The Sound of Home: Growing Up Around Conflict

If there’s one sound that has become oddly familiar to me over the years, it’s the sound of an argument.

Have you ever had to lock yourself in your room while the sounds of yelling and curses echo throughout your house? You know there’s nothing you can do to stop it, so you turn up your music or the volume on your TV, hoping it will drown out the noise. Every time you hear the voices die down, you wonder if it’s finally over, only to hear the yelling start again. After a while, you stop waiting for the house to become quiet. You just wait for the argument to run out of steam.

How It Started

Growing up, my parents fought a lot, from what to eat for dinner to whether my mom should post family pictures online without asking us first. Some arguments felt important; others were over unbelievably small things. No matter what started it, though, it usually ended the same way: my dad yelling, my mom yelling back, and me wishing it would just stop.

When I was little, I was scared of it.

I remember crying when the arguments got really loud. I also learned curse words that most five- or six-year-olds definitely shouldn’t know. One morning on the way to kindergarten, “Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars came on the radio. I thought one of the lyrics was a swear word, so I remember telling my mom that the song had a bad word in it. She looked surprised that I recognized it so quickly. Looking back, it wasn’t really about the song. It was the fact that I already knew those words at such a young age. At the time, though, I didn’t realize how much those moments were affecting me because I assumed they were just part of growing up.

A Different Reaction

As I got older, something changed. 

The arguments didn’t stop, I just stopped reacting the same way.

Instead of crying or feeling scared, I would put on my headphones or turn up the volume of whatever I was watching on TV. I got used to the arguments. According to research by NIH, many children adapt to ongoing conflict by changing how they respond to it and developing coping strategies to protect their emotional well-being. Looking back, I realized I hadn’t stopped caring–I had simply adapted.  

If we were out in public when an argument started, it was different. I couldn’t block it out with headphones. Instead, I’d stare at my phone or look anywhere except at the people around us. I felt like everyone was staring, watching my parents fight while I tried my best to hide myself. I wished I could disappear.

When “Normal” Isn’t Really Normal

For a long time, I honestly believed every family was like mine.

But I would see my friends’ families, and their parents getting along so calmly. They disagreed sometimes, but didn’t immediately raise their voices. They joked around with each other. They laughed. Their homes felt… peaceful.

Whenever I wondered if other families argued this much, my parents would tell me that everyone acts differently behind closed doors. I believed them. It made sense. Think of it like social media; people only show the happy moments to appeal to others. But the older I got, the more I realized that while every family has disagreements, not every family communicates through constant yelling. 

That was the first time I started questioning if my version of “normal” might not actually be everyone’s normal.

I wondered whether other kids in the South Asian community experienced similar things. In another report by NIH, researchers reviewed 117 studies involving more than 155,000 adolescents across South Asia and found that family conflict and negative family environments were consistently linked to worse mental health outcomes. It reminded me how much our childhood experiences can shape us as people.

Curious, I started reading more about how conflict at home affects children. That’s when I learned that researchers have been studying this for decades. One major review by NIH found consistent evidence that children who grow up around frequent, unresolved conflict are more likely to experience anxiety, emotional distress, and difficulty managing their emotions than children whose parents handle disagreements calmly. The conflict itself isn’t always the biggest problem—it’s when it becomes constant and never really gets resolved. Reading that made me realize I had spent years thinking the yelling was just another part of family life.

How Conflict Changed Me

Looking back, I can see that I adapted in ways I didn’t even notice. I