I watched a Dr. Phil the other day in which a family yelled all of their words to each other. Words were ugly and angry and carelessly bandied about as if they had no value.
We all know better, right?
I grew up in a household where angry, yelled, ugly words were more common than any other type. Funny, I can’t remember one single great conversation, but I sure can remember a host of the other kind!
I’m not a yeller. Never have been. I always hid from loud noises, and I find I still do. My husband and son have high volume and even when they are discussing football at high intensity, my alarms go off. I’m the MOST thankful to have had a sweet man who never once made me feel threatened.
Funny story. One day not too long ago, we let our granddaughters YELLLLL!!! We encouraged them to just get it all out and boy, did they! Little one yelled with a huge smile on her face until her veins were showing in her little neck, little fists balled up at her sides. Someone asked all the adults in the room if they ever yelled just for the sake of the therapeutic release. The results varied.
It dawned on me that I cannot ever remember yelling! I realized along with a couple other members of my family that I was always too afraid of upsetting or scaring someone — or getting into trouble for yelling. I had certainly occasionally raised my voice to my teenagers and little turkeys once upon a childhood — I mean, come on. But to yell just to get it out!?
So the next day when something had me all knotted up and my sweet man was bundled up with snow gear up to his eyeballs and running the LOUD snowblower within sight outside, I decided to let it RIP! Like some revving up tornado siren, I started from the bottom of my courage and diaphragm and let it start to build — all the while staring outside to make sure I wasn’t being heard. I got about 4.5 seconds in when my husband whips around and stared, wide-eyed at me through the window of the kitchen door. “Nothing!!!!!” I mouthed to him waving at him to go away and quit looking at my red cheeks. Hahahaha! Turns out, I’m not cut out to be a yeller.
But I wonder how much better I’d feel if I were. How many emotions are bottled up in there and how have I chosen to get them out? Certainly they leak out of my face occasionally — sometimes violently in a washcloth in the bathroom, and sometimes slipping silently like so many raindrops down a windowpane. Granted, all stored up feelings that aren’t looked straight in the face come out somewhere, somehow. And we all have moments of weakness where we are human and we behave in a way we regret. It’s the habits and tendencies that we’d rather not, but do allow that are what can be damaging to us and those we love, don’t you think?
I am grateful beyond words that the Healer is so very kind.
Are you a yeller? Do you wish you weren’t? Was yelling a thing you ever experienced as a little one or a grown one? Have you ever just yelled to get the feelings out? If you decide to, let me know how it feels. I’m still working on my bravery and my voice. :o)