When I asked Brett what conversation he wished we’d had in our first few years of marriage, his answer didn’t surprise me. Because it was my answer too. We both wish we would have communicated more about how destructive my anger outbursts were. They would come out of nowhere, were challenging to navigate, and we both wish we’d have known how to talk about it, instead of passively and hurtfully allowing it to happen.

We would be right in the middle of laughing till we cried in a snuggle fest, and, all of a sudden, without much notice, I would be erupting into an anger tornado about how upset I was with myself, my circumstances, or something Brett said. It was so defeating.