I didn’t have a yelling problem—but like most parents, I definitely felt the pull to raise my voice.

And sometimes… I did yell.
When I did, I felt really bad about it—because that wasn’t the mother I wanted to be.

Raising my voice didn’t align with how I saw myself or how I wanted my child to experience me. I wanted to be calm, grounded, loving. So when yelling happened, it felt heavier than the moment itself—it felt like a disconnect from my values.

Learning from Laura Markham changed the way I understood those moments—and myself.

She helped me see that yelling isn’t a moral failure or a personality trait. It’s a nervous system response. When we’re overwhelmed, overstimulated, rushed, or emotionally flooded, the body looks for urgency. The voice rises not because we want to scare our children—but because we want to be heard.

That reframe softened everything.

And I have so much compassion for mothers who feel overwhelmed and deeply want to stop yelling at their kids. So many women carry quiet shame around this—wanting to be calmer, gentler, more regulated, but not knowing how to get there.

Especially when we remember this truth: most of us were raised to believe yelling was normal. Many of us grew up in homes where raised voices, sharp tones, or emotional intensity were common. Our nervous systems learned that pattern early—long before we ever became mothers ourselves.

So when yelling shows up, it’s often not a conscious choice.
It’s an inherited one.

Instead of spiraling into shame, I learned to get curious:
What just happened inside me? What did I need in that moment?

One of the most liberating lessons Dr. Markham teaches is that peaceful parenting isn’t about never raising your voice—it’s about repair. Repair builds trust. Repair teaches emotional safety. Repair shows children that relationships can bend without breaking.

When I did yell, I learned to come back.
To kneel down.
To soften.
To say, “I’m sorry—that wasn’t how I wanted to handle that.”

And in those moments, connection returned.

I also learned that calm isn’t something you force—it’s something you create the conditions for. Rest, support, boundaries, slowing down, and self-compassion all make calm more accessible. When mothers are supported, they don’t need to rely on volume.

What I appreciate most about Dr. Markham’s work is how compassionate it is toward parents. There’s no shaming. No perfectionism. Just an understanding that parenting is emotional leadership—and emotional leadership requires care for the leader, too.

Here’s the truth I wish every mother knew:

Feeling bad about yelling doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It means you’re aligned with who you want to be.
It means you care.

Motherhood isn’t defined by our hardest moments.
It’s defined by our willingness to reflect, repair, and return to love.

And every time we do that, we become more of the mother we already are at heart. 🤍

With Compassion for all mamas ~
Kristin | Soul Tribe