Emotional Outbursts and the Safety to Feel
It can be confronting when your child begins to unravel emotionally after separation. Maybe it starts small: irritability, resistance, mood swings. But then comes the outburst—in public, at school, in a restaurant. A wave of emotion that catches you off guard, and with it, an urge to control, to shut it down quickly. Often, it seems less about the child's behaviour and more about controlling the perception of others: What will people think of my parenting? What does this say about me? About them?
We forget that our children are not vessels of our identity. Their dysregulation is not a reflection of our worth. And yet, the social pressure, the fear of judgment, and our own unresolved emotional baggage can drive us to respond with irritation, even anger—adding more emotional chaos to an already overwhelmed child.
Children don’t need more instability when they’re already falling apart. They don’t need a parent who checks out or shuts down. What they need most is someone who stays—someone who says: "I may not understand exactly what you’re feeling right now, but I’m not leaving. We’ll figure this out together."
That’s the essence of emotional safety. Not fixing. Not suppressing. Just staying.
It’s worth asking ourselves in those moments: are we truly trying to support our child, or are we trying to manage our own discomfort? Too often, parents—especially during and after separation—are so enmeshed in regulating their own nervous system that they lose sight of their child's. This isn’t about blame. It’s about awareness. The reality is, we can’t be a stable container for our children if we’ve never had one ourselves. But that doesn’t mean we can’t become one.
I know it’s hard. I know there are times when keeping it all together feels impossible. And you won’t always get it right. That’s okay. What matters most is what you do next. When you get it wrong, acknowledge it. Say it out loud:
"You know, I made a mistake when I got frustrated and told you to stop crying. I didn’t stop to understand what you were going through. But I’m here now, and I want to listen."
These words don’t weaken your authority—they strengthen trust. They say to your child: “You are not alone in your feelings.” And with repetition, that message builds a sense of safety that lasts far beyond the moment.
I often think how differently we might relate to our children—and our partners—if we just remembered that everyone’s inner child is looking for the same thing: someone who doesn’t leave when things get hard. Someone stable. Someone who sees the messy emotions and doesn’t bolt.
Trust is born from consistency. Not perfection. And when you consistently show up, even after missteps, you show your child that they don’t need to perform, behave, or shrink their emotions to earn love. You say: "You can come to me. It’s safe to be yourself."