Embracing confrontations

The other night I flew into a rage. I was so upset at my son that I had to leave the room. Still, I let him have it, voicing my disappointments loud enough for him to hear. He had done something so repeatedly that I questioned his conscience. When I returned to the room, I found him in tears, but I didn't comfort him. I couldn't yet - not when my boiling had only reduced to a simmer.

After getting more words of disappointment off my chest, I began to have a tingling of regret. Nonetheless, my ego wasn't about to retreat. I resisted going to him. Instead, I summoned him to myself and he dragged himself wearily in my direction. When he was near enough, still wearing my frown, I bit my tongue and held him. In my arms, his tears rolled down even faster. I remained angry but I knew not to let go.

Horrible thoughts raced through my mind - thoughts about his lack of consideration and selfishness, worries about him growing up with apathy towards what is clearly wrong, resentments that I had to do the hard job of instilling self-discipline while his father only had to engage in pleasantries for a few minutes each week, fears that I was probably not respected or loved by my son in comparison, concern that I had probably gone too far in my stinging words, worry that I might have pushed my son further away emotionally, doubt that I was being a good parent. Before long, I too began to shed tears.

He noticed, and in that moment a shift began. Our tears continued to flow for some minutes more, in silence; in acceptance. Then we began to talk to each other.

Still holding him, I asked him what the purpose was of doing what he had done so many times.  He told me it was because if he did what he was supposed to do, he would have missed out on some fun, but if he did what he did instead, he could have his fun before getting into trouble. We continued to chat and I learned some important information about my son's present needs. Within minutes, he held on to me tighter and I knew he had felt heard.

As his tired head nestled against my arm, my son's forgiveness of my rage was loud and clear, without him saying a word.  We were no longer just mother and son, but two humans respecting each other's fallibility. This made it easier for us both to then talk about alternative responsible actions and how to make amends for wrongs done without missing out on fun. We didn't let go of each other that night, right up until we were both fast asleep.  Isn't it said that the best part about having a fight is making up?

Confrontations in relationships are a bit like having pimples. When they surface, it doesn't look or feel nice. We get embarrassed by them and hope no one else notices. Yet a confrontation can bring up a lot that we have attempted to contain that really need a release. Many conflicts in a relationship occur as a result of either party or both feeling not accepted, respected, appreciated or understood. While the emotions can be raw and intense, paying attention to these unmet needs can be a way of discovering a deeper, healthier connection.