But that summer, I began to see how owning my reactions and behavior liberated me. By not responding to Papa’s tantrums, I took myself out of them entirely, to the point where I could recognize the absurdity of his actions. I started to understand the directionality of the movement, how it traveled from one source and then stopped at another. His outbursts were a pattern—not an anomaly. I didn’t understand what caused his anger, but I was no longer willing to submit to the repetitive cycle.
