She didn't know how

When I was a toddler, I used to bang my head against the wall.

Like literally.

My parents would tell me no.

And to the wall I went.

My family LOVES to tell this story about me.

Usually as proof that I have apparently been dramatic, emotional and stubborn since birth. 😂

And listen.

I'm 48 years into being me.

If the shoe fits, I will wear it.

But lately I've found myself thinking about that little girl differently.

Like what was going on inside of her?

What was she feeling in that tiny little body that was SO BIG she didn't know what else to do with it?

I don't think I ever really thought about her that way until I had a toddler of my own.

Because she had big emotions too.

I'd tell her no.

Cue the tantrum.

Except sometimes the two-year-old wasn't the only one having trouble handling her emotions.

The 32-year-old wasn't doing so hot either.

Her meltdown would trigger something in me.

I'd get angry.

Frustrated.

I'd react to her reaction.

And then later I'd sit there feeling AWFUL about how I'd handled it.

I didn't want to respond that way to my daughter.

I just didn't seem to know any other way.

And one day, sitting on my couch after one of those blowups, I found a parenting blog.

That woman changed my life.

She explained that a toddler doesn't have the brain development yet to manage those huge emotions.

You tell her she can't have the candy and BOOM.

She's flooded with feelings her little brain doesn't know what to do with.

And our job as parents is to show her how.

I remember sitting there thinking...

Well holy shit.

There's the problem.

I don't know how either.

I was a grown woman trying to teach my daughter how to do something I had never learned how to do myself.

And somewhere along the way, I started thinking about that little girl banging her head against the wall.

Maybe she wasn't trying to be difficult.

Maybe she didn't come into this world hell-bent on being dramatic.

Maybe she just didn't know what to do with what she was feeling.

She didn't know how then.

And neither did I now.

That realization started me down a road I don't think I've ever really gotten off of.

I wanted to understand WHY.

Why did I react so strongly?

Why could somebody say one thing and suddenly my whole body felt like it was on fire?

Why did I KNOW how I wanted to respond and still sometimes do the exact opposite?

I remember thinking about my best friend.

She could be patient.

Loving.

Kind.

She could let things roll off her back that would have me ready to lose my shit.

Why could SHE do that and I couldn't?

Was this just who I was?

Was I just... broken somehow?

So I started learning.

About the brain.

About the body.

About emotions.

About why we react the way we do.

And slowly, I started to understand myself differently.

There wasn't something wrong with me.

There were things I just didn't know how to do yet.

And once I understood what was actually happening inside of me, I could finally see where I had some choice.

But here's the part I've been thinking about lately.

Maybe the goal was never to get rid of all those parts of me either.

I'm still emotional.

I feel things deeply.

But because I feel deeply, I love deeply too.

And I have this huge desire inside of me to help people feel seen.

Not necessarily to make whatever they're going through easier.

Sometimes I just want another human who is struggling to know...

I see you.

This makes sense.

You're not alone here.

And there are things you can learn.

I spent so much of my life struggling with my own reactions that I became obsessed with understanding WHY we react.

And learning why was one of the most life-changing things that ever happened to me.

I stopped believing everyone else needed to act differently so I could feel differently.

I started seeing where I had choice.

Where I could learn.

Where I could change.

And stubborn?

Oh, we're definitely keeping stubborn. 😂

Because I kept going with this work when I felt like a fraud.

When I didn't know what the hell I was doing with any of it.

When it felt stupid.

When it felt like a waste of time.

When I probably had plenty of reasons to just let it go.

I didn't.

So maybe my family isn't entirely wrong when they tell that story.

Maybe that little girl WAS emotional.

Maybe she WAS reactive.

Maybe she WAS stubborn.

I just don't see those things quite the same way anymore.

I don't look at that little girl banging her head against the wall and think...

Yep. There I am. Being difficult from the very beginning.

I look at her now and think...

Oh sweet girl.

You just didn't know how.

Neither did I.

I'm learning.

With you,

Still learning.
Still coming home.

— Stacie