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Episode 2 of 4 Anger was never my enemy · Back Porch Confessions

• Gravesb41: Sometimes my soul is just tired, tired of being strong, tired of carrying the heaviness, tired of fighting battles nobody else can see. And maybe you know that kind of tired too. The kind of tired that doesn't come from sleep, the kind of tired that settles deep in your heart, your mind and your spirit, the kind that comes from surviving, enduring, holding it all together and still showing up when your life had tried to take everything out of you. But here's the truth. Being tired does not mean you are weak, it does not mean you are broken, and it does not mean your story is over. At Renewed Mind we talk about the hard things, the hidden heaviness, the silent battles, the trauma, the grief, the healing, and the fight to keep going when your soul feels weary. This is the place where strong people can finally tell the truth, where healing gets honest, where pain is spoken out loud. And where the ones who have spent their whole lives pouring into others can find a space to breathe, be seen, and remember they are worth the battle too because sometimes the healer needs healing. Sometimes the strong ones need somewhere soft to land, and sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is admit you're tired and keep choosing to heal anyway. This is renewed mind, real talk, real pain, real healing. One honest conversation at a time. Hey beautiful people, it's Barbara here from Backport's Confessions. You know, I am only gonna share what I truly love. And y'all, this one's a game changer. Our Way Skin by AYXA is a simple, luxurious skincare created with real women in mind. Think clean ingredients, formulas you can see and feel, smoother texture, that healthy glow and confidence looking back at you in the mirror. Whether you're juggling family, work, or just need a little self-care moment, Ixa's products give you spa quality results right at home. I'm obsessed with Our Way Skin and the way it makes my skin feel buttery soft. Go check out Our Way Skin by Ixa at ourwayskin.com and tell them Barbara sent you because your skin deserves to be cared for your way. Welcome to Back Porch Confessions, where the sweet tea is strong, the stories are stronger, and no topic is too taboo for the porch. Grab a seat, kick off your shoes, and let's get into the kind of conversation your mama warned you about, but you listen anyway. Back Porch Confessions: Hey everybody, welcome to Back Porch Confessions. Thank you so much for being here. it's been kind of a ride trying to make it through this. this one is anger was never my enemy. if you've stayed with me through the first hour, thank you. because I know we went through some difficult places. We visited little boys or girls inside of us, our little inner child. We've talked about lies that we've believed, I've believed. We talked about how children naturally assume they are the problem when adults around them fail to meet their emotional needs. It still happens. I still see it every day. Maybe for the first time some of you realized that, wow, I've spent my entire life trying to fix something that was never broken. Now I want to talk about something that so many of us have been taught to fear. Anger. I don't mean rage. I don't mean violence. I don't mean hatred. I see enough of that. I mean the anger that lives underneath decades of emotional pain. The anger that people tell you to just let go of. That this is The anger they tell you is keeping you stuck. The anger they shame you for feeling. I want to tell you something that completely changed my healing. My anger wasn't trying to destroy me. It was trying to protect me. And once I understood that, I stopped fighting it and I started listening to it. I started listening to it. Okay, like example yesterday. I got angry at something my husband said. And I slammed doors. What was the emotion that showed up before that? He saw me angry. People have seen me angry. They've never seen me hurt. Have you ever noticed something? People are usually very uncomfortable with anger. Not because they understand it, but because they misunderstand it. When someone sees you crying, they want to come comfort us, right? When someone sees us grieving, they want to give us a hug. When someone sees you depressed, if they notice. Sometimes they'll ask if you're okay. But anger? People want anger to disappear immediately. They want you to calm down. You're overreacting. You're just bitter. You need to forgive. You've got to let it go. But what if instead of asking us to stop being angry, someone had simply asked, Tell me what happened? Imagine how different our lives might have been. If someone had been curious instead of critical, if instead of judging the behavior, they became curious about the pain beneath it. Because here's what I've learned. Anger is almost never the first emotion. I'm gonna read that again. Anger is almost never the first emotion. Y'all, I have that bold printed. In my notes, because it is so important to understand that there's almost always something underneath it: fear, loneliness, abandonment, rejection, humiliation, powerlessness, grief, disappointment, hopelessness. I could go on and on. There's so many layers of things that can be underneath that anger. The anger is simply the Bodyguard standing in front of those emotions. Think of it like an iceberg. I want you to picture an iceberg floating in the ocean. You know, the part that we see. It's actually very small. So