One of the parents in my coaching group said something recently that has stayed with me:

She said, “I was sitting with my daughter during yet another meltdown. I wasn’t yelling, I didn’t escalate… I was calm on the outside. But inside? I was screaming. Like, full body scream, but silent. I felt like I couldn’t take one more second.”

If you’ve been there, holding space for your child’s chaos while your insides feel like they’re about to explode, I want you to know: You are not alone.

And more importantly: feeling that way doesn’t mean you’re weak, or failing, or doing it wrong.

It means your nervous system is waving a flag. And it needs your attention.

The Part No One Sees: What It Costs to “Keep It Together”

People love to praise calm parenting. “Wow, you’re so patient,” they’ll say. “You’re such a calming presence.” And yes, staying calm is powerful. It’s something we do work toward.

But you know what doesn’t get talked about enough? What it costs to stay calm on the outside. Especially if you’re parenting a child who is emotionally intense, highly sensitive, or just stuck in a tough moment that feels endless.

That quiet, internal scream? It’s not weakness. It’s your body saying: This is too much, and I’m maxed out. It’s your nervous system trying to keep the lid on while the pressure keeps rising.

What’s Actually Going On: You’re Overstimulated

That moment when you feel like you’re going to scream, but you don’t, it’s usually a sign of overload.

You might be:

• Drowning in sound, touch, movement, or chaos
• Pushing down your own emotions to stay “regulated”
• Feeling disconnected from your body while trying to keep control

Your body’s in a stress response, but you’re trying to suppress it. It’s like holding a beach ball underwater. You can do it, for a while…but it’s exhausting. And at some point, it’s going to pop up.

So, What Can You Actually Do?

Here’s where we shift from white knuckling it to giving your nervous system ways to decompress:

1. Notice the signs before things bubbles over.

The earlier you catch it, the easier it is to shift. For a lot of parents, the internal scream feels like:

• A clenched jaw
• Hot cheeks or chest
• Shallow breathing
• Racing thoughts
• Feeling totally stuck or trapped

When you notice those signs, try saying to yourself: “My body’s trying to tell me something.”

Not, “What’s wrong with me?” Just, “Oh hey, I’m reaching my edge.”

2. Release some pressure—micro style.

You might not be able to leave the room or take a break, but you can give your nervous system a quick outlet. Try:

• Exhaling with a long, audible breath (like a shhhh or haaaaa)
• Shaking out your hands or rolling your shoulders
• Grounding your feet into the floor
• Placing your hand on your heart and saying: “This is a lot. I’m still here.”

You don’t need a 30-minute reset. Sometimes, 10 seconds of honesty with yourself can take the edge off.

3. Let yourself feel later—on purpose.

If you’re someone who bottles it up all day, your system needs somewhere to put it when the dust settles. Later on, give yourself permission to:

• Cry (yes, really cry)
• Move: walk, stretch, dance, shake it out
• Talk it through with someone safe
• Journal what you wish you could’ve said out loud

Your inner scream deserves to be heard, but not while you’re trying to hold it all together for everyone else.

How to Reframe These Moments

When that scream rises up, your brain might start whispering unhelpful thoughts:

• “I’m not cut out for this.”
• “Other parents don’t feel like this.”
• “I should be stronger.”

But here’s what I want you to try instead:

• “This feels hard because I care so deeply and I’m doing my best.”
• “This is my body asking for support, not a sign I’m doing anything wrong.”
• “I’m not doing it wrong. I’m just stretched.”

You do not need to hold it all perfectly. You do need to notice when you need care, too.

Because when we listen to the early signals, and give our body what it needs regularly, we build the capacity to keep showing up without burning out.

The Takeaway

That silent scream moment? It’s not a sign you’re a bad parent. It’s your nervous system saying: “Hey…I need a second.”

When you learn to listen to that voice without judgment, something shifts. You build capacity, not just to stay calm, but to recover faster. To feel deeply and still show up again tomorrow.

This is the kind of work we do inside my coaching program. We learn to care for our own system while we care for our kids. Because your calm should never come at the cost of your well-being. You matter.

In your corner,
Dr. Sarah