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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • 6 days ago

When we learn to respond to kids’ big emotions with presence instead of punishment, we teach them that their feelings are safe to express rather than something to hide. Responding to kids’ big emotions with connection today becomes the foundation for their emotional resilience tomorrow.

The Moody Melon Show

Got 5 minutes? Join countless listeners who are exploring this powerful topic — listen here.

When “Go to Your Room” Becomes a Wound: Rethinking How We Respond to Kids’ Big Emotions

For generations, parents and caregivers have relied on sending children away when emotions became overwhelming — a slammed door, a quiet “go to your room,” or the all-too-familiar “come back when you can behave.” These actions were rarely meant to harm. More often, they came from a belief that distance would help a child “calm down” or “learn control.” But for many children, these moments of being sent away didn’t teach emotional regulation. Instead, they planted a quieter message: your feelings are too much, and you must face them alone. And those early lessons don’t fade with time — they linger into adulthood, shaping how we respond to our own emotional storms.


A Culture That Fears Big Feelings


Most parents don’t distance themselves from their children to be hurtful; they do it because they were raised in a culture that treats emotional intensity as dangerous or unacceptable. This cultural messaging runs deep: crying is weakness, anger is disobedience, fear is overreacting, and vulnerability is something to hide. When a child expresses big emotions, many adults feel their own anxiety spike — not because the child is misbehaving, but because the parent has no internal map for handling these feelings.


So the instinct becomes: shut it down.


Quiet it.


Remove it.


Distance it.


But emotions aren’t threats. They are signals — powerful indicators of unmet needs, sensory overload, fear, or frustration that a young nervous system doesn’t yet know how to manage. A child in emotional distress isn’t trying to cause trouble. They’re trying to communicate in the only way their body knows how. When adults misinterpret these signals as defiance, disrespect, or manipulation, children learn that honesty about their internal world is unsafe. This is where emotional avoidance begins.


When Distance Feels Like Rejection


Adults may intend distance to be helpful, but the child’s brain processes it very differently. What feels like a neutral decision to the adult — “Take a break in your room” — can feel like abandonment to a child whose nervous system is already overwhelmed. Young children are wired for closeness; emotional safety is fundamentally tied to proximity to caregivers.


So even well-intended actions can translate into painful internal messages, such as:


  • My feelings drive people away.

  • I’m only lovable when I’m calm.

  • When I struggle, I’m alone.

  • Connection disappears in my hardest moments.


These messages don’t stay in childhood. They echo throughout adulthood. The person who learned as a child to “go to your room and calm down” might later struggle to express their needs, fear being a burden, bottle up emotions until they burst, or become hyper-independent. Emotional isolation becomes the default response, not because they want it — but because it was modeled for them as the only acceptable way to handle big feelings.



What Kids Actually Need


Children do not learn emotional regulation through isolation — they learn it through co-regulation. This is the process where a calm, present adult helps a dysregulated child reorganize their emotional state. Safety, not separation, is what helps the nervous system settle. Being present doesn’t mean allowing unsafe behavior, nor does it mean letting chaos take over. It means offering an anchor — steady breathing, grounded communication, gentle language, and openness to being near the child without forcing conversation or control.


Sometimes it looks like sitting quietly in the same room.


Sometimes it’s saying, “I’m here when you’re ready.”


Sometimes it’s helping name the emotion: “That was really overwhelming, wasn’t it?”


When a child knows they are not alone during emotional overwhelm, they learn one of the most valuable lessons for lifelong mental health: feelings are manageable and relationships remain safe, even when emotions are big.



Breaking the Cycle


Many adults today feel torn — they want to respond differently to their own children, but they never had that modeled for them. Their emotional blueprint taught them that overwhelm equals isolation, and now they’re trying to rewrite that map in real time. This is hard, courageous work.


