Being in a couple is about tenderness and loving one another.
You dream of having kids together.
You picture a future filled with laughter and loving embraces.
And then, one day, you come back down to earth,
and that's not exactly how it goes every single time.
One day, with our partner, as with our kids,
things are bound to get out of hand.
Sometimes, we overreact.
I could never have imagined having such feelings of violence
rise up inside of me
towards the people I love most in the world.
I'm a psychotherapist,
and, my whole life, I've tried to figure out
what makes us behave the way we do.
Why do adults behave in such an over-the-top way?
And why don't children
just do as they're asked?
(Laughter)
In order to answer these questions, I looked at scientists for my research.
These days, everyone talks about stress.
It was the professor Hans Selye who introduced the concept, in the 1950s,
to describe the way the body adapts in response to any kind of stimulation.
Stress is therefore an adaptive response.
To ensure our survival, a little gland in our brain keeps watch, the amygdala.
Since the dawn of time, at the slightest hint of danger,
it has set the body's alarm bells ringing, adrenaline, cortisol.
Our body is prepared for fight or flee.
If I can't fight, or flee,
I freeze, I play dead, my body goes numb.
Danger, or even frustration, or pressure,
can trigger stress in young and older alike.
Stress can be recognized as a physical response,
adrenaline, cortisol, coursing through my body,
increased heart rate, muscles tensed, jaw clenched,
we get the feeling in our arms of wanting to thump and to throw things,
our legs want to stamp, to run.
We, as adults, are able to bring this stress response under control.
Though it's not always easy when our partner doesn't tidy up,
or a two-year old child doesn't want to put their boots on.
But a child's brain doesn't yet allow them
to control this stress.
When our child acts up, everyone always says,
"You should set some boundaries!"
And we embark upon a struggle to be the strongest
even if it means we lose our strength along the way
because that's what happens.
Fighting to come out on top means that everyone loses.
Sometimes, we think we've managed to get a child to see reason.
Because he stops. He's not being well-behaved.
He's just... frozen as a reaction to stress.
Setting boundaries is like putting a lid on boiling milk.
It boils over, all the same. It must be held firmly.
You have to clean up around it.
No question of simply watching the milk boil over without doing anything.
And what if I turned off the gas?
I'm going to tell you about how, one day,
my mother managed to turn off the gas when I'd boiled over.
I was 13 years old.
I slapped my mother.
That's right, I slapped my mother.
The action wasn't entirely voluntary.
And she understood that.
Of course, at the time, she slapped me back.
But, after that knee-jerk reaction, she came to talk to me about it.
To make me talk about it.
She knew that when a child goes to the doctor
to have an injection,
when they get home,
all they want to do is to give everyone else injections.
They're on the safe side of the syringe.
My mother wanted to know where that slap came from.
I was on my way back from a friend's house,
and I told my mother about the scene that had shaken me up.
My friend had had a huge fight with her mother,
who had slapped her, and my friend had slapped her back.
I was transfixed.
I didn't understand.
I made my way home on autopilot.
Unable to think, to feel, to speak,
to even understand what was going on inside of me,
until I saw my mother.
At that moment, getting back to my mother, my safety net,
it was as if my body had been given permission
to come out of its frozen state.
And then, the tension,
pent up inside since witnessing the slapping at my friend's house,
came rushing back up to the surface.
Adrenaline, cortisol, my body was waking up.
My muscles tightening, I started to feel like I was
getting angrier and angrier and more and more tense.
As I'd started feeling this aggression
since seeing my mother, I thought it was because of her.
I got into a fight with her over next to nothing.
And then, my body did something that stunned me.
It reenacted the slap.
My brain, unable to find the words to explain things to my mother,
had led my body to show my mother the slap that had upset me so.
So that she would help me.
And she did help me.
She helped me to put my feelings into words.
She helped me to turn off the gas
under the milk that was boiling inside of me.
I could trust her.
Another situation.
In the street, a mother and her child.
The child is walking quietly down the street.
There's traffic, and the mother gets annoyed and says,
"Hold my hand right now!"
The child avoids holding his mother's hand and moves away.
To the child, avoidance isn't a conscious decision.
It's an autonomic stress response.
