The World From The Perspective Of A Two Year Old.

aggressive kid anger in kids Jul 04, 2022
The World From The Perspective Of A Two Year Old.

I’m 2 now!

I’m a big boy!

I feel like I have a shiny new brain because I have so many new thoughts like I never did before!

The coolest thought I have is that I’m a whole different person. I used to think me and my mom and dad are the same, but now I know I’m my own person.

This means I can make my own choices and do things MY way.

But what is this? Every time I say I want to do things my way, mama and baba seem to get mad at me.

Don’t they want me to grow and do things myself?

“Abhi aap bohat chotay ho!” (“You’re still too young”) they say.

But I’m not! I’m not a baby anymore!

Yes, I’m a little slower and I don’t always get it right in the first try.. but I can do it!

“Uff.. itna time nahi hai!” (“I don’t have time for this!”) Baba says. That makes me sad. If you never let me do this in my time then how will I learn to do it faster?

Now I feel mad and sad.

Oh and who’s this new person in my life? My sister? What on earth is a sister? I guess she’s the person who mama and baba only smile at and coo at. I guess she’s their Best Child.

They used to look at me that way, once. Not anymore.

Now they look at me with scary eyes. Or angry eyes. Or sad eyes. Or mean eyes.

They tell me I should “behave better”. As if I’m choosing to be bad. Who chooses to be bad?

They tell me I should stop being “rude”. I’m just sharing my feelings. Should I not feel my feelings?

They tell me to love “my sister”. Why would I love Best Child who’s taken my parents away and makes them mad at me?!

Now I’m sad, mad and confused.

I wish I could say how I feel but I don’t have the words yet.

The feelings are in my brain, but I don’t know how to say them.

My brain is getting frustrated with all these feelings just stuck here and it’s saying I should just use my body to talk.

So I hit.

I scream.

I push.

Something. Anything. To say how I feel.

But no one listens.

Now they said I’m rude.



Ganda bacha.




I don’t know what those words mean but they’re not nice. I can tell.

Because their faces talk as they talk.

Their faces tell me I’m bad.

Am I bad?

Now I’m scared. Will no one love me because I’m bad? My heart aches like sometimes my tummy aches.

How do I say that? Why don’t I have the words?

Grrrr. This is so hard!! How do I tell my mama my heart hurts? Maybe she has a medicine like she does when my tummy hurts? 

I know! I’ll cry! I cried when my tummy hurt and she took me to the doctor.

“Stop crying! You’re fine! Kuch nahi hua!” She says.

Now my heart hurts even more.

Maybe if I cry harder?

“STOP BOTHERING ME!!” (“Mujhay tang karna bas kar do!”) mama says in a scary voice.

But I wasn’t bothering her.

I was crying like Best Child cries and baba mama hold her immediately and hug her and give her a toy or food.

But when I cry I’m told not to cry and no one smiles at me. Am I being forgotten?! Is it because I’m bad?

My heart hurts so badly now. This pain won’t go away.

I feel so alone.

Sometimes mama and baba are nice to me and tell me they love me. Only when I pretend to love Best Child. And only when I’m Be Nice. I’m not sure what is Be Nice exactly but I think it’s when I can forget the pain in my heart and forget my new brain and just do what they say.

I wish I could Be Nice more often because it’s the only time they smile at me and say they love me.

But Be Nice is becoming harder because my heart keeps hurting. No one is giving me the medicine. No one is trying to make my pain go away.

Maybe if I hit harder?

Maybe if I throw more things?

Maybe if I scream louder?

Maybe if I hurt Best Child?

Oh no! What did I do this time? It’s all those words again... those mean sounding words. Yes I know I’m not supposed to hurt Best Child but I just wanted you to see ME!

“Go and think about what you’ve done!” I’m told. I go sit in The Sad Corner. They call it “the thinking corner”.

Yes, I’m thinking. I’m alone. No one really wants me. I’m not Be Nice. I can’t Be Nice enough times. I’m... just... bad...

But I wasn’t trying to be...

I wish there was a way for me to explain to them what I need from them.

Look at me with love again. Not just when I’m Be Nice. But also when I’m bad. Love me again. Say the words I can’t speak. Say them for me. Be Nice even when I’m bad.

Be Nice to me, please.

Be Nice.

(Picture: Painting by Giovanni Bragolin)