Breaking the cycle doesn’t require perfection. Children don’t need flawless parents — they need present ones. Parents who pause, breathe, and choose connection even when their own upbringing taught them to disconnect. Every time a parent stays instead of sending a child away, validates instead of dismissing, or supports instead of shaming, they’re doing more than soothing a moment. They’re creating an entirely new emotional legacy.


It’s not just the child who heals.


The parent heals, too.


Because responding with compassion to a child’s big feelings often illuminates the parts of ourselves that never received that same compassion.


And So Here’s the Question…


If so many of us learned to fear big emotions because we were sent away in our hardest moments, what might happen — for our children and for our own healing — if instead of retreating, we learned to stay?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉


More Related Articles:


  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Nov 18

Rethinking emotional control means shifting from suppressing feelings to understanding them as valuable signals. When we stop striving for perfect composure, we open the door to deeper healing and authentic emotional expression.

The Moody Melon Show

Got 5 minutes? Join countless listeners who are exploring this powerful topic — listen here.

Rethinking Emotional Control in a Keep-It-Together Culture

When clients walk into therapy saying, “I just need to control my emotions better,” they’re usually repeating a message they’ve absorbed their whole lives. We’re conditioned to believe that calmness equals strength and emotional expression equals instability. Social media tells us to “stay positive,” workplaces reward composure, and families often pass down the message that vulnerability is dangerous or inconvenient.


But this hyperfocus on control creates a paradox:The more tightly we try to control our emotions, the more out of control we often feel.


Fear of losing control can make people disconnect from themselves. They become externally functional—working, parenting, showing up—while internally shutting down. Healing requires more than white-knuckling through emotional storms; it requires learning to understand, feel, and work with emotions rather than against them.



Emotions Don’t Need Controlling—They Need Understanding


Emotions are not misbehaviors. They are messengers. When we suppress them, we don’t make them disappear—we just push them beneath the surface where they create tension, anxiety, physical symptoms, or explosive reactions later on.


Each emotion carries a function:


  • Anxiety warns us of overwhelm or danger.

  • Sadness signals loss or unmet needs.

  • Anger protects values, boundaries, and dignity.

  • Fear heightens awareness and urges caution.

  • Joy reinforces safety and connection.


When clients learn to view emotions as signals rather than threats, they stop battling themselves. The goal becomes understanding the purpose of the feeling, the story behind it, and what it needs—rather than forcing it into silence.


Going With the Flow Isn’t Losing Control


There is a common fear that if people stop “controlling” their emotions, they’ll spiral, fall apart, or become irrational. But emotional flow is not emotional chaos. It’s about allowing emotions to pass through you instead of clinging to them or fighting them.

Going with the flow looks like:


  • noticing a feeling without judging it

  • staying present long enough to understand it

  • letting the emotion rise and fall naturally

  • responding instead of reacting


This approach actually increases emotional stability. Instead of spending energy suppressing or avoiding feelings, clients learn to navigate them with compassion and curiosity. Emotional endurance—not emotional sterility—is what builds confidence.



But What About Anger?


Anger is often the emotion clients fear most—either within themselves or in others. They worry that acknowledging anger means they will lash out or lose control. But anger itself is not the problem; unprocessed anger is.


Healthy anger is a compass. It points toward:


  • violated boundaries

  • mistreatment or injustice

  • misalignment with values

  • unmet needs


Healing involves learning to express anger in ways that clarify, not destroy. This includes pausing before reacting, naming the source of anger, and using assertiveness skills to communicate needs. Anger becomes a tool for empowerment rather than a force of chaos.

Control, in this context, doesn’t mean suppression. It means containment, clarity, and choice.


The Real Goal: Emotional Fluency, Not Emotional Silence


Imagine being fluent in a language—you understand its nuances, its rhythm, its variations. Emotional fluency works the same way. Instead of shutting down emotions, clients develop the ability to:


  • identify what they’re feeling

  • connect emotions to thoughts or triggers

  • sit with discomfort without panic

  • express feelings in healthy ways

  • choose actions that align with their values


This is emotional maturity—not being unshakably calm but being able to navigate emotions with flexibility. Emotional fluency allows clients to feel deeply without becoming overwhelmed, and to act intentionally rather than reflexively.


