13 - A Popped Balloon

My wedding anniversary is very soon and I can’t help but think about the greatest thing my husband ever taught me.

Rewind 25 years to a newly married couple, on the verge of their first big fight. I don’t remember what it was about. I don’t remember how it ended. All I remember was where I was standing when my husband said something to me that I will never forget.

It was in our first apartment. A cramped, 500 square foot two-bedroom, in a questionable neighborhood, right off the highway. I was standing in the hallway (not really a hallway, more of an area to pivot right to the bedroom, left to the extra room that stored all of our junk, or straight to the bathroom), as he said the words, then turned to go to get dressed.

Was he getting ready for work? Was he dressing for bed? I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything except these words:

Don’t say anything you might regret. 

My retort, one that I would regret, stood on the tip of my tongue. I longed to spew it. I was dying to say it. I had the perfect, hateful response. But for some crazy reason, one that I can’t explain, I didn’t say it.

Growing up, the only thought I gave to my insults was how to make it worse. How to make the sting more hurtful. I had been taught, from a young age, that words are powerful weapons. And I was a master. So what made me change at that moment? 

The effort to tame that, hold it back, took an abundance of energy and control that I had never before experienced. I can picture myself in every instance as I closed my mouth, tight, to contain the crazy. I cannot tell you the reason for the anger, or the words I wanted to say. But I remember the feeling. The boiling and bubbling, and trying to hold it back like lava. How in the world did I do it?

For me, I pictured my husband and how he would feel. And then because we were one, through marriage, how I would feel by inflicting that pain. On the one person in the world I loved the most. And that stopped me.

When my kids were born, it was important that they, too, would learn this valuable trait. It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to be frustrated. But it is not ok, in the heat of anger, to say words that can never be taken back. It’s a hard skill to learn. It’s really hard! But it’s worth it when you care about someone. I also added my own visual layer to help them understand.

Imagine you are holding a balloon. It holds all of your anger. Sometimes it is completely deflated because things are good. Other times, it is blown up, but you’re still able to hold it. Now imagine, you get so angry that the balloon just keeps getting bigger and bigger and bigger. You feel justified in your anger which allows it to stretch beyond its capability. It pops. But instead of air or confetti, your balloon is actually filled with poop. That gets on everyone who is around. 

For a moment, imagine your balloon has just popped and exploded all over your spouse, or friend, or child, or parent, or neighbor. Your waste has just exploded all over them. Picture it. Right now. That person you are angry with is now covered in your feces. How fun would that be? Not so much.

Now, imagine what would you say. Are there any words to cover the horror of what just happened? Is sorry sufficient?

We all get stressed and behave in ways that are unbecoming. I get frustrated and slam things around. I yell out a cuss word in the kitchen. I mumble under my breath. But when I say a hateful and hurtful thing to a person, when I spew all of my insecurities and frustrations and nastiness onto a single person, I am essentially smearing my feces in their face. 

You can’t take that back. You can’t recover. You can never decontaminate someone after that situation.

There is something that we all need to learn. It’s that ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES. It’s so weird that people think they can say horrible things, or act in horrible ways, and not have repercussions. It’s so basic. How do we not know that? We think if we say we are sorry, the person has to accept it. We think, “That was hard for me to apologize, so you should say it’s ok.” But it’s not ok. Sometimes sorry isn’t good enough.

I am constantly trying to be the best version of myself that I can be. I am not in competition with anyone else. No one. Only me. I want to be the best me.

So recently, someone was angry at me and said some passive-aggressive crap. I was proud that I responded in a calm, thoughtful way. I am not better than that person. I am just happy that I behaved in a way that was 100% better than I would have done in the past. I pinched my lips and reminded myself that they were acting out in anger. It happens.

But when they escalated the conversation, zero to 60 in 2.3 seconds, I was shocked. I had tried to be mature and kind, but that was not being reflected. 

What did I do?

I’ll tell you what I did!

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I took a deep breath and I walked away. 

Pretty anticlimactic. But really, it’s not.

I have been trying to be the best me possible. That can’t happen if there is no friction. That can’t happen if there is no opportunity to practice the pause. I have mastered holding my tongue with my husband and children, who I love more than life itself. But other people? That’s harder. 

Again, I am not better than the other person. I’m just further along in my journey. I wouldn’t know that if I hadn’t been given this golden opportunity. I am not competing against anyone except myself. And the new me is winning. 

I have a wonderful peace about that. 

So take a moment and evaluate your behavior. Make some tweaks. Find areas for improvement. And most importantly, Don’t say anything in anger that you will regret. Because, like shit that has exploded from a balloon, you can’t take it back.