I Don’t Want to Yell Anymore

“It’s like you take care of me, and then you yell at me.”

My almost-five-year-old daughter’s lip trembled and her eyes welled up with tears. I had lost my temper yet again.

It seems to happen so often lately. It happens when she spills the water I told her to hold with two hands. It happens when I walk into her bedroom and discover a minefield of toys on every flat surface. It happens when I tell her to stop doing something, and she continues to do it. It happens when she is being sassy or misbehaves at school or when she refuses to leave willingly when it’s time to go. It happens when SHE is tired and cranky, and it happens when I am tired and cranky. 

It’s like you take care of me, and then you yell at me.

Every time I yell, something inside of me aches. It’s almost like the yelling is sandpaper, scraping away at me from the inside. It never feels good. It never solves anything. It just hurts. And if it hurts me, I can’t even imagine what it’s doing to her. I imagine it’s more like an iceberg- a huge chunk of her self-confidence, her security, breaking off and sliding into the icy waters, never to be seen again. It hurts her. I hurt her.

It’s like you take care of me, and then you yell at me.

Sweet pea, sometimes I yell to keep you safe. To stop you from running out into the street. Sometimes I yell TO take care of you. You are so strong-willed and fiercely independent, but you are not even five yet. There is still so much for you to learn. I yell to remind you that you are not the boss…yet. You are not the one in charge…yet. Someday you will be, but for now, you have to remember your little place in this big world.

It’s like you take care of me, and then you yell at me.

Darling girl, I don’t want to break your spirit. I don’t want you to give up that iron will. I don’t want you to bend to every influence. I don’t want you to cave in to peer pressure. I want you to stand tall and believe that you are worthy. And when I yell, I take that away from you. I chip away at your nerve, your boldness, your bravery- when instead I should be praising your courage and celebrating your determination. I should be honoring your tenacity.

It’s like you take care of me, and then you yell at me.

I collected my darling girl in my arms and hugged her tight, wiped her tears. “Listen, my angel puff. Mama will always be here to take care of you. You will always be my little girl, and I will always love you. I’m sorry I yelled at you. Let’s both promise to do better, okay?”

She sniffled. Then, she smiled. “Okay, Mama.” 

And just like that, I am given a second chance. I don’t want to yell anymore. And this time, I really will try to do better.

She is worth it – every last ounce of her daring, fearless heart. 

The next time I yell, I hope it will be to tell her how proud I am of her. 

She deserves that.

Stephanie Kizziar
Stephanie was born, adopted, and raised in Lafayette. A proud LSU tiger grad, Stephanie serves as the Communications Manager for Vitalant (donate blood, y'all!) when she isn't single-handedly raising the 7-year-old future leader of the free world. During blissful moments of time to herself, she enjoys performing entire Broadway musicals alone in her car, drinking unreasonable amounts of coffee, and reminiscing on her days as a marathon runner. Steph is a terrible cook and hates to clean; however, she loves to entertain and is always ready to throw a party...as long as you promise not to look at her baseboards. She is constantly on the search for the balance between living a healthy lifestyle, eating her feelings, and being confident in her own skin.


  1. Nice post. As moms we ALL tend to yell from time to time. Btw, I read your bio and you are my kinda girl. I hate cooking too. Lol


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