Okay, here’s my blog post about what I did when my husband started yelling:
So, picture this: It’s a Tuesday night, dinner’s cooking (or, let’s be real, I’m ordering takeout), and suddenly, things get heated. Not the good kind of heated, like a spicy curry. Nope, my husband starts yelling. It wasn’t even about anything huge, I think it was something dumb like the overflowing laundry basket, but his voice just kept getting louder and louder.
My Initial Reaction (and Why It Was Wrong)
My first instinct? To yell back. Seriously, my inner voice was screaming, “Oh, you wanna yell? I can yell too!” I’m not proud of it, but I went straight into defensive mode. I matched his volume, started throwing back accusations, the whole nine yards. It was like a verbal tennis match, except nobody was winning, and the ball was made of resentment.
Spoiler alert: This did not help. It escalated things so fast. We were both just shouting, not even listening to each other, and the whole house felt like it was shaking with tension. The kids were hiding in their rooms. Even the cat looked stressed.
Taking a Breather (Literally)
After a few minutes of this ridiculous shouting match, I realized, “This is stupid.” My chest was tight, I felt like I was going to explode, and nothing was getting resolved. So, I did something I almost never do: I stopped talking.
I just said very calmy “I need a time out”.
I literally walked away. I went into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the faucet. Just the sound of running water helped a little. I splashed some cold water on my face and took some deep breaths. Like, really deep breaths, the kind where your belly expands and you feel like you’re inflating a balloon in your lungs.
Cooling Down and Reconnecting
- Deep breaths: I must done 10 deep breath before I feel the calm.
- Counting:Sounds silly, but the water running and counting til 60 really helped me.
- Leaving the room:This is the most important part.
After about five minutes (maybe ten, I wasn’t timing it), I felt a little calmer. My heart wasn’t racing anymore, and I didn’t feel that burning anger in my throat. I could actually think straight.
I went back out, and he was sitting on the couch, looking pretty deflated. He didn’t start yelling again, which was a good sign.
I sat down next to him, not too close, but close enough to show I wasn’t running away. I didn’t apologize (because honestly, I wasn’t ready to take all the blame), but I did say something like, “Okay, that was… a lot. Can we try talking about this without yelling?”
Talking (Finally!)
And you know what? We actually talked. He explained why he was so frustrated (turns out it wasn’t just the laundry basket; he’d had a terrible day at work). I explained why I felt attacked by his yelling. We didn’t magically solve all our problems, but we actually communicated. It was a start.
The Aftermath (and Ongoing Work)
It wasn’t perfect. We still have disagreements, and sometimes voices get raised. But now, I’m much quicker to recognize when things are escalating. I’m more likely to take that breather before things explode. And he’s gotten better at recognizing his own triggers, too. We both try hard to not let it get that bad again.
It’s a work in progress, like any relationship. But I’m learning that sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is step back, breathe, and choose to talk instead of yell. It’s definitely harder than yelling back, but it’s so much better for everyone involved.
