Can I Be Mad at You, Mom?

What children really need when their anger is directed at us

There’s this parenting wisdom floating around—one that many of us hold close: Don’t leave your child when they’re having big feelings. Stay. Be the calm in their storm.

And yes. That’s beautiful. That’s powerful. That’s true.

But what if the storm is directed at you? What if the reason for the meltdown is the limit you set, or the tone you used, or the way your "no" landed hard on their nervous system?

Hands holding heart

This is where it gets murky. This is where we start to question: Am I supposed to stay close? Or give them space?

And what I’ve come to believe—through my own healing, my somatic practice, and years of walking beside parents—is that it depends on the child, the moment, and their developmental stage.

In the Toddler Years, their anger is all fire and movement...

It’s wild and fast and full-body. They don’t yet have the capacity to hold those feelings alone. They may scream and kick—but more often than not, they’ll eventually reach for you. They want to know that their big, scary feelings don’t scare you. They want to feel your calm presence anchoring the room. You are their co-regulator, their lighthouse.

So we stay. We allow the feeling. We hold the limit with steadiness and love, and we hold the child.

But then they grow...

In the school years, something shifts.They start asking for dignity. Autonomy. A little room to breathe. And this is where I stumbled, honestly...My son would get angry with me, and he wouldn’t want a hug. He wouldn’t want words. He’d want space. And that confused me—because everything I’d been taught told me to stay close.

But one day, I imagined what it would be like to be stuck in a car with someone I was mad at—someone who didn’t back off. My body would stay stuck in the stress loop. The heat wouldn’t get to move. The wave wouldn’t get to break. My nervous system would be caught up in the tension as it continuously received signals of threat from the other person.

What I would really need… is to get out of the car. To walk. To breathe. To remember myself.

And that’s what our children need, too. When the anger is at us, they sometimes need distance, not disconnection. And it’s our job to honor that boundary, even when it stings.

By the time they reach the teen years,

space isn’t optional—it’s vital.They are becoming. And part of becoming means protecting the vulnerable parts of themselves as they figure it all out.

If they walk away in anger, it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. It means they’re learning how to hold fire without burning down the relationship. They’re learning to trust that you’ll still be there when they come back.

And we get to be the ones who say, with our eyes and our posture and our steadiness:You can be angry with me. And I will still be here. You are allowed to feel everything, and our connection will still be intact.

This, to me, is attunement.

Not being perfect.

Not always knowing the “right” thing to do.

But listening. Sensing. Respecting.

Trusting the child’s inner wisdom.

And doing the tender work of regulating our own nervous system so that theirs can find its way back to balance, connection, playfulness, flexibility.

Science backs this up.

Attachment theory teaches us that secure attachment is about attunement—not always proximity.

Dan Siegel’s work in interpersonal neurobiology reminds us that our presence is felt, even from across the room.

Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory shows us how co-regulation depends on the perception of safety. And sometimes, closeness feels like threat. Respecting space can be the very thing that creates safety.

So if your child ever storms off in anger—Or says, “Leave me alone!”—Try not to chase. Try not to fix. Anchor yourself. Stay open. Stay kind. Stay near enough that they can find their way back to you.

And when they do…Let your arms say what your words might not know how to:I love you, even when you’re angry. Especially then.

Want support navigating these moments? Download my free Befriend Anger Map or explore peaceful parent coaching sessions at sharepeaceparenting.com. You don’t have to do this alone.