An Eye-Opening Question:


If you stopped trying to control your emotions… what truths about your life, your boundaries, or your needs might finally be impossible to ignore?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉


More Related Articles:

  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • Nov 16

Healing isn’t about “getting over” your past; it’s about learning to live alongside it with compassion and understanding. True healing comes from acknowledging your pain, honoring your story, and carrying it in a way that empowers rather than diminishes you.

The Moody Melon Show

Got 5 minutes? Join countless listeners who are exploring this powerful topic — listen here.

Scars That Speak: What If Healing Isn’t About “Getting Over” Childhood Abuse?

For many survivors of childhood abuse, life often feels like walking a tightrope between two versions of themselves: the child who endured the pain and the adult society expects to function as though nothing happened. Friends, family, and even professionals may encourage phrases like, “You need to get over it” or “Just move forward.” While well-intentioned, these words can feel like a pressure cooker, invalidating the deep, lasting impact of trauma. Healing is not linear, and the expectation to appear “strong” can make survivors feel even more isolated. The question arises: is the real challenge learning to move on—or learning to live alongside what happened in a way that no longer harms us?


The Invisible Weight of Early Wounds


Childhood abuse leaves marks that are rarely visible to the outside world. The nervous system remembers before the conscious mind does. A sudden spike in anxiety, an unexplainable flash of anger, or a recurring sense of dread might emerge without warning—reminders of early experiences that shaped survival strategies in a world that was unsafe. These wounds are not simply psychological; they are stored in the body, influencing everything from emotional regulation to physical health. Survivors often describe a constant tension, a quiet alertness that doesn’t switch off, even decades later. It is this invisible weight that complicates the idea of “getting over” the past—it is not something that can be neatly filed away.



Healing Isn’t Erasing


Many people equate healing with forgetting, with erasing the difficult chapters of life as though they never existed. But true healing is far more nuanced. It involves learning to hold one’s story with compassion rather than shame. It means recognizing that emotional reactions—anger, fear, sadness—are not personal failures, but adaptations that once kept a child alive. Healing is about integrating these experiences into a coherent narrative, allowing them to inform, but not control, who we are today. It is about transforming pain into understanding, not pretending it never happened.


Reclaiming Your Story


For survivors, reclaiming their story is a pivotal step. This process often begins with releasing blame—not for others, but for oneself. Many survivors carry the weight of responsibility for protecting abusive caregivers or for somehow “causing” the pain they endured. Letting go of these internalized narratives is profoundly liberating. It allows survivors to acknowledge the truth of their experiences and give space for grief, anger, or sorrow without judgment. Reclaiming the story is not a one-time event; it is an ongoing process of reflection, acceptance, and, ultimately, empowerment.


Carrying, Not Denying


Healing does not mean erasing the past, nor does it require detachment from it. Instead, it involves carrying it differently—allowing the memories to exist without letting them dictate present or future choices. Survivors learn strategies to soothe their nervous systems, set boundaries, and cultivate resilience. They may seek therapy, journaling, meditation, or trusted relationships to process and integrate experiences. The goal is not to become “unscarred” but to live fully, even with the scars—carrying them as a testament to endurance rather than a source of shame or limitation.



The Question That Changes Everything


The most eye-opening insight may be this: what if healing isn’t about “getting over” your past at all? What if it’s about giving yourself permission to feel your story, honor it, and grow from it on your own terms? Survivors don’t have to erase the past to reclaim joy, peace, or connection. They only need to learn that their experiences, painful as they may be, are a part of them—but do not have to define the rest of their lives.


What if the key to healing isn’t “getting over” your past—but finally giving yourself the freedom to feel it, name it, and grow from it in a way that truly honors your journey?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉


More Related Articles:

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