500 Words On…Yelling.
Yelling was an everyday occurrence, within my family of origin. With four children and two parents who hadn’t learned how to contain or rise above their rage, there seemed to always be some reason to yell at someone.
There were times when my father went from child to child, asking questions that seemed designed to find us in some wrongdoing he could yell about. If he went through all of us without success, sometimes he would go through the process again – and, eventually, he either found or created a reason to vent whatever frustrations had driven the process.
There is much less yelling here, and what there is is generally short-lived and soon moved past. Nearly all the yelling there is is done by the children – when you are seven, or even ten, life can get too frustrating to take, very quickly, and yelling is a safety valve that prevents an explosion of a far greater magnitude.
I do the best I am able not to take the yelling personally – getting reactive and yelling back never helps, and usually makes things far worse, and it hurts my head, throat, and soul, besides.
Besides, it isn’t personal. It’s just a young person, still relatively inexperienced at life and conflict, who is dealing with more than he or she can handle. The anger or hurt or frustration pour out, and sometimes the words that get used are hurtful – not because the child truly hates me, or their life, but because that is how they feel in this moment in time, and that feeling is too intense to allow them to realize, just then, that there will be love, peace, and joy again – and that they might only be moments away.
I’ve realized, over the last year or so, that, when I can remain in a place of love and calmness, neither feeding or ignoring the emotional chaos, but instead letting it pass through me like a stone through a deep still pool, it’s sometimes enough to help calm the tempestuous energies of the child, as well.
It’s a quiet way to say that I feel their emotional discord, and I still accept them. If the yelling was directed at me, I might say, softly but firmly, “I didn’t deserve that.”
And then, I go about my business, which seems to reassure both children that things are going to be all right – that they might be better than they thought.
Usually, the yelling child will take themselves to their room, to fling themselves on their bed. Often, fatigue was the impetus for the yelling, and the child will be asleep within moments, to wake up happy and better-rested.
Other times, they will settle, and find a diversion. Miah might turn to a book, his 3DS, for games or a show on Netflix; Lise likes books, Littlest Pet Shop characters, and caring for her stuffed animals.
I don’t handle every episode as well as I might, but I keep learning, and each success grows the peace in our home.
Sometimes, I still yell – my ability to control myself is not yet as all-encompassing as I would like it to be.
I no longer excuse myself, not blame myself, for that.
Instead, I keep learning, and healing – because I prefer loving, trusting peaceful life, and yelling isn’t a means to that end. =)
- Turn Yelling Into A Learning Experience For You & Your Child (tuitionpaidlessonslearned.com)
- O is for Openness (shanjeniah.com)
- passionate presence…. (dimitrisnowden.wordpress.com)
- Q is for Quizzing (shanjeniah.com)
- I Gave Up Yelling at My Kids for Lent (blogher.com)