most of the iceberg is underneath the water, right? So anger works the exact same way. What people see is only the tip of the surface. They see someone snapping. They see irritability, sarcasm, defensiveness, frustration. They see someone who seems very difficult. But underneath, there's a mountain they never see. Years of rejection, childhood loneliness, feeling invisible, walking on eggshells, being blamed for everything, never feeling safe, always trying to earn love. Always trying to prove your worth, feeling abandoned, unwanted, feeling like your voice never mattered. Most people judge the tip of the iceberg without ever looking beneath the surface. Does that sound like you? Are you the tip? Are you the judger? Have you been both in your life? Because I know I have. How many times have people judged your anger without ever asking you about your pain? Maybe it was your spouse, your family, friends, church people. I've even had a counselor question it. Maybe they only saw the symptoms, not the injury. The inner child wasn't angry. My inner child wasn't angry. She was heartbroken. Here's something that hit me one day, not long ago, really. I wasn't born angry. Neither were you. Think about babies. Babies weren't born carrying resentment. They weren't born bitter. They weren't born believing they're unlovable. So somewhere along the way, life happened. Life be life and right? And that little girl's heart began collecting experiences. Your inner child's heart began collecting experiences. Like rejection, criticism, every broken promise, every unanswered need, every lonely birthday, and believe me, I had several. My dad, I don't think, ever told me happy birthday. He's past now, so we can't really talk to him about it. And my mom never remembers except for now, she can put it in her phone as a reminder. Isn't that a blessing? Every forgotten accomplishment, every silent treatment. Every time you wondered why am I not enough? The heartbreak kept growing. But here's the problem children don't know what to do with heartbreak. They don't have the emotional vocabulary that adults do. I didn't have the emotional vocabulary. So instead the nervous system adapts. And sometimes that nervous system will cry. Sometimes it freezes, sometimes it becomes people pleasers, sometimes it gets angry. Not because anger was the goal, but because anger felt stronger than helplessness. Helplessness is one of the hardest emotions to carry. Think about it. Let's talk about helplessness. Imagine being six years old. You can't leave. You can't change your parents. You can't make them healthier. You can't focus or force, rather. I don't know. You can't focus, get them to focus on you, is what I'm trying to say. You can't make them notice you, I guess. You can't ex escape. You can't make them love you. You can't escape. You're completely dependent on the very people who are hurting you. You are completely dependent on them. That's helplessness. Now ask yourself, how long can a child live feeling completely powerless? The brain answers not very long. So it creates protection. Sometimes the protection becomes perfectionism. Sometimes it becomes emotional numbness. Sometimes it becomes anxiety. Sometimes it becomes people pleasing. But sometimes it becomes anger. Because anger feels powerful. Powerlessness feels terrifying. Think about that. Maybe your anger won't. actually hurt someone. It wasn't trying to actually hurt someone. Maybe it was just trying to make sure you never felt powerless again. Trauma changes the brain. This is something I wish every survivor understood. Trauma isn't simply something that happened to you. Trauma changes how your brain interprets the world. So when you've experienced chronic emotional pain, what happens? Your brain becomes incredibly efficient at scanning for danger. I am way efficient for that. I have to sit in the corner of the store or wherever. I have to be watching my surroundings. It's like living with an overly sensitive smoke detector. It goes off over burnt toast. Because somewhere in the past, there really was a fire. The brain doesn't ask. Is this exactly like childhood? They just simply ask, does this feel familiar? That's why your husband forgetting to text you back equates to you feeling abandoned. That's why when you get constructive criticism at work can feel like you're twelve years old again. That's why when someone raising their voice at you can make your entire body shut down. Can anybody relate with that? I can. Your body isn't reacting only to today. It's reacting to every yesterday that felt like the same. It's the familiar. So let's just I know I've been rattling very fast and rapid fire. Let me slow it down just a little bit. I want you to think about the last time you became angry. Yesterday was for me. not just irritated, really angry. Now ask yourself, what happened right before the anger? Did you feel ignored? Did you feel misunderstood? Embarrassed, rejected. Who was it? What emotion was there? Was it controlled? You did feel controlled? Disrespected? Powerless? Invisible? What emotion came first? 