I can tell you the exact moment that realization really became significant in my life. I knew I didn't want to be abusive and put my kids through what my mother put me through. But until I had my first child and had that moment where I just sort of instinctually? had the urge to hurt him because I was so frustrated and tired and he wouldn't stop crying, it wasn't a real thing to me. The fact that I even had that thought, that feeling, made me feel like a piece of shit. I put my son down on the bed and walked out of the room and cried for several reasons.

I made the choice that day that I was going to be patient and calm. It's a choice I've had to make repeatedly, but over time it became my nature and it's been a long time since I've had to consciously make the decision to be calm or walk away to avoid losing my temper.

I have raised my voice at my boys, but never screamed, never physically hurt them, never said anything to demean then or undermine their confidence or make them feel like there was something wrong with them that upset me, rather than it being their behavior or choices. (At least I hope I haven't.)

I may have a lot of things in my life to be ashamed of, but knowing that I broke that sickening cycle of abuse is one thing I know I can be proud of. I've got two patient, compassionate boys who've also had to learn to walk away when the frustration gets to be too much. As mad as they've gotten at each other (as brothers do), they've always known that violence is never an acceptable response and never gotten physical when angry. Shouting at each other? Sure, but even then it's not name-calling and hurtful verbal attacks. It's "it makes me mad when you do this thing or act that way" kind of fighting.

They're teenagers. They're still learning. But they've done great so far and I hope their instincts will be patience and the ability to know when to walk away and cool down.

Thanks for reading my novel.