If there is one thing you will learn about me, it is that I am not afraid of being transparent. I will tell you honestly that I had a problem of yelling at my kids. But let me be really honest and say that the problem wasn’t with just with my kids. I yelled at my husband, too. I’m most definitely not proud to say that, but also not ashamed. I used to be. In fact, I would say I was in denial for a long time that my yelling was a problem. Now, I wasn’t yelling all the time. In fact, most of the time I was able to remain calm and reasonable in various situations. However, there were times when I felt yelling was the only way to handle the situation and that I was not only justified in doing it, but even felt I was beyond the point of controlling it. I am not vicious with my words, but my tone and volume had become an uncomfortable visitor that just kept coming back.
Until I learned about trauma and trauma responses.
This is a very in-depth topic and not the focus of this post, but I do want to touch on something called “triggers” and how they impact us. A trigger is something that causes the brain and body to remember a traumatic event from the past as if that threat is present in the moment.
Let’s get a bit science-y for a second….when it comes to the brain, the portion of it responsible for critical thinking (prefrontal cortex) shuts down when survival mode is activated. In someone who is triggered, their brain and body dramatically shift into survival mode believing the memory is actually reality. No longer having a fully functioning brain to work through the critical thinking needed to come out of the triggered state, the person is left with fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. Which one do you think “yelling” falls under? Fight.
Understanding this, I began trying to recognize what triggered me and caused me to feel like I needed to “fight.” One of the biggest struggles resulting from my trauma is feelings of worthlessness. As I became curious about myself and why I would yell even when I didn’t like it, I started to notice a pattern. More often than not, my tone went from a calm and comfortable level to a loud and overbearing tone when I felt my voice and what I had to say were being dismissed. My brain and body would try to solve the threat of not being seen as valuable, and suddenly my voice became the loudest in the room. I also started noticing that along with the yelling, I would often simultaneously stand as I increased my tone and volume. I was trying to be bigger, to be seen, to be heard.
I was throwing a vocal temper tantrum. I was acting like a child.
And this was when the empathy rushed in. When my child is yelling, are they just trying to be seen? Am I missing something they are trying to show me? If as an adult, I struggled to control my voice, how can I expect my children to do it? Aren’t I really just a child inside an adult crying out to be seen? And if so, how would I want myself, as the parent, to respond? Empathy should always be that answer.
How many times have you heard kids say, “You just don’t understand!” I have heard this from my kids while actively explaining to them a story from my childhood where I went through something super similar. I was a kid once too, so don’t I understand? Obviously not because our kids repeat it over and over. So, where is the disconnect?
I have come to notice from our society that there are extremely high expectations placed on our little ones. Our kids are expected to sit through hours of instruction, have hardly any time to release their natural energy (let’s not even talk about hyperactive kiddos), and handle their emotions among their peers and caregivers as if they’re in the presence of the Queen. This, all while the adults are getting fired for unprofessional behaviors, some of them being the ones in charge of the kids they expect to behave how they can’t even seem to.
Stop it right now. Are we serious? Who are the children in these scenarios??
Forget about answering that because, surprise, we all are.
We’ve all spent generations in the dark about mental health, fearing having an association with it, and most definitely not being allowed to not be okay. Meanwhile, we suffered. And if we don’t do the work to figure ourselves out, our children will learn from their environments and the cycle will continue.
The great news, though, is that we don’t have to continue that cycle and our kids are actually the pathway to healing and forging a new way. Let me run you through a yelling scenario and show you what I mean:
When I tell my kid they cannot have what they are asking for, they will likely argue and beg because they still really want it. As I stand firm in my decision, my child may become more frustrated and the begging continues; maybe even moved to bargaining now. This might become frustrating for me because I gave my answer already and they should respect it.
Besides, they don’t even clean their room now, what makes me think they are going to clean it “every day for a month” just for this thing? Maybe I point that out to them.
At this point, my child might start to express that I just don’t understand and that I never let them have anything they want. This might result in a lecture from me about all the wonderful things I have done as a mother and maybe even how ungrateful they are acting right now. I’m pretty sure this gets swiftly followed with “See! You’ll never understand!” and if not already started, the yelling will commence.
Does this sound familiar?
Let me take you through this situation again, but this time, show you where the change can be found. Don’t worry…you won’t have to look far.
My child comes to me excited about something, with enough belief in a positive result, to ask if they can have it. Right there.
Did we forget what excitement was like as a child? It’s kind of all-consuming, isn’t it? You want that thing so bad it was like the world would end if you didn’t have it and you’ll never know happiness unless you have that one thing!
But then, excitement quickly turns into crushing disappointment. (Remember, the world might just end now…or at least that is the child’s mindset.) Those are two very opposing emotions. And both are completely valid.
Within seconds, your child went from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other and was expected to walk away gracefully without care. Not.Gonna.Happen.
If you give your answer and they don’t just walk away acceptingly, it’s because they have something to say. Let me be very clear: WHAT KIDS HAVE TO SAY MATTERS. Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but they should feel like it does. So, they push back to your answer and start pleading.
The empathic view gets curious about why this matters so much. Did you talk with them about what the thing is/does and why they want it? Even if they have lost privileges, so the automatic answer to any request would be “no,” did you still listen to them about it before giving that response?
Sometimes it’s less about the thing and more about why they want it. The answer may still be “no,” but that doesn’t matter. The point is connection. And when that “no” does come, talk through the disappointment with them because now you are already in a place of connection. Regardless of whether their feelings makes sense to you, how they feel is real to them. Arguing with it won’t make it go away.
That is the disconnect. We seem to have forgotten what it was like for us as children now that adulthood has jaded us. What is exciting or disappointing for a child seems silly to an adult.
But you have to step out of your world and into theirs for just a moment. They are not where you are in a world burdened by responsibilities and they shouldn’t be. Let them be the kid they are at whatever stage that is and look to connect.
Instead of wishing your kid could lose a family board game without losing their cool along with it, notice where they still need help regulating that emotion. Meet the big feelings with compassion and then meet the needs with understanding.
When things turn from calm to chaos, look for the disconnect. More often than not, if you fix the connection, the tone will follow.
I want to leave you with a short story: As I said at the beginning, I HAD a problem with yelling. This is true and I am really proud of myself for coming away from that. Here is the shortened version of the last time I yelled at my kids (the end of 2023):
During an extremely emotional time for our family, I was really struggling to connect with my son. Every time we were together, it seemed like a battle was imminent. Although I had been working on being more empathetic, I was still struggling to understand how to communicate with my son.
There were so many contributing factors that led up to this moment, but during an argument with my son, the yelling began. I was frustrated because I felt I was doing everything I could to show him I loved and cared for him, but he refused to see and denied feeling it. As the yelling intensified for both my son and me, I reached a breaking point. I finally screamed, “I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!!!!” to which tears streamed down both our faces. This did not result in hugging and warm fuzzies.
However, I did see that no matter what I was yelling, my tone and volume mattered. Yelling was not how I would get my message across. We’ll keep discussing in future posts about how I worked on my yelling problem using the empathic views I touched on here.
Just remember, the goal is connection. It doesn’t matter if you dealt with trauma and get triggered or if yelling is just your go-to response. If you come away from yourself in that moment and try to see the situation from the other person’s perspective, you will find connection instead is distance. And when you have a close connection with someone, usually a whisper is all that’s needed.