'Cause I can promise you that anger wasn't the first visitor. It was the one that showed up to protect protect the other emotions. It was the protection. I spent years apologizing for being angry, prayed about my anger. I judged myself because of my anger. I wondered if I as a Christian was failing because of my anger. I still questioned myself. Yesterday I was like, this is not how he would want me to be acting. I wondered if something inside of me was simply bad. I even had that discussion with my husband yesterday. The reason I slammed the doors is because I have to vent my anger some way because I know me, I can get two bad thoughts. But I can tell you what I believe now. God wasn't afraid of my anger. He isn't afraid of my anger. He already knows why it's there. He knows the little girl behind it. He knows the tears I never cried. He knows the words I never spoke. He knows the nights I've questioned my worth. He knows every moment. But I wondered. If my mother couldn't love me. Why would anyone else? God wasn't waiting for me to become less emotional before he loved me. He was inviting me to bring my emotions to him, even the messy ones, the uncomfortable ones, the angry ones. Because healing doesn't begin when you pretend we're okay. Healing begins when we finally can be honest enough to admit I'm hurting. that part is hard for me. If your anger could tell its story, what would it say? What would it tell you about the inner child who felt invisible? What would it tell you about the woman who never stopped trying to earn love? What would it tell you? Would it tell you how exhausted it is from carrying pain that never belonged to you? Or would it simply whisper? I've been protecting you the only way I know how. Kinda heavy. Can be very heavy. Now I'm gonna kind of delve into explore a healthy anger, a healthy anger versus unhealed rage, because they're not the same thing. And once you understand the difference, you'll stop fearing your emotions and start understanding them. If your anger could tell its story, what would it say? Have any of you answered that question yet? Maybe some of you have. Maybe some of you immediately shut down with the question alone. And if you did, I understand. I do. Because many of us were raised to believe that certain emotions were unacceptable. And others were not. Joy acceptable. Gratitude? Absolutely. Love, of course. Sadness? Only for a little while. Fear? Do not let anyone see it. And anger? Well, good people aren't supposed to be angry, right? Especially if you grew up in church. How many times have we heard you just need to forgive? Bitterness is a sin. Don't let the sun go down on your anger. I mean, those are real biblical principles. But somewhere along the way, many people have interpreted those verses to mean don't feel angry. That's not what Scripture teaches. The Bible doesn't say you'll never feel anger. It teaches us what to do with it. Even Jesus experienced righteous anger. The question has never been, do you feel anger? The question is what is your anger leading you to do? Because anger itself isn't automatically destructive. It's what you do with the anger that determines whether it becomes healing or harm. And that's where rage comes in. Separate the two words that often get lumped together. When they're not anger and rage, they're not the same thing. They're not. Healthy anger says a boundary was crossed. Something isn't right. Someone has been hurt. Something needs to change. That's healthy anger. Rage. Rage says, I carried this pain for so long that it is overflowing. Healthy anger protects. Rage explodes. Healthy anger communicates. Rage attacks. I attacked yesterday. Healthy anger seeks healing. Rage often seeks relief. Am I say that again? Healthy anger seeks healing. Rage often seeks relief. Can you hear the difference? One is trying to solve the problem. While the other one is what? Trying to survive the pain. Now hear me carefully, please. I'm not condemning people who have experienced rage because I have. I will say it. I will admit it. I own my own crap. Rage doesn't usually come from nowhere though. Rage is often years, sometimes decades, I mean decades of unhealed pain finally finding a voice. It's the volcano after years of pressure. It's the dam that's finally breaking. It's the nervous system saying, I cannot carry this one more day. Picture like a pressure cooker sitting on the stove. Every disappointment adds pressure. Every rejection adds pressure. Every betrayal, every insult adds pressure. Every moment of emotional neglect, swallowing your feelings, adds pressure. Every time someone tells you you're overreacting, more pressure. You're too sensitive. Add in some more pressure. Just get over it. Let's put a little more pressure on that. Stop talking about the past. More pressure. Eventually, what's gonna happen to that pressure cooker? The pressure cooker, what? If you've ever dealt with that, the pressure cooker has to release something. It's gonna release steam in order to release the the libuff, right? If it doesn't, it's going to explode. That's emotional suppression. That's what it does. Many of us were taught emotional regulation. We were taught emotional, well, we weren't taught emotional regulation. I don't remember what I just said there, but we were not taught emotional regulation. Didn't even know what it was, never heard the words. We were taught emotional suppression. We were taught to stuff it down. There's a huge difference between suppression says. Don't feel it. Regulation says feel it safely. Suppression says, stuff it down. Regulation says, let's understand what's happening inside. We can't, you can't, heal emotions you never allowed yourself to feel. So when you don't allow yourself to feel it, what happens? Anger becomes your identity, right? I think this is where we get stuck at some point. Our anger stops being something we experience and it starts becoming who we think we are. We begin introducing ourselves to ourselves