One of the most common emotions experienced by children is hatred. Children feel hatred when they are blocked from something they want and when someone takes something away from them. When five year old Moshie builds a house out of his connecting blocks and three year old Malka kicks it until it is flattened, Moshie feels hatred towards his sister. When their mother picks up the eight month old to nurse him, both Moshie and Malka hate him for taking mommy away for a while. They hate him for getting her time and attention when he cries and screams. When they cry and scream, mom tells them to go to their room until they’re calmer and quieter. The baby gets held and cuddled.

Do you think it’s even worse when a child yells, “I hate you” at his sibling? Have you considered telling your child that “we don’t hate?” Some parents believe that feeling hatred is bad, and expressing hatred is even worse.

The sefer Pele Yo-aitz, in the section Sinah, teaches us that it’s the other way around. The worst hatred is the hatred that is in the heart while the face feigns brotherly love. He explains that when hatred is openly expressed there is the likelihood that someone will mediate and help restore peace. This is why the Torah commands us not to hate someone secretly, lo sisneh es acheecha bilvavecha. Pele Yo-aitz suggests that we should choose the lesser of evils, openly expressed hatred rather than harboring hatred in the heart.

As hard as it is to hear a child say he hates his sibling, some parents find it even more painful when a child looks them in the eye and says, “I hate you.” It can be very hard to feel and express empathy to a hostile child when you’re the object of his hostility. Perhaps the following narrative will help you.

Author Heather Shumaker writes:

I remember screaming “I hate you!” to my mother when I was about five. The words scared me.   I knew they were dangerous words, and deep inside me I knew they weren’t true. I loved my mother with all the ferocity of my little heart. But I was in out-of-control dervish mode. All I knew was that I was mad and I grabbed the strongest words available. As soon as I’d spoken the words, I felt desolate and vulnerable – would my mother stop loving me, too? My heart froze until I heard my mother’s reassuring voice: “I know you’re angry right now. I love you even when you’re angry at me.” She didn’t negate my words. (“No, you don’t! You don’t feel that way!”) I imagine that would only have riled me up more. Instead, she was a source of strength when I needed her most.

Keep a calm head when your child is losing his. Don’t bother giving any deep meaning to the insults. He is lost in the intensity of his emotions. Remember, he needs your help right now; he’s relying on you. (It’s OK NOT to Share, pp. 83-84)

What makes it so hard to keep a calm head when your child says she hates you? Is it because you believe her? You should believe it, because at that moment it’s true. Children don’t lie about their emotions. And they don’t just wear them on their sleeves. They hurl them at you with all the ferocity of their hearts. But don’t you feel the intensity of their love sometimes, too? Don’t you see their unfettered joy when they put that last piece into the puzzle, spray the whipped cream onto their pie, or jump into the wading pool? The intensity of a child’s emotions is matched only by their fleeting brevity. Haven’t you ever thought, “he was so excited about that new toy, but ten minutes later he complained that he was bored and had nothing to do?” The metaphor of riding an emotional roller coaster is apt not only for the steep ups and downs, but also for the fact that roller coaster rides last about three minutes. Try to imagine yourself sitting on the bench waiting for her to finish her ride rather than getting onto the roller coaster with her.  

When she gets off, help her regain her equilibrium. The ride may be over but it can take awhile before she’s steady again. Don’t criticize her for being as upset as she’d been. Your saying, “Was that really worth making such a scene over” is a form of criticism. Your child is just getting over feeling very bad. It’s okay to feel very bad, sometimes. When a young child doesn’t get something he wants, he feels very bad, not just disappointed. He’s distraught, and no, he’s not being a “drama queen.” It really does feel like a missed opportunity that will never come around again, and it does seem like the end of the world to him. And if you’re the reason that this golden opportunity was lost, whether it’s because you wouldn’t buy him the gum at the grocery store or because you didn’t let him finish putting the cars into the garage, he will hate you for it. It’s that big a deal.

For about 2 minutes.

Give him the two minutes to bewail his loss. If you are able to, focus elsewhere. Turn to your sefer, go into the kitchen, sit down with another child. Trust him to get over it. And trust yourself to get over being hated for two minutes. But don’t assume that he knows you’re okay. When he’s calm, validate his feelings.

Don’t say, “I know you were very angry, but…”

Don’t say but. No matter what you were going to say next, if it follows “but” don’t say it. That would invalidate the feelings you just validated.

Instead, say, “I know you were very angry and I feel bad that it was so upsetting to you. How are you feeling now?” And then go on with your day, and let him go on with his.

Rabbi Ackerman is a licensed psychotherapist. His private practice phone number is 718-344-6575.