The Angry Voice
By: Faith Pearce
(4 min read)
I’m unsure where to start today, so I will dive right in. Buckle up as we are going on a trip around the houses.
Recently I have been finalizing my story for the upcoming book Win the Wellness W.A.R., which launches in a few weeks. So you will be able to read my full story there.
Going down memory lane always stirs up many things, often things that you have forgotten and put away. One of the things I didn’t expect it to stir was a lot of anger. Anger has always been something I struggle to express, and I don’t know if you can relate, but it can feel explosive and not very nice. I’m sure it’s most likely not very nice for those around me, either.
Anyway…what’s my point? The story has made me turn inward and unveil why I get angry. Is it because I am hungry, tired, or something I am not expressing or being true to myself? Sometimes I hear an internal voice screaming, “But why must I do that? I don’t want to. I want to do something else.” As children, we quickly learn we can’t always get what we want and learn to suppress many wants and desires. Society quickly teaches us conformity. By stuffing things down, we shut down part of ourselves.
Some of my earliest memories are at the age of three while on summer vacation. There were five of us. We were on holiday in the Isle of White. We were staying at a Haven holiday complex by the sea with chalets and static caravans. There was entertainment, a clubhouse, a swimming pool, and arcades. The complex included daily and nightly entertainers for the kids and bingo/dancing for adults afterward. We went on walks, treasure hunts, daily swimming, boat rides, cable car rides, filled tubes with different colored sand, dressed in fancy dress, and more. I can still remember the song the entertainers sang each night. “We’re in the factory, busy having fun, we’re in the factory! Fun for everyone, we’re in the factory, fun for you and me, fun, fun factory, that’s the life to be.”
I was a curious child who, if told I couldn’t do something, wanted to do it more. And that’s what I did. On a Saturday night in the clubhouse, we all watched the nightly entertainment whilst my dad got a drink at the bar. I was told I couldn’t follow and didn’t understand why!
So early the following morning, I toddled down to the clubhouse and walked straight over to the side room. Even now, I remember the narrow space, stools lined up alongside the bar, and the smell of stale smoke and beer. My thought was how boring it felt. It didn’t take long for my brother to find me and take me back to the chalet, where I got into trouble for going off on my own. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.
Another memory from this holiday was a father and daughter race on the beach. I sat on my dad’s shoulders and waited for the race to start. I was so focused on the finish line. But my dad was too busy talking to another dad and didn’t hear the starting horn. I was devastated and inconsolable. My emotions consumed me. My dad was always the Joker and thought missing the horn was funny. My mum was left to console me. I always remember another little girl about my age who was so upset as she didn’t have a partner for the next race. She tried to convince me to partner up with her, but I had none of it. They tried everything and asked if a lollipop would make me feel better. Of course, being a kid, I agreed and started to calm down. Or did it really?
Years after this event, the memory of the other girl stayed with me. I felt so guilty for not being her race partner. I thought, why was I so selfish and couldn’t calm down? Why did the anger consume me? It felt so out of control. All my anger did was hurt others. And also subconsciously that food was a way to change emotions.
Another day on the same holiday, we went to an adventure park with slides with hessian sacks, bucking broncos, and rides. I remember being upset because I wanted to ride the bucking bronco, yet I was way, way too small. This day we got into trouble again. We were left to play in the gardens. My brothers were seven and eight, and I was three. They said it would be a fun game to collect the money from the fountain and make a pile in the tree house. The staff was not impressed, and we were barred from coming back. Our parents were embarrassed and furious. I still remember us all lined up and heads down whilst we had a serious “talking to.” “You should know better! We are disappointed. What were you thinking? You need to go off on your own and have a long talk with yourself!”
I remember being angry for not understanding what I’d done wrong.
I am not here to point blame. Children and adults do their best with the tools they have at the time. We all have our own story and history.
What is my point here? I’m not quite sure. But for most of my life, there has been an angry voice that shouts louder and gets quite pissed off at times. What I am learning to do differently is listen and that there is always more to be heard. There are better ways of doing things.
If I could give that three-year-old a voice now, I would ask what she needed. The conversation might go along these lines.
“I feel very overwhelmed, angry, and scared. I just wanted to have fun. I need you to see me and hold me so I don’t feel alone. Please help me and try to understand WHY.”
Giving children space to feel emotions without expectations is healthier than using food as a pacifier or just trying to get them to stop crying or “misbehaving.” Give them choices while explaining the consequences of their options. Explain what the safer or healthier choice would be. Teach them that they can’t always please others and that making mistakes is ok because this is how we learn and grow.
As an adult, emotional regulation and connecting with emotions is something I’ve worked on. One of my biggest takeaways is what I “feel” will soon pass. It is ok to be angry—it is perfectly normal, and feelings are not a bad thing UNLESS I bury them.
Faith Pearce
All Things Wellness, LLC
fancyfaith1234@icloud.com
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