like this. I'm just an angry person. I I see my oldest son do it. I've always had a temper. It's just who I am. No. No. That's not who you are. That's how you've learned to survive. There is a difference. Think about all the labels we've accepted over the years. Difficult, emotional, cray cray, too much, moody, hotheaded, argumentative. I was called motor mouth, argumentative. those label become Those labels, all of them, become prisons. And eventually we stop asking if they're even true. But what if? Just what if. You're not an angry woman or man. What if you're you're just a deeply wounded human person, woman, man? Who spent decades protecting yourself? That feels different, doesn't it? It just feels different. One invites shame when the other one it invites compassion. Something we we don't have for ourselves. We weren't taught to have self compassion. What is anger trying to accomplish? I don't know. I became more curious about that as I studied. So when we're in the moment or or in the moment with somebody that's that's being very angry, rageful, instead of asking Why are they so angry? When you're there, instead of asking, why am I so angry? Ask instead, what was my anger hoping? Would happen? What is the anger hoping would happen? Maybe the anger wanted someone to finally listen. Maybe it wanted someone to finally believe in you. I don't know, maybe it wanted justice of some sort. I know that's with some of the people that are in my rooms. Maybe it wanted protection, acknowledgement. Maybe it wanted someone to just say, What happened to you wasn't okay. You know what's amazing? Sometimes that's all we've ever needed. Not someone to fix it, not someone to erase it, just someone willing to say, I believe you. What should never have happened to you happened, and I'm sorry. I believe you. You deserved better. Validation is so powerful. But we're not taught to give it. We're taught to give shame. Validation is powerful. It tells our nervous system that we're not cray cray, that your pain makes sense, that your feelings have a reason behind them. There's a grocery store analogy that I'm gonna use. You guys are probably gonna get tired of analogies, but I want you to imagine something. Say you're standing in the line at the grocery store. The cashier seems irritated, someone cuts in front of you, your heart starts racing, your shoulders tighten. You immediately feel defensive. I feel my teeth just my jaw glitches. Now someone else standing behind you might think, wow, she's overreacting. But they didn't see what your nervous system saw. Your nervous system wasn't seeing the grocery store. It was seeing every moment in your life when you felt disrespected. Every moment you felt invisible. Every moment your voice didn't matter. The grocery store wasn't the trigger. It was the reminder. That's why healing isn't about pretending nothing bothers us. I had a friend recently say that that's what their daughter said. I'm just gonna stuff it down. I don't think she really meant that, but maybe she did. no. Healing isn't about pretending nothing bothers us. Healing is learning to recognize. Right? This feeling is familiar. When have I felt this before? Okay. So if you've felt this before, you can identify the feeling when you're in that moment in the grocery store. And you can calm yourself from that. Not somebody else telling you to be calm. You can calm yourself. Because what you're feeling now was from the past and not what's really happening now in front of you. Let's do something together. If you are driving, wait and do this later. But if you have the ability to close your eyes if you can, take one slow breath. Deep cleansing breath. Now think of a recent moment when you became angry. Freeze that moment. Now rewind. What happened in that moment? What did you feel? Were you embarrassed? Did you feel rejection? Did you feel ashamed? Dismissed? Powerless? Lonely? What emotion came before your anger? Because that's where healing begins. Not with a reaction, but with a recognition of where the wound is. The wound, where is it? That's where healing begins. I remember the day that I stopped trying to get rid of my anger. It wasn't because my life suddenly got easier. Believe me it hasn't. You've been following me long enough, you know. It wasn't because people suddenly apologized. It wasn't because my past changed. It's not gonna. It was finally because I understood something. My anger wasn't proof that I was broken. My anger isn't proof I'm broken. It's proof that somewhere inside of me there is an inner child, a little girl, just waiting to be heard. And instead of telling her to quiet down, I finally just sat beside her. I listened. I cried with her. I mourned with her. I acknowledged her. I stopped calling myself too much. I stopped calling myself unworthy of being loved. And for the first time in my life For the first time in my life, that inner child didn't have to scream to get my attention. Maybe healing isn't learning how to stop feeling. Maybe healing is finally becoming safe enough to feel honestly. Because emotions are not enemies. They're messengers. And messengers don't arrive to destroy us. They arrive because something inside of us is asking to be seen. Difference between holding someone accountable and carrying them on your back for the rest of your life? That's what I want to talk about. Can you hold someone accountable without carrying them forever forever? That's where I want to go from here. Is it possible? It is. Is it hard? It absolutely is. So I want this next