Have you ever suddenly exploded at your child, releasing a torrent of rage at their small faces—even though just seconds beforehand you believed you were in control of your emotions and handling a difficult situation peacefully? I have. I struggle with sudden anger more times than I care to admit.
I just learned that in those moments when I feel like something hijacked my emotions, it’s because something did.
Real versus perceived threats
The podcast, “Transforming Anger into Calm with Afshan Tafler,” by Sarah Rosensweet Peaceful Parenting, explained to me that my nervous system had taken over because wounds formed during my childhood (ages 0–7 years) programmed my body how to respond to perceived threats.
Yep, you read that right.
My child defying me, making a horrific mess, or acting like a bully triggers my body into thinking I'm dealing with a real emergency. Unfortunately, the nervous system doesn’t know the difference between a real emergency, such as running away from a black bear, and a perceived threat, such as my child yelling that he hates me.
Childhood wounds
I know exactly why those particular perceived threats I mentioned above trigger me so fully.
Zero tolerance for defiance
First, when I was a child, defying my parents did equate to a real emergency. Either my dad would spank me (and he was too strong for my delicate rump), or my mom would threaten me with the plastic spatula (my Italian-raised mom didn't own a wooden spoon).
Even if we were in the car, my dad would reach around back. No matter how much I'd try to hug my legs against the car door, he'd manage to thwack my shin so hard that he'd leave a dark pink handprint.
A large mess didn't end well
Second, my mom prided herself on keeping an immaculate home. She fluffed the pillows. She vacuumed and dusted weekly. The laundry never piled up. You get the picture. Oh, how I wish I could keep my home half as clean and decluttered.
However, if my childhood-self created too much of a mess, even within my own room, my parents would yell at me and threaten me with punishment. I recall feeling so helpless and scared and overwhelmed. I had no idea where to start or how to put all those toys away.
To be fair, I'm fairly certain no one taught them the techniques I use with my kids to help make clean up less overwhelming. For example, setting a timer for 10 minutes, turning clean up into a race of who's faster, or reducing the task by assigning a color: e.g., "Can you put all the blue toys away?"
A bullied little girl
Third, I was bullied from kindergarten through high school. For 13 years, my body internalized those wounds over and over again. As I got older, I got better at defending myself and shrugging off the bullies' tactics. I thought after I found my kindred spirits, entered college, and learned to love myself, that I had outgrown the little girl who was never good enough in the eyes of the majority of my classmates. I never thought my repeated exposure to bullying would impact my kids.
However, the moment my child exhibits unkind behavior, my body recalls the kids throwing paper balls at me, laughing at my clothes, and taunting me on the bus. Too clearly I remember the kids calling me names to and behind my back, telling me I was ugly, picking me last for sports teams, and making me feel utterly insignificant.
I wish I could hug my childhood self. I wish I could pull that little girl close to my heart; fill her cup with love; and tell her how imaginative, kind hearted, and beautiful she was. I'm grateful my mom did that for me.
Communication from the body versus the brain
I know that podcast 100% applies to me, because I have to constantly fight against being emotionally hijacked. I've tried so many methods to remain calm, such as breathing deeply and repeating a mantra, such as “This isn't an emergency. I can handle this.”
Although those methods have improved my ability to self-regulate, they aren't always enough for me. Sometimes, the meter skyrockets from five to ten without warning. Once again, my sudden anger surprises me. Why?
Because according to Afshan Tafler, a holistic life coach and parenting coach, "only 20% of communication goes from the brain down to the body." On the other hand, "80% of communication comes from the body up to the brain," she says in the podcast.
In other words, if my chest has tightened, I've furrowed my brow, and I'm breathing through clenched teeth, then my body is overriding my attempts to calm my thoughts. My nervous system is telling my brain that I'm facing a literal emergency. Thus, I have to calm my body first, not my mind, before I can respond calmly. So how on earth does one do that?
Reprogramming the nervous system to end sudden anger
Thankfully, the podcast discusses ways we can reprogram, or repattern, the nervous system. For example, if I practice calming techniques during less stressful times, I'll get better at remembering to use those same techniques in the heat of the moment when I'm triggered.
And you know what blows my mind? I've actually started practicing such techniques when I initially feel overwhelmed. For example, I'm trying to get better at doing quick body scans, where I identify the parts of my body that tighten up when I'm stressed. For me, that's usually my whole upper chest. Or I place my hand over my heart to signal my body is safe.
I even published a dedicated article about 10 ways for parents to refill their empty cup in 10 minutes or less when they feel overwhelmed. I started using all 10 of those techniques during those "less stressful times." And I didn't even realize the long-term benefits they would have on my nervous system!
For my next goal, I want to implement the five-minutes visualization technique discussed in the podcast (28 minutes mark) that can really help me to repattern my nervous system.
Hand over heart, I can do this.
Featured photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash