Act Your Age Mitchell: Say What You Feel

Mitchell is two, and he runs on pure, unfiltered emotion. When he’s delighted, it’s a parade. When he’s frustrated, it’s a siren. When he’s tired, brace yourself—it’s a full meltdown. He hasn’t yet adopted the adult charade where you pretend everything’s fine while quietly unraveling. And honestly? Maybe that’s not the worst thing.

At two years old, Mitchell feels things without hesitation, without pretense. His emotions are live events, not reruns buried under layers of rationalization and denial. Adults, on the other hand, have perfected the art of burying emotion alive. Something angers you? Stuff it down and save it for a passive-aggressive blowup over who left the coffee pot empty. Feeling sad? Plaster on a smile so no one gets “concerned.” Fear? Avoid it until it grows into a beast you can’t ignore. And yet, we wonder why our internal systems occasionally blow a gasket.

Mitchell’s work is straightforward but monumental: learn what he’s feeling. That’s step one. He doesn’t need to suppress the tantrums just yet—or stop screaming when he doesn’t get the red cup. Those behaviors are symptoms, not the root of the issue. His real task is understanding, oh, this burning rage means I’m frustrated that I can’t have the thing I want. It feels basic, right? But that’s more than what many so-called “functional adults” manage. How many of us actually have the courage (or the stomach) to sit with what we’re feeling, name it, and figure out what it’s trying to tell us?

Anger, for example, points to something that really matters to you. Sadness? It’s waving a flag that something is hurting or missing. Fear lights up uncertainty, shining a huge spotlight on what we don’t feel ready to face. Even joy—elusive and fleeting—shows us where connection and meaning live. These aren’t burdens to choke down. They’re signals. Instructions. Data. And yet, how often do we just hand them the wheel, flooring it straight into chaos?

Here’s the game Mitchell has to master—and it’s the same game adults should be replaying every day. Step one, figure out what’s behind the siren. Step two, choose how to deal with it. Did the red cup matter that much? Is screaming the necessary response? Spoiler alert, it usually isn’t—unless all you’re trying to do is burn down the house.

Mitchell will get there eventually. He’ll learn that short fuses don’t always blow out roadblocks. He’ll learn to negotiate and converse instead of whining, screaming, or falling into a puddle of disillusionment. He’ll realize patience is a skill. He’ll pick up self-control because, frankly, it’s necessary if you want to get through life without being the adult version of a two-year-old. But all that stuff—the big-boy toolkit—starts somewhere far less dramatic. It starts with naming the emotion before it wrecks everything in its path.

What am I feeling? That’s the key. Simple to ask, excruciating to answer honestly. Mitchell’s learning it for the first time; most adults should revisit it, because what’s driving your life if you haven’t taken the time to figure out who’s “driving”? Every emotional implosion starts with ignoring the signals—or pretending they don’t matter. Feel it, name it, understand it, and then decide what to do about it. Notice that last part? Act. Don’t just react.

Look, Mitchell, you’re two. You’re supposed to throw fits on grocery store floors and refuse to cooperate just because someone put the wrong topping on your sandwich. That’s what toddlers do. But the rest of us? No excuses. If you’re still stomping your feet or silently fuming over nonsense, newsflash—you’re still in emotional kindergarten. Time to graduate.

Now, journal on this as your next exercise in responsibility. Imagine Mitchell is all of us—wild, unpolished, unpredictable—and your job is to teach him to drink one bottle of warm or cold formula every hour. What strategies would you use? How would you handle the resistance, tantrums, or outright refusal? What tools would you lean on? Write it out and, while you’re at it, take a hard look at what those answers teach you about controlling your own chaos.