part. I wanna start it with a sentence that completely changed the way I looked at healing. Holding someone accountable is not the same thing as carrying them. I'm going to say that one more time because I think some of us need to to let that sink in. Holding someone accountable. It's not the same thing as carrying them. For years I carried people. I carried their choices. I carried their words. I carried their rejection. I carried their silence, their failures. I carried their inability to love me. I carried every name they called me, every broken promise. I carried it. I carried every I'm sorry that never came. And somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that carrying all of that was somehow my responsibility. Can anybody relate to that? How many of you have spent years carrying things that never belong to you? Not because you wanted to, but because nobody ever told you that you could put them down. Picture this. Imagine. That every painful experience you've ever had is packed into one suitcase, or maybe several. Let's go with the several analogy because you know I my brain is spinning here. One suitcase isn't gonna be enough for most of us Gen Xers or anybody before. So one suitcase is gonna be for rejection, right? And then another suitcase is gonna say abandonment. And then another one is gonna be like not good enough. And then you got the shame suitcase. You got the fear suitcase. Then you have I have to earn love suitcase. Now imagine you've been dragging all of those suitcases behind you for 40 or 50 years. Every relationship, you drag them with you. Into every marriage, you dragged it with you. Every friendship, every shipship you've ever been on, you dragged it with you. Every job. Drag with you. Every birthday, holiday, family gathering. You just drag it with you. After a while, you don't even notice the weight anymore. Like the backpack. You've become so used to carrying it. That you assume that's just life. But what if it isn't? What if life was never meant to be lived carrying someone else's emotional baggage? It wasn't. There's a difference between responsibility and ownership. One of the greatest lessons I've ever learned was just because someone handed me sorry, handed me something, my brain was having a pause. Didn't mean I had to keep holding it. Think about that. As children. We don't have a choice. If a parent tells us we're lazy, we believe it. If a parent tells us we're selfish, we believe it. If a parent tells us we're difficult, we believe it. Children don't have filters. They absorb, right? Adults get to evaluate. Adults get to ask, is this actually true? Just because someone called you something doesn't make it your identity. Just because someone failed to love you doesn't make you unlovable. Just because someone abandoned you doesn't mean you weren't worth staying for. There are two completely different things right there. Children don't know that though. Children personalize everything. You personalized everything. Adults have the opportunity to reexamine everything, but they don't always do it. So when we carry someone else's story. It becomes a heavy weight. Whose voice lives in your head? Do you have a voice that lives in your head? Poor Tina, my voice lives in her head. But think about it. When you make a mistake, whose voice do you hear? When you look in the mirror, whose words come back to you? When you're exhausted, overwhelmed, afraid, whose criticism criticism echoes the loudest? Who is it? Sometimes Sometimes we're not living our own story anymore. Sometimes we're living someone else's opinion of us. And that's heartbreaking. Because opinions. Are not truths. They're just perspective. One of my favorite sayings is everyone has an opinion. Mm-hmm. Everyone has also an a hole. Everyone has one, but they usually stink. So an opinion is nothing but their perspective, someone's inability to see your worth. their inability to see your worth comes along, it doesn't erase your worth. It reveals their limitations. I must say that again. Opinions are their perspectives, like a holes. Everybody's got one and it usually stinks. But someone's inability to see your worth doesn't erase your worth. It only reveals their limitations, not yours. So why do we keep carrying it? Here's a question that I often get asked. Barbara. If it hurts so much, why don't people just let it go? I hate that question. I think it's because letting go feels scary. Not because we love the pain. Because the pain becomes familiar. Our nervous system often chooses what's familiar. So you have to retrain it. It chooses the familiar over what's healthy. Think about that. Every unhealthy relationship can feel safer than a healthy one. If unhealthy is all you've ever known. Think about that again. Unhealthy relationships can feel safe. Because the unhealthy is what you are familiar with. It's what your nervous system is familiar with. Even chaos can become comfortable when peace feels unfamiliar. I have someone that I current currently talk to that lives in chaos every day. She's trying to get her way out of it, but she she's stuck in it. And and I know that part of it's because she just physically can't move, but because She feels safe being there. Whether she wants to admit that or not, there's a bit of safety there, or was. I think she's growing out of that. Anyway, so the chaos became comfortable. Peace felt unfamiliar. So you remain stuck until you decide to not be stuck. That's why healing often feels so uncomfortable. You're teaching your brain. That peace