My Why -- No More "Loud Mouth" Shame

When I found this photograph, I hardly recognized myself.

This was not the little girl I remember being. This open, curious, feisty, wonder-filled facial expression was not one I remember wearing often.

My memory has been much more tinged with the anxiety and perfectionism that plagued my school years.

I alternately cringe and smile as I recall some of my coping mechanisms:

Tight belts.
Slicked/sprayed hair.
Academic achievement.
Emulating others’ styles.
Silence.
Literally worrying into the night about what I’d major in in college…while still in 4th grade.

My parents were supportive, loving, as available as they could be. Yet I have distinct memories of being scared of school, of wishing I could numb out and not experience any of it.

I wanted to sleep through it, basically, and then wake up when it was time to graduate.

How did I shift from that little girl in the photo… to what I just described?

I can’t pinpoint an exact moment, but one of my first school memories is a moment in first grade.

I can remember where in the classroom I was sitting. Another classmate had spoken out of turn.

Before I knew it, our teacher walked to the front of the room, turned to the board, drew a square box, drew a face with a large “O” mouth… and wrote “Loud Mouth” next to it.

I still remember the name of the classmate she wrote inside the box. It terrified me.

In all my school years I can remember maybe one time I ever got my name on the board myself; I was mostly too scared of that possibility to risk acting out.

But every school day I felt the shrapnel of my classmates getting in trouble. If any teacher scolded the class as a group, I felt it as though it was all aimed at me.

Why am I sharing this story?

Because no one would have been able to tell, from the outside, what I was experiencing. On parent-teacher conference days, I always got glowing, “she’s a pleasure to teach” sort of feedback.

I know there are so many other kids like I was who seem fine on the outside, who are objectively doing well academically, but whose beautiful sensitive intensity turns inward and doesn’t know how to be helpful to their body.

Even into my adulthood, I often felt threatened by any strong emotion, and would strive to stay even-keeled and neutral if possible.

I had been in therapy several times in my life — heck, I even have a therapist for a mother, I became a therapist myself… I had tried so many things and been to so much training over the years.

But learning the Nurtured Heart Approach® nearly a decade ago was (and continues to be) revolutionary to me. It was the first thing that really helped me know *what to do* with *any* emotional energy that showed up—positive or negative.

The Nurtured Heart Approach taught me that any arising emotional energy could become fuel for loving action, and that I could have a choice in what I did with that energy, even if I can’t control when it shows up.

I want to help families experience this paradigm shift. I want all families to flourish. Not just families with children who act out in big ways, but families with children whose intensity points inward.

Those kids may be compliant, but they need just as much help deeply knowing who they are and how they can wield their inner energy in beautiful, empowered ways.

Through the NHA®, I’ve been finding that little, wide-eyed, curious, daring girl inside me.

I now have potent, specific language through this approach, so I can give myself exactly what I wish the adults around me had the tools to give at the time.

Because that’s really what this story is all about— I’m not here to make anyone the villain. It’s just a matter of the tools everyone had available to them at the time, and I am so grateful for this particular toolbox, even a few decades “late” for me.

[Originally posted HERE]