Our stress puts stress on our children,
and triggers a biological reaction in their brain
that disconnects the outer layers of their brain.
Sometimes, we ask a child who is acting up
to think on their behaviour, to little effect.
Obviously, since their brain is no longer connected.
How can we reconnect our children's brains?
How can we shut off the stress circuit?
That's where the white knight, oxytocin, comes in.
Oxytocin, the hormone of love, of relationships,
the hormone that helps to reduce this stress.
Touching a child, looking at them lovingly,
communicating warmly with them,
helps them to fully recover their brain, and to manage stress.
That's what my mother did with me.
"But isn't that rewarding unacceptable behavior?"
some would say.
Most of us have learned to think of love as a reward.
Neuroscience has shown
that showing our children love
triggers the release of oxytocin,
increases the number of oxytocin receptors in the brain,
reduces stress hormones, boosts the immune system,
and develops neuronal circuits in the prefrontal area of the brain.
The prefrontal area of the brain, which allows us to feel empathy,
enables self-control, helps us to regulate our emotions,
anticipation,
the ability to understand and identify the impact of our actions, responsibility,
that's the kind of brain we want our children to develop.
Through a gesture, a smile,
a show of attentiveness,
we are preparing our children for happiness.
We are literally equipping them to handle stress.
We are helping them to learn not to overreact,
not to overreact later on when they have children of their own.
Love is the fuel we need to manage stress.
Specifically speaking,
I want to share with you a little technique we've developed,
my partner and I.
Picture the scenario, it's 7 p.m., I've been with the kids all day,
he's running slightly late, and gets home
having forgotten to do the shopping I asked him to do.
Then I freak out.
My other half feels guilty.
He sits down in front of the television or goes off to the pharmacy.
That's normal; men aren't allowed to hurt women.
He can't fight. He flees.
But if he goes back out to do the shopping I asked him to do,
that's totally out of line.
Because, really, the shopping, the pharmacy, was just an excuse.
What I needed him to do was to hold me.
Why didn't I just ask him?
Clearly, it doesn't make sense to yell at him.
But, even so, you have to see that it makes sense.
I feel helpless, powerless, all day long.
So I have to summon up a little power,
act tough, pull myself together, for one thing at least.
So I shout, I attack, I'm under stress.
That's where our technique comes in.
He approaches me when I'm getting all worked up,
and takes me gently in his arms.
He says to me,
"There you go. There you go."
Well, then, I push him away, obviously.
Because that would be too easy.
(Laughter)
And then I'm not sure
if he'd still love me if I were stronger and without flaws.
It's amazing when you think about it.
I attack him or I push him away, so that he will love me.
Then I say to him,
"Cut it out! Can't you see I've got stuff to do?
And that's all you can think about!"
(Laughter)
I flee, because I can't attack anymore. I'm still under stress.
If he holds me for seven seconds,
oxytocin starts to flood my brain.
I feel better.
The oxytocin triggers feelings of well-being, confidence,
kind thoughts towards others.
After 20 seconds, I feel much better.
I start to unwind, and cry on his shoulder.
Of course, that doesn't work for everybody.
Sometimes, certain people really can't stand being held.
The kind of people who, when they were children,
experienced a great deal of rejection by their own parents.
They have fewer oxytocin receptors.
They have a hyperactive stress circuit, and are highly impulsive.
But that can be repaired, with love.
Love is also highly effective with our children.
Remember the milk?
Love is a super-effective way to turn off the gas.
The next time you feel a power struggle developing,
you will have something new to try out,
I breathe, I reconnect with the love I feel for my child,
and I take them in my arms.
At the very least, I let them see the affection in my eyes.
He might not calm down straight away.
He may need to release a little more tension first.
The most important thing is to stay connected to one another.
When we are connected, I reconnect his brain.
I recover mine,
and I regain the ability, in the street, to calmly give the command,
"Hold my hand in the street."
And to send my other half a text containing a single word, "Pharmacy."
Responding with love, when the going gets tough,
takes care and effort that is very soon rewarded.
It's a huge time saver.
And what if you topped up your anti-stress fuel tank
first thing each day?
What if you prepared in advance, to better face the day ahead?
What if five minutes of tender loving care every morning
changed your life?
It's worth a try!
Thank you.
(Applause)