What Anger Is Really Trying to Say: A Couples Story

This week, I want to share the story of a couple, Abraham and Shoshana. Their names have been changed to protect their privacy.

A Morning of Unusual Heaviness

Abraham and Shoshana walked into my clinic one morning looking more downcast than I had ever seen them. I had been working with them for several months, and although their process had included challenges, I had never encountered them in such a low emotional state.

Shoshana was the first to speak.

“Abraham abandoned me during the holiday,” she said quietly. “He decided he needed to pray at the yeshiva where he studied in his youth, and I completely lost it.”

When the Holiday Fell Apart

“What do you mean by ‘lost it’?” I asked gently. “What happened?”

“I can’t remember a year when I had such a terrible Rosh Hashanah,” she replied. “I got angry and exploded at the kids again and again. I felt awful about myself. The smallest things threw me off balance. On the holiest day of the year, I ended up in places I never wanted to be.”

She paused, then continued.

“After every outburst, I promised myself it wouldn’t happen again. But not even half an hour passed before I found myself snapping at them all over again.”

“And don’t ask me what it was about,” she added. “I don’t really know. It was over the pettiest things. I honestly don’t understand why I reach these states. It feels like I’m losing control of myself.”

“It really isn’t easy,” I said, and I meant it. I could feel both her loneliness and her exhaustion as a mother.

Losing Control or Feeling Out of Control

When I sensed that Shoshana had calmed a little, I asked carefully, “You said it feels like you’re losing control with the kids. I’m curious why you said ‘feels like.’ Do you think you’re truly losing control, or is it something else?”

“That’s a good question,” Shoshana answered. “I honestly don’t know.”

“So what would change if you did know?” I asked, smiling softly.

She smiled back, understanding the direction of the question, and gathered the courage to look inward.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I think I prefer to escape the truth and tell myself I have no control. But we both know that kind of loss of control doesn’t happen in the women’s section of the synagogue. Somehow, inside this so called loss of control, there is actually a lot of control.”

A Difficult Truth

“I really appreciate your honesty,” I told her. “The willingness to face yourself instead of running away is not simple. Now I want to ask you something that takes even more courage.”

I paused, then asked, “Do you see a connection here? Is it possible that you’re trying to influence your husband through these outbursts with the children?”

Shoshana was quiet for several minutes. She thought carefully, then spoke.

“I’m ashamed to admit it,” she said, “but yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. When Abraham avoids helping or pulls away, I take it out on the kids. I use my anger to try to pull him back in.”

The Deeper Lesson

The continuation of their therapeutic process is not the focus here.

The central takeaway is this. Very often, we engage in emotional manipulation in an attempt to fulfill unmet needs. The ability to recognize this pattern is a profound gift.

There is also something equally important. The more a parent condemns herself for losing patience, the more those outbursts tend to repeat. Self rejection fuels the cycle.

It is דווקא the ability to receive oneself with honesty and compassion that creates change. When a person can understand herself rather than fight herself, the need for those explosive expressions begins to fade.

Rabbi Aryeh Ettinger is an advisor and the founder of a school for training couples counselors.