The Time I Pulled a Knife
I was standing in the hallway that led towards my brother's room. I was around 9 or 10 years old at the time. My brother and I were fighting and he said something that pushed me over the edge. I distinctly remember what my face felt like in that moment. It wore a deep, furrowed brow and a clenched jaw. My arms felt both strong and weak. My whole body was shaking. I felt rage burn through my legs as I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a butchers knife from the drawer. My sister was sitting at the kitchen table as she watched me hurl hateful words towards my brother who stayed in his room. I stood in the middle of our kitchen grasping the blade with fury and screamed as loud as I could. I wanted to hurt my brother, but I couldn’t move. Eventually, all my emotions caved in on me and I yelled, "I CAN’T DO THIS!!" Through drenched eyes, I saw my sister's face — it was full of shock and concern. Her gaze made me feel even more embarrassed, so I slammed the knife down on the counter and ran to my room sobbing uncontrollably. This is where I felt unbearable loneliness and shame.
I share this intense scene to describe what I was like as a child. I grew up in a very loving and safe household, but up until High School my experiences were colored with personal bouts of rage, temper tantrums, and uncontrollable body movements. All my life, I felt ashamed of my anger. I couldn’t handle what I couldn’t control. I couldn’t handle all that was going on inside.
As a young kid to my teen years, I would describe my personality as fun, silly and kind. I loved being wanted and I loved getting attention. I was also timid, a people pleaser and sensitive. At times, I felt like two different people. I was kind and timid to people outside my home, but I didn’t hold back inside my home. I was easily triggered and even though I’m the youngest, my siblings feared me.
I started to learn different coping strategies in college and I felt a lot of healing come in my early 20s, but I never fully addressed anger or my wounds. Until now.
Now, I'm 37 and a mom to a 3.5 year old boy. Motherhood has surfaced a lot of my childhood memories and stuck pain. I’ve learned that this angry part of me never really knew acceptance or wisdom. As a result, I often react to my son like I did as a kid, but with a more “sophisticated" spin on it. To me, anger feels closer and more painful because a little one is involved. I'll spare you the details of my more recent outbursts, but let's just say the first few years of motherhood have brought me to my knees.
Last March, I was on a zoom call with my counselor as I shed tears of pain and grief about my struggle. At the end of our conversation, I exhaled one big breath and said "I'm ready to heal. I need this to change." That appointment was the start of my journey. For the first time ever, I’ve set out to truly learn emotions and accept them — particularly anger and how it’s often connected to shame.
All my life, I heard bible verses or similar language say:
"You can be angry, but don't sin."
"It's okay to be angry, but not okay to act on it."
"Don't let the sun go down while you're still angry."
Those verses were used to speak on behavior, but to be honest, they were often discouraging. I felt like the words just pointed out my failures. I didn’t hear any teachings on how to be angry, I just thought it was bad to be. Hear me though, I don’t blame anyone for not knowing how to navigate my own emotions, I think my authority figures did the best they could.
I thought anger was something to either fix or shun, and I saw my identity tied to it. I thought, "I just don't have enough self-control, I'm bad for feeling angry, or I’m an angry person.” Now that I’m a mom, I see how that kind of thinking doesn’t really help me or my son engage with anger or know what to do when it comes. This quote explains what I’m saying in a different way:
“Instead of telling our children NOT to be mad, let's teach them HOW how to be mad."
Generation Mindful
As I learn and grow towards emotional literacy, I'm learning to be okay with anger and show kindness towards what's really going on inside. I'm finding new ways to express it — ways that invite communication and connection. This process is teaching me that anger has a place and as a result, I hope to show understanding rather than resistance when my son feels mad. I’m learning that I'm not "bad" for feeling what I feel and my behavior isn't something to "fix". Anger is a part of me I’ve shamed all my life and now I can hear my neglected soul asking for care and a listening ear.
This kind of thinking goes against everything I've learned. It challenges the tactics I’ve used to manage my own behavior. It's the kind of work that is slow, painful, and not as manageable. It’s the kind of work that requires a personal death to self-improvement, a letting go and an awakening to Christ’s life-changing love.
As I reflect back on childhood memories I sometimes think, why would God choose me, of all people to mother?? How does he expect me to teach my little person how to express himself when I’m so weak when it comes to anger?
This is the God we serve! He takes the very things we've been through and transforms them. He reminds me that I have credibility and truth to speak on anger because I know it so intimately. He is the grace I've tasted and seen so I can extend endless grace to myself. God has pointed out my shame to say, “This is not your inheritance or your identity!”
If you think you don't have what it takes because you're too weak or too flawed in an area, maybe that's the area God wants to redeem and use for His good plans. He has practical — yes practical — tools AND endless grace. Practical tools that aren’t there to “fix” your anger, but to listen to it. Anger is a complex emotion that often boxes out clear answers, but it’s asking you to feel it and stumble through it so you can truy know love — it’s a great unlearning and rewiring. His grace will help you see anger as a necessary emotion and his wisdom will show you the ways to express it under the safe covering of HIS love.
I'm just beginning and I have a lot of road to travel, but I’m starting to notice a lot of my experiences as a set up for me to succeed. When I feel deep despair or complete inadequacy, I run to the Father. I fall on his lap and say, “I CAN’T DO THIS!” He will stay and say, “It's okay, I’m not going anywhere. You can feel angry and sad and depressed. You can express all that you are to me. You are safe.”
It's here where I find my healing.
For those…
For those who have hidden in the closet in anger or embarrassment — shame come off of you. There's repair and hope.
For those who have driven recklessly to play with death — shame come off of you. There's repair and hope.
For those who have thrown things, beat things, punched things — shame come off of you. There's repair and hope.
For those who have scared their children because of anger — shame come off of you. There’s repair and hope.
For those who have threatened or said damaging words — shame come off of you. There’s repair and hope.
There’s hope. There’s new. There’s healing.
A Practical Tool
One thing I found on this journey is a helpful tool for my son and me. I created a calming corner and hung calming posters made by Generation Mindful [1] where Amos can learn and engage with his emotions. It's not there to fix things, but to embrace the messy and move forward. It’s led me to create my own calming corner when I start to feel triggered in my body and mind. I’ll share more in depth about this soon!
Resources
Boundaries for your Soul by Allison Cook, PH.D.