There’s a part of parenting we don’t feel comfortable talking about and that's anger. Rage, frustration - call it what you want but I’ve felt plenty of it. Guilt we’re okay with because, socially, guilt is perceived as a parent who cares and wishes they could do more and be more. We wear our mom guilt like a badge of honour. Anxiety is also palatable. To feel constant worry in some shape or form? Well, isn’t that part of the job description? Again, it means you just care a whole bunch. And we all aspire to be endlessly and constantly caring parents. Guilt and anxiety keep the child front and centre; they’re arguably more selfless emotions to carry. Rage, however? Not so much. Rage is not pretty, it’s not something we’re proud of, and it’s not proof of how far we’re willing to go as parents to prioritise our children. To me, the presence of rage in my body is like a hand reaching from within trying to pull me back to myself, and my own needs. Rage is ostensibly selfish and it’s something we want to stamp out as soon as it arrives (which never works, does it?) but when you hold space for it, it actually serves a purpose. Rage, though deeply uncomfortable, reminds you that you matter just as much as your child - it’s quite literally banging on your window to tell you this - but culturally and socially, we’re still at a place where that’s not true. The shame I feel when I inevitably snap at my son - and it happens despite my best efforts. The other evening I was so worn down, I had completely ‘run out of gentle’ as I describe it and when I went to say ‘no’ to yet another ridiculous but to-be-expected bedtime snack request from a toddler who knew full well they were pushing me as far as they could, the ‘no’ came out like a roar. I frightened myself. He just thought it was funny. I immediately started to cry. The rage went off in my body in much the same way a panic attack did: it felt like fire filling my limbs, tightening my chest. Of course, these moments and the thoughts that can accompany them are not things I necessarily want to shout about from the rooftops. But they’re there, taking up space in this whole parenting experience and no, you’re not a monster for feeling them. The key is letting yourself metabolise the anger and seeing it for what it is.
With all of the bad press that rage gets, it’s easy to forget that it’s actually part of our fight or flight response, triggered by stress. It’s the fight part. Sometimes stress manifests as anxiety or a good cathartic cry - that’s the flight part, where we instinctively want to run away - and sometimes it shows up as burning rage, which is the other, less acceptable end of the scale. I am very familiar with anxiety and tears. We go way back at this stage. But anger is new for me and I’m still getting used to the fact that it frequently drops by unannounced, colouring the rest of my day. I know how to respond to anxiety. I wrote the book on it, literally. But rage is very disconcerting; it’s not something I ever thought I was capable of feeling and went most of my life avoiding it because in any other situation - be it work or a relationship - you can just walk away. With parenting, you can’t.
When it comes to anxiety, I’m always keen to talk things through, allowing it to dissolve as I put the pieces together. With rage, I require a completely different response and it’s one I’m only starting to figure out. I go inward. I’ve noticed this happen to me when Barry goes to give me a cuddle when I am at the peak of frustration - it’s almost always parenting-related - and I stiffen up. We’ve now both realised that in those moments, I need to be left alone. A cuddle forces me to not be angry and I need to be angry, at least for a few moments. I usually need to clean as a way to release the pressure valve. The energy passing through - be it anxiety or anger - always needs somewhere to go. It needs an outlet. In hunter-gatherer times we’d quite literally fight or flee. Then the feeling would settle. In today’s world, we have the same physiological response but we expect our bodies to just absorb it which, more often than not, makes matters worse. So as soon as I can, I have to get active. Just this morning I felt bowled over by frustration again. This time it was an argument with my brother who’s staying with me at the moment (it also indirectly involved my son). He wanted to talk it through but at that moment I knew that even if I said ‘Yeah it’s all good’, that would be the diametric opposite to how I was feeling. I said I just needed a moment to be in a bad mood and I went for a run. I don’t enjoy running but I listened to my body and allowed myself to go further into a rage in a way that was probably more healthy than smashing plates in my kitchen (which I have absolutely fantasised about doing).
I’m still feeling it now as I write - it’s why I sat down to write - but it’s easing off. Rage is a part of parenting I did not expect. It’s one we hear so little about. But it’s one that most of us have to contend with at some point or another. We need to accept it and figure out the best response for ourselves; what do you need in a moment of rage? If it’s not a cuddle, then don’t do cuddles for someone else’s benefit. Rage is a lot like a caged, agitated monkey who needs to get out. Find a way to let it free in a way that’s safe and productive to ensure it doesn’t start to eat through the bars from the inside out.
With that, I’m off to Google those demolition centres where you show up to throw a bunch of glass bottles at a wall and smash stuff up with delightful reckless (but still safe) abandon. They really exist. Who’s coming with me?
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Experiencing rage for the first time was when I became a mother. You articulate it so well. It’s almost scary to feel such a huge feeling but you’ve really helped me understand it- it’s when your own needs aren’t being met. I’m looking at it totally differently now and giving myself a break after reading this ❤️
I’ve 3 under 3 and the rage is very real. Seldom acted on but when I do it’s immediately followed by immense guilt and shame! Just curious if anyone else’s rage is sometimes directed at the person they feel safest with ie partner and how to navigate that??