Dear Auntie Mac,

My adult child is extremely unhappy. She doesn’t like her job, she has few friends, has no romantic relationship. When I suggest she get some counseling, career counseling, life counseling, she gets angry and doesn’t speak to me for a while. I worry, and would appreciate any advice you could give me.

Worried Mother

My Dear Neighbor:

One of the most heartbreaking things a parent must endure is a truly unhappy child, no matter their age. Auntie Mac assumes that your concern is newfound, and that your daughter did not glide from the womb in a pool of despair, but rather, recent (or relatively recent) circumstances have produced what you perceive to be a profound listlessness and melancholy. I mention your perception because there are indeed many who despise their jobs, have but few friends, and are not interested in romance, and they are for the most part happy and content—apart from at times expressing a fervent wish to win the lottery and be done with employment altogether. She wonders if you have asked your daughter to share what may be troubling her, or if you are merely relying on your own observation of a change in her behavior and her angry reactions to your offers of “assistance.” Auntie Mac often finds that most people, given the opportunity, will bare their existential crises, frustrations, and litany of ways in which they are indeed Fate’s special target, if they trust that the listener is doing just that—listening—and that no advice, suggestions, or attempts to “fix” the problem will be forthcoming. Unadulterated sympathy is what many of us long for and few of us receive, for we all, when on the receiving end of someone’s woes—especially those of a loved one—wish to leap in and be “helpful,” when what we are actually doing is belittling the person who’s sharing her state of mind with us. Unless the proffered advice is of an order of magnitude so divergent from what the sufferer would have come up with as a solution and then discarded (“I’ve always felt that a swim in a pond full of leeches followed by a bowl of 10-day-old bean soup just puts me to rights again”), offering unsolicited advice is insulting and, frankly, demeaning. A patient, kind, and non-judgmental ear, without giving in to the urge to repair what you feel is broken, will go a long way to providing at least some comfort to an adult daughter who, it appears, needs comforting now, especially from someone close to her. After she begins to trust that you are on her side (“Your supervisor sounds like the worst possible human being ever. That must be awful for you.” “I envy your skill at that single-player video game.” “I never liked Harold—he has the face of a mole. Such squinty little eyes; you’re well rid of him.”) she may begin to divulge more about this current emotional state, and actually request–and welcome–your help. And when that day comes, you’ll be more than ready.

Your Auntie Mac