is safe. You're teaching your heart that love doesn't always have to hurt. You're teaching your nervous system that calm doesn't mean something bad is about to happen. Because that's usually trauma survivors are usually bracing for something. Your nervous system is already bracing when calm happens. That's hard work, but it's beautiful work. When you allow yourself to climb out of that pit that the nervous system has you stuck in. And you realize that calm isn't bad. And you can move over to the side of peace, away from what's familiar. To find yourself again is hard work, but it's beautiful, it's amazing, and it's so worth it. I did the backpack exercise with the last one, I'm pretty sure. But if you're driving, I just want you to listen to what I'm saying right now. If you're sitting somewhere quietly, I want you to close your eyes again for a moment and take a few short breaths. We're going to go through the whole backpack thing again. So imagine you're wearing this backpack, right? It's been on your shoulder for decades. Inside that backpack is every hurt, disappointment, rejection. Cruel words, disappointment, lonely night, abandonment, unanswered prayers. Every time you questioned your worth, every time somebody else questioned your worth. Everything, all the aches, all the pains, it's all in there. Feel how heavy it is? Remember how heavy our backpacks were back in the eighties? Remember how heavy that was? Notice how your shoulders ache, how they ached then. We put the little pits in our arms. Notice how tired you are. Now imagine setting that backpack on the ground. It's such a relief to put it on the ground, right? Not because those things that are in that backpack never happened. They did. Not because they didn't matter. They mattered deeply. You were never meant to carry them forever. You were never meant to carry them forever. Now unzip that backpack. Pull out one at a time, one item at a time, one rejection at a time, one pain at a time, one shame at a time. Maybe it is shame. You look at it, hold it in your hands, and you ask yourself. Who does this belong to? Or does it belong to the adult who failed the child? Now gently place it down. Next palau rejection. Who owns that? This the child? The Jew? Or does it belong to the one who withheld the love? and place it down. Now let's pull out guilt. Does it really belong to you? Or were you carrying responsibility for things you never had the power to control? One by one, lay them down. Don't rush. Some of us have been carrying these things for fifty years. We're allowed to take our time. If you need to pause it here, finish unpacking that backpack, please do so. 'Cause I'm gonna go into the freedom of saying that wasn't mine from here. I hope you guys had taken the time to look at your life in all of these podcasts. Really taking an inventory of things. I remember the first time I actually looked at my life and realized some of what I've been carrying, and I still have these moments when I figure something out I've been carrying that's not mine. Those things are never mine. They didn't belong to me. That realization is overwhelming when it happens. When you have those aha moments, you're like, wow, I gotta let this go. This really wasn't for me to carry. Wasn't yours. Why had I carried it for so long? Why do you carry it for so long? Then I realized because nobody ever told me I could put it down. Nobody ever told me to stop carrying the weight that it wasn't mine. I'm here to tell you it's not yours. Put it down. I'm telling you, you can put it down. You don't have to carry your mother's inability to nurture. You don't have to carry your father's absence. You don't have to carry your family's dysfunction. You don't have to carry someone else's addiction, alcoholism. You don't have to carry someone else's emotional immaturity. You don't have to carry their refusal to apologize. Or they apologize and remake, like my mother. You don't have to carry what they refused to own. That's their work. That's her work. My work, your work, it's healing. That's our work. Stop it. Sorry guys. Hope you weren't concentrating. I have a dog trying to get in the room. I want you to finish this sentence. Out loud if you can. No. I have been carrying and fill in the blank. Maybe it's rejection. Maybe it's fear. Maybe it's anger, guilt, loneliness, powerlessness. Now I want you to say this. Today I recognize it. I honor what it has cost me. But I no longer believe I have to carry it forever. I'm gonna say that again and repeat with me, today I recognize it. I honor what it has cost me, but I no longer believe I have to carry it forever. That was so good. In the next section I want to go over something pretty important. I want to talk about what it actually means to give anger back. Not by denying it, not by pretending it didn't exist, but by thanking it, honoring it, and lovingly releasing what no longer serves me. That is where peace begins. It really is. I know that I am proud of every single one of you. I really am. Not because you've done anything extraordinary today. I haven't. But because healing requires courage, insightfulness, real courage. Not the kind of courage that climbs a mountain. I'm talking about the kind of courage that sits alone with yourself, looks at old wounds, and decides. I'm ready to stop surviving. That kind of courage changes lives. Maybe we've been fighting the wrong battle. Let me let my dog in. Hold on. Where is your dad? Get in there. He's in here now. Always some kind of distraction. Got an office and I