Lessons From the End of a Marriage
When I was a kid, I used to have tantrums.
And not just any tantrums.
The on the ground, store-clearing, face-purpling variety.
And I had them a bit longer than was considered to be developmentally appropriate.
Sorry, mom and dad.
I can still remember the feeling. It was like a bucket of fizzy emotion had just been poured into a shot glass, overwhelming me with its intensity and confusion and frustrating me with my inability to make sense of what I was feeling and to communicate it to others.
And it was the latter that prompted the tantrums, that external display of anger that actually came from anger at myself and my struggle to reign in my other emotions.
If I had still been engaging in these external displays of excess emotion once I reached school age, I would have been referred for anger management classes.
When really what I…
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