Looking back at the reunion I attended last month, I couldn’t help but notice something striking.
While my generation navigated life’s challenges without therapy apps or self-help podcasts, we somehow developed emotional skills that served us remarkably well.
The younger colleagues I mentored before retirement often struggled with situations we handled instinctively.
Growing up in the 1960s meant developing coping mechanisms through necessity, not choice. We didn’t have terms like “emotional intelligence” or “mindfulness.”
We just learned to deal with life as it came, and psychology research now shows those lessons shaped us in profound ways that younger generations, despite all their resources, often miss.
After six decades of observation and a retirement spent diving into psychology books, I’ve identified nine emotional coping skills that my generation developed naturally.
These aren’t nostalgic reminiscences about “the good old days.”
They’re practical capabilities that emerged from how we were raised, and understanding them might help anyone navigate today’s complexities with more grace.
1) They learned to sit with sadness instead of always chasing happiness
We didn’t grow up believing we should be happy all the time. When something hurt, we sat with it. We didn’t immediately reach for distractions or quick fixes because, frankly, they weren’t available.
I remember losing my first job at 23. No internet to scroll through, no instant messaging to seek validation. Just me, alone with my disappointment, learning to process it.
That forced confrontation with difficult emotions built something valuable.
As Dr. Joseph P. Forgas notes, “Evolutionary theory suggests that we should embrace all of our emotions, as each has an important role to play under the right circumstances. So, though you may seek ways to increase happiness, don’t haphazardly push away your sadness. No doubt, it’s there for good reason”
Today’s generation seems allergic to sadness, immediately medicating it away or drowning it in digital noise.
But sadness teaches patience, empathy, and depth. It grounds you in reality rather than keeping you floating in artificial optimism.
Every meaningful conversation in my youth happened face-to-face. No texting, no social media, just real human interaction with all its awkwardness and authenticity.
Research confirms what we lived: “Face-to-face contact releases a whole cascade of neurotransmitters and, like a vaccine, they protect you now and well into the future,” according to psychologist Susan Pinker.
Those neurotransmitters built our emotional resilience in ways that emoji reactions and video calls simply can’t replicate.
We learned to read subtle facial cues, to sit through uncomfortable silences, to repair relationships in person rather than ghosting people who disappointed us.
3) They mastered the art of delayed gratification
Want something? Save for it. Wait for it. Work for it. That was life in the 1960s. Credit cards were rare. Amazon didn’t exist. If you wanted a new record album, you saved your allowance for weeks.
This wasn’t just about money. We waited to talk to friends until we saw them. We waited for our favorite TV show to come on once a week. We waited for letters to arrive.
All that waiting built emotional muscle.
The famous Stanford “Marshmallow Test” by Walter Mischel proved what we lived: “Children who were willing to delay gratification… ended up having higher SAT scores, lower levels of substance abuse… and better scores in a range of other life measures”.
4) They built emotional intelligence through real-world interactions
Without screens to hide behind, we had to navigate complex social dynamics in real time. Every playground dispute, every family dinner, every awkward school dance taught us to read rooms, manage conflicts, and understand unspoken social rules.
You learned quickly that rolling your eyes at your mother had immediate consequences. That tone of voice mattered.
That some things, once said, couldn’t be taken back. These lessons stuck because they had real, immediate impact on our daily lives.
5) They learned to express emotions authentically
We didn’t curate our emotions for public consumption. When someone died, we grieved openly at funerals. When we were angry, people knew it. Joy was spontaneous, not staged for cameras.
This authenticity served us well. We learned that emotions were information, not inconveniences. Anger told us when boundaries were crossed.
Fear kept us safe. Even sadness had its place, teaching us what mattered most when we lost it.
6) They developed self-control through structured environments
School meant sitting still for hours. Church meant staying quiet. Dinner meant waiting until everyone was served. These structures weren’t negotiable, and they built self-control muscles that served us for life.
We didn’t have constant entertainment to soothe every moment of boredom. Long car rides meant staring out windows, learning to entertain ourselves with our thoughts.
That ability to be still, to wait, to control impulses without external rewards became foundational to how we managed emotions later.
7) They built resilience through accepting life’s difficulties
Nobody promised us life would be easy or fair. When things went wrong, the message was clear: Deal with it. Not in a harsh way, but in a practical, matter-of-fact way that assumed you were capable of handling whatever came.
This acceptance of difficulty as normal, not exceptional, created remarkable resilience. We didn’t expect to be rescued from every discomfort. We expected to work through it, and usually, we did.
8) They learned to compartmentalize without shutting down
Work problems stayed at work. Home problems stayed at home. We learned to function in one area of life even when another was falling apart. This wasn’t emotional suppression; it was emotional organization.
Without the ability to vent instantly to hundreds of online friends, we learned to contain our emotions until the appropriate time and place.
This taught us that not every feeling needed immediate expression or validation. Some things could wait, and in waiting, often resolved themselves.
9) They developed patience through forced monotony
Boredom was a regular companion in the 1960s. No smartphones, limited TV channels, stores closed on Sundays. We learned to be comfortable with nothing happening, to find contentment in stillness.
This patience became a superpower in handling emotional turbulence. We could wait out bad moods, difficult phases, and relationship rough patches because we understood that not everything needed immediate resolution.
Time itself was often the best medicine.
Closing thoughts
These emotional coping skills weren’t consciously taught; they emerged from the constraints and realities of mid-20th century life. We developed them because we had to, not because someone told us they were good for us.
Today’s generation has advantages we never dreamed of. Access to mental health resources, emotional vocabulary, and therapeutic tools.
But in gaining these advantages, something was lost: The forced practice of sitting with discomfort, of working through problems without escape hatches, of building emotional strength through necessity rather than choice.
The practical lesson here isn’t to abandon modern tools or romanticize the past. Rather, it’s to recognize that convenience and instant gratification, while comfortable, don’t build emotional resilience.
Sometimes the old ways of handling emotions, born from having fewer options, created strengths that all our modern solutions can’t quite replicate.
Perhaps the key is finding ways to voluntarily embrace some of these constraints, choosing to wait, to feel, to connect in person, even when easier options exist.