still can't get peace. Anyway, for years I believed the battles was against my my anger. Come on. He knows I'm mad. Come on. Here, here. such a big baby. You know, I I believe that if I could just stop being angry, that I'd finally have peace. If I could just forgive faster. I'd finally just be healed magically somehow. You know, i if I could just stop thinking about my childhood. Stuff it away, right? Everything would just magically get better. Just put it behind me, stuff it in that backpack. but actual healing is not pretending the past didn't happen. Healing is changing the relationship that you have. With what happened. There's a huge difference. Because the past, it can't be rewritten. But the story we tell ourselves about the past, it can. For years my story sounded like my mother didn't love me because I wasn't enough. I was not worthy of being loved. There was something wrong with me. Today, my story sounds different. My mother couldn't give me what she herself was never given. She may never have learned to give love. Do you hear the difference? One story blames the child. The other places responsibility where it belongs. That doesn't excuse harmful behavior. I'm not saying that. Many of you who follow me know that. It simply removes false responsibility from the child who carried it. Anger Anger was carrying my voice. My anger had become my voice. It spoke every word I was too afraid to say and It cried every tear I refused to cry. It stood up for me when I didn't know how to stand up for myself. It protected me when I didn't feel protected. It reminded me that something inside of me knew I deserved better. To say something that might surprise you a little. I'm actually grateful for my anger. I know that sounds strange. You're probably thinking she's done fell off the cuckoo bus. But hear me out. I'm not grateful for what caused it. I'm grateful that some part of me refused to completely die. Some part of me kept saying, This isn't okay. You deserved love. You deserve safety. You deserve respect. And that voice. Was my anger. And without realizing it, it protected the little girl inside of me until the grown woman was finally strong enough to protect herself. Then one day I had to stop calling myself broken. Max. Remember looking in the mirror one morning, not at my physical being. I don't like looking in the mirror at myself. Emotionally. I remember looking at myself emotionally and asking myself, what if nothing has ever been wrong with me? That shook me the first time I ever asked me that question. Cause I've asked plenty of people I've counseled over my life, but I've never asked me. Because if nothing was wrong with me, then why had I spent my entire life trying to fix myself? Maybe I wasn't broken. Maybe I was wounded. There's a difference. Broken things need replacing, right? Wounded things need healing. Enough. Broken things often get thrown away. Wounded things deserve care. Okay? So I felt broken. I felt like my parents threw me away. My family. But I was just wounded. I deserve to be cared for. Broken says there's no hope. Healing says recovering is possible. So I want you guys to hear when I say you're not broken. You've been wounded. And wounds heal differently than breaks, right? Some heal quickly, some heal slowly, some leave scars. But scars don't mean you're still bleeding. Scars are evidence that your body refused to quit healing. So in this part, if you're driving, just listen. If you're somewhere quiet, or if you can get somewhere quiet when when this part is coming, go ahead and pause until you're in a quiet spot. Again I want you to close your eyes and take a slow breath. Now imagine standing in front of yourself. Not the adult version, but the little one. You're standing there, maybe you're six, eight, twelve. Notice your face. Notice your eyes. No s notice how tired you look. You've been carrying something that was never yours, even then. Now walk toward yourself slowly. Don't rush. You've waited a lifetime for someone to come back. Now kneel down beside you, take your hand, and simply say, I've been looking for you. I'm so sorry you had to carry this by yourself. I know you've been angry. I know you've been lonely. I know you've wondered why you weren't enough. I know you've blamed yourself. But know that none of this was your fault. And let those words fall on the heart. Because We may never have heard them before. You may never have had anyone come back for you. Now I want you to imagine. Imagine that little girl or boy holding something. Maybe it's a heavy stone. Maybe it's a suitcase or a backpack. Whatever it looks like to you, that's the anger she's been carrying. Not because she wanted to. Because she thought someone had to. Because you thought someone had to carry it. Look at yourself. Look at her. Look at him. Smile gently and say, thank you. Yes, thank your anger. Hmm. Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for helping me survive. Thank you for reminding me that what happened mattered. Thank you for refusing to let my heart completely shut down. But you don't have to carry this anymore. You're grown now. I know how to protect us. I know how to set boundaries. I know how to walk away from unhealthy people. I know how to say no. I know how to choose peace. You can rest now. Can you imagine what you as a little girl or boy might would feel? Probably confusion, maybe relief, sadness, tears, tears of hope. Whatever comes, let it come. Healing doesn't have a schedule. It doesn't. Healing doesn't have a schedule. So sometimes I get the question that if I heal, if I forgive, does that mean I'll forget? Absolutely not. Absolutely not. Come on, buddy. Come on. Healing isn't amnesia all of a sudden. Healing isn't pretending. It isn't minimizing. Healing is remembering without reliving. Hear that. Healing is remembering without reliving. That's different. Today I can tell my story without my nervous system believing that it's happening now. It's happening again. Now I have my moments. I had one not long ago. But today I can remember without becoming trapped. Today I can acknowledge acknowledge what happened without allowing it to define who I am. So can you. That is freedom. So make the next fifty years mean something. And that's what I'm doing here. Earlier I've shared something that has become my promise to myself. The next fifty years belong to me. I don't mean I'm becoming selfish. I mean I'm becoming healthy. For so many years I gave pieces of myself away trying to earn love. Trying to earn approval, trying to earn acceptance, trying to earn something that should have never required earning. Not anymore. The next fifty years belong to peace, belong to boundaries, belong to authenticity, to laughter, to back porch confessions, to coffee shops, to healthy relationships, to my golden girls. He belongs to purpose, to freedom. He belongs to a happy marriage. He belongs to healthy family. belongs to the woman that the little girl deserved to become. I want you to think about a few things before I end this. Journal them, sit with them. Don't just rapid-fire question answer. What have I been carrying that never belonged to me? Write it down. Write it down somewhere. Tap it in your notes, voicemail, whatever you gotta do. What have I been carrying that never belonged to me? Who taught me I wasn't enough? Or there was something wrong with me. Who taught me I wasn't Nef? Or something was wrong with me? Do I still believe it? Do I still believe that? What would change if I no longer believed it? What has my anger been trying to protect? Am I ready to thank it? Instead of judging it? What would peace actually feel like in my body? Not in my circumstances, but in my body. Can I imagine waking up one day without needing to prove my worth, without needing to earn love, without needing to explain myself, without carrying yesterday into today? That's what healing offers, not protection, peace. For years I thought my anger was ruining my life. Now I know was simply trying to save it. It stood guard while I was too young to protect myself. It carried pain that no child should ever have to carry. It whispered You matter even when no one else did. And today I Instead of hating that part of myself, I honor it. I thank it. And then I lovingly lay it down. Because survival got me here. But survival isn't where I'm staying. I'm choosing healing. I'm choosing peace. I'm choosing me. And maybe just maybe you're ready to choose you two. Thank you for spending your time with me. Mm not on the porch again. One of these days I'll actually get out on the porch. I'll see you next time. Part three of the part four. We will begin one of the deepest conversations of this entire series. Hour three Mourning the Mother I Never Had Because sometimes the hardest grief isn't losing someone or It's grieving the love you should have received but never did. Until next time, keep healing, keep growing, and never forget you were never hard to love. Thank you all. Gravesb41: If you're looking for beautiful, meaningful, and custom-made creations that tell a story, Little Butterfly Design and Print is where creativity and compassion come together. Cheryl specializes in personalized designs that celebrate life's most important moments, from custom shirts and prints to heartfelt gifts, memorial pieces and unique creations made just for you. Every design is crafted with intention, care, and a personal touch that you can feel. Whether you're honoring a loved one, supporting a cause, building your brand, or simply want something one of a kind, Cheryl brings your vision to life in a way that feels truly special. Little Butterfly Design and Print isn't just a business. It's a reminder that even the smallest ideas can transform into something beautiful. Support a small business that pours love into every detail. Find Little Butterfly Design and Print by Cheryl A. Harlan online and see how she can create something meaningful just for you. Y'all, let me tell you about one of my favorite little gyms back home in Robinson, Illinois. If you're looking for boutique style that feels good, fits right, and doesn't break the bank, you have to stop by Polished Boutique, owned by my sweet friend, Mindy, and her two friends, Jennifer and Valerie. And it's ran with heart, y'all. Polished is one of those places where you're not just shopping, you're family. From on-trend outfits, cozy everyday staples, statement accessories, and deals that make your wallet smile, Polished has something for every woman, every season of life. So if you're anywhere near Robinson, Illinois, go see Mindy and her girls at Polished Boutique. Tell them Back porch confession sent you. And don't be surprised if you leave feeling a little more confident than when you walked in. Polished Boutique, where style meets heart. That's a wrap on this episode of Back Porch Confessions. Where the tea is hot, the stories are real, and we never apologize for keeping it honest. Produced and edited by the magic makers over at Zay Media. Until next time, keep your porch talk spicy and your secrets safe, mostly.