10/22/2025
Healthy guilt can be the wake-up call that saves your relationship.
Ernesto came to me as a rager. Not physical, but verbal – a screamer, a demeaning, get-in-your-face kind of abuser. He told me it just “came over him too fast.”
But these explosions weren’t random. They were learned.
When I asked him who taught him to be so nasty, he named his stepmother. She was cruel, humiliating, the “meanest, worst, most horrible” presence of his childhood.
Without realizing it, Ernesto had carried her voice into his marriage.
When I helped Ernesto see the connection, he recoiled.
He didn’t want to be seen in the same way he looked at his stepmother, least of all by his wife.
What he was feeling in that moment was healthy guilt.
I asked him to find a picture of his stepmother and then gave him one request:
“Next time you’re about to blow, take out the picture of your stepmother, look her in the eye, and say:
I know I’m about to do harm. But right now, being like you is more important to me than my wife is.”
Here’s what Ernesto replied: “That’s not true. That would stop me in my tracks. She’s not more important than my wife is.”
That was the moment he woke up.
Almost fourteen years later, Ernesto has not raged since.
As a man who was also raised by a violent, rageful parent, we have to ask ourselves:
Do we want to repeat the awfulness of what we grew up in?
Or do we want to remember the person we’re speaking to is not the person who made growing up hell, but someone we love and cherish?
As Ernesto said, “That would stop me in my tracks.”