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Notes From the Queen's Castle
Julie Donner Anderson
“SHOW ME THE
BEAST!”
An article by Julie Donner Andersen
Author
of “PAST: Perfect!PRESENT:
Tense! Insights From
One Woman’s Journey As The Wife Of A Widower”
http://www.weyantpress.com/andersen.htm
Early
in my career as a mother, I recall a precise moment in time where I
stood, wagging a digit at my then 4 year old daughter for breaking a
treasured cut glass vase as she bounced a forbidden basketball in
the family room. I yelled at the top of my lungs in absolute
frustration and anger like a crazed Tazmanian she-devil.
And
as I raged on and on, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window
beside me. It was not a
pretty sight. My face
was all snarled up like a twisted pretzel.
My hands were shaking and fisted, taking on the appearance of
a prizefighter’s. I took a step backward and then forward again just to make
sure it was me I was seeing, and not some half-crazed serial killer.
All that misplaced rage - and for what?
A piece of broken glass?
That
vase was not the only thing shattered on that day. So was my daughter’s heart.
Remember
the Disney™ movie,
“Beauty and the Beast”? Do
you recall the part where the heroine, Belle, was defending her ugly
friend to the town’s people as they threatened to kill him?
Belle pleaded with the crowd, telling them that her friend
may indeed look terrifying, but he was really sweet and kind on the
inside. She then held
up a magic mirror and begged it, “Show me the beast!”
The reflection showed a growling, hysterical creature with
matted hair and sharp, glowing fangs. I’m sure it was hard for the throngs of fearful people to
imagine that the beast ever had a heart at all, and they were more
afraid than ever.
As
I peered at my reflection in the window on the day of the broken
vase incident, all I saw was the Beast…and she frightened me.
Was this the same woman who sang lullabyes and baked brownies
in an Easy-Bake oven? Looking
into my daughter’s tear-stained face, I realized at that very
moment, the Beast was also the same image my daughter saw as I
screamed at her, and it changed me for life.
It was the last time I ever raised my voice to a decibel that
would deafen a dog.
To
live in fear is to forever cast doubt on trust. Children who grow up in a hostile environment usually end up
with very low self-esteem. For
them, hostility, and even violence, become the only familiar answers
to life’s problems. These
same children also learn that the fallout of fear is resentment, and
end up confused and outcast when faced with social situations.
They balk at authority and wind up as disagreeable loners who
cannot seem to make it in the real world.
When
we scream in anger at our children, we make them fearful of the
beast inside of us – the one that teeters on the edge of losing
control and threatens our children’s very basic feelings of
security, self worth, and trust.
In a child’s eyes, the image of a sweet, loving mother is
replaced by an image of a monstrous, hideous stranger – a beast.
This hairy animal is not someone we, as parents, are proud
of. Sometimes we barely
recognize the monster within, since it only comes out of its cave
once in awhile. But we
should know it well, for it behooves us as responsible parents to
take a good, hard look at our own anger and soften the lines around
its face when we are dealing with our children.
Before it has a chance to scar our children for life, we need
to wrestle it back into its cage, lock the door, and throw away the
key…forever.
Knowing
the scary but true statistics about children of a hostile
upbringing, we need our own magic mirrors to show us the beast
within, so we can make a concerted effort to change our
fear-inducing parental reactions.
We have a responsibility to act humanely and sensitively when
we are frustrated by our children’s mistakes.
And, most importantly, we need to constantly remember that a
simple vase is nothing compared to the treasure of our children’s
love and trust.
(Copyright
2002 Julie Andersen. All
rights reserved.)
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