say that the relationship between this father and son was $100, $200, or even $10,000 overdrawn. There was no trust, no real communication, no ability to work together to solve problems. And the harder this father pushed, the worse it got. But then my friend did something proactive that made a tremendous difference. Taking an inside-out approach, he became an agent of change. He stopped reacting to his son. He made an enormous deposit in this boy’s Emotional Bank Account. He listened, really, deeply listened. And the boy suddenly felt validated, affirmed, recognized as an important human being.
One of the biggest problems in many family cultures is the reactive tendency to continually make withdrawals instead of deposits. Consider what my friend Dr. Glen C. Griffin suggests is a typical day in the life of a teenager.
A Day’s Input To A Teen
What kind of impact will this kind of communication—day in and day out—have on the balance in the Emotional Bank Account?
Remember, love is a verb. One of the great benefits of being proactive is that you can choose to make deposits instead of withdrawals. No matter what the situation, there are always things you can do that will make relationships better.
One father from a blended family shared this experience:
I have always considered myself to be an honest, hardworking man. I was successful at work and in my relationships with my wife and children—with the exception of our fifteen-year-old daughter Tara.
I had made several futile attempts to mend my broken relationship with her, but every attempt had ended in a frustrating failure. She just didn’t trust me. And whenever I tried to resolve our differences, I seemed to make things worse.
Then I learned about the Emotional Bank Account, and I came across a question that really hit me hard: “Ask yourself, are those around you made happier or better by your presence in the home?”
In my heart I had to answer, “No. My presence is making things worse for my daughter Tara.”
That introspection almost broke my heart.
After the initial shock I came to the realization that if this sad truth were to change, it would only be because I changed myself, because I changed my own heart. I not only had to act differently toward her; I needed to commit to truly loving her. I had to quit criticizing and always blaming her, to quit thinking that she was the source of our poor relationship. I had to quit competing with her by always making my will supersede hers.
I knew that unless I acted on these feelings immediately, I would probably never act on them, so I resolved to do so. I made a commitment that for thirty days I would make five deposits daily into my Emotional Bank Account with Tara—and absolutely no withdrawals.
My first impulse was to go to my daughter and tell her what I had learned, but my better judgment told me that the time was not right for teaching with words. It was time to begin making deposits. Later that day, when Tara came home from school, I greeted her with a warm smile and asked, “How are you?” Her curt reply was “A lot you care.” I swallowed hard and tried to act as if I’d not heard it. I smiled and replied, “I just wondered how you were doing.’ ”
During the next several days I worked hard to keep my commitment. I put reminder “stickies” everywhere, including on the rearview mirror of my car. I continued to dodge her frequent barbs, which was not easy for me because I had been conditioned to fight back. Each experience caused me to see just how cynical our relationship had become. I began to realize how often in the past I had expected her to change before I would do anything myself to make things better.
As I focused on changing my own feelings and actions rather than hers, I began to see Tara in an entirely new light. I began to appreciate her great need to be loved. And as I continued to let the negative blows glance off, I felt an increasing strength to do so without any inner resentment, but with increased love.
Almost without effort I found myself beginning to do little things for her—little favors that I knew I did not have to do. While she studied, I would quietly walk in and turn up the light. When she asked, “What’s this all about?,” I’d reply, “I just thought you could read better with more light.”
Finally, after about two weeks, Tara looked at me quizzically and asked, “Dad, there’s something different about you. What’s happening? What’s going on?”
I said, “I’ve come to recognize some things about myself that need changing, that’s all. I’m so grateful that now I can express my love to you by treating you the way I know I should have treated you all along.”
We began to spend more time together at home, just talking and listening to each other. More than two months have gone by now, and our relationship has been much, much deeper and more positive. It’s not flawless yet, but we’re getting there. The pain is gone. The trust and love increase each day, and it’s due to the simple yet profound idea of making only deposits and no withdrawals in the Emotional Bank Account—and doing it consistently and sincerely. As you do you will begin to see the person differently and begin to replace self-serving motives with service motives.
I am certain that if you ask my daughter what she thinks of me now, she would quickly reply, “My dad? We’re friends. I trust him.”
You can see how this father used proactivity to make a real difference in his relationship with his daughter. Notice how he used all four human gifts. Look at how self-aware he was. Look at how he could stand apart from himself, from his daughter, from the whole situation and see what was happening. Notice how he could compare what was happening with what his conscience was telling him was right. Notice how he had a sense of what was possible. Through his imagination he could envision something different. And notice how he used his willpower to act.
And as he used all four gifts, look at what began to happen. Things began to improve dramatically—not only the quality of the relationship but also how he felt about himself and how his daughter felt about herself. It was like flooding a toxic culture with a healing balm. That’s literally what he did. He made many deposits because he got his head out of the weaknesses of other people and focused on his own Circle of Influence—on those things he could do something about. He was truly an agent of change.
Just remember, every time you build your emotional life on the weaknesses of others, you give your power—that is, your unique human gifts—away to their weaknesses so that your emotional life is a product of how they treat you. You disempower yourself and empower the weaknesses of others.
But when you focus on your Circle of Influence and on doing what you can to build the Emotional Bank Account—to build relationships of trust and unconditional love—you dramatically increase your ability to influence others in positive ways.
Let me share with you some specific ideas—some “deposits” you can make in your own family—that may be helpful. These are practical ways that you can begin to practice Habit 1 in your family now.
Being Kind
Some years ago I spent a special evening with two of my sons. It was an organized father and sons outing, complete with gymnastics, wrestling matches, hotdogs, orangeade, and a movie—the works.
In the middle of the movie, Sean, who was then four years old, fell asleep in his seat. His older brother, Stephen, who was six, stayed awake, and we watched the rest of the movie together. When it was over, I picked Sean up in my arms, carried him out to the car, and laid him in the backseat. It was very cold that night, so I took off my coat and gently arranged it over and around him.
When we arrived home, I quickly carried Sean in and tucked him into bed. After Stephen put on his pajamas and brushed his teeth, I lay down next to him to talk about the night out together.
“How’d you like it, Stephen?”
“Fine,” he answered.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yes.”
“What did you like most?”
“I don’t know. The trampoline, I guess.”
“That was quite a thing, wasn’t it? Doing those somersaults and tricks in the air like that?”
There wasn’t much response on his part. I found myself making conversation. I wondered why Stephen wouldn’t open up more. He usually did when exciting things happened. I was a little disappointed. I sensed something was wrong; he had been so quiet on the way home and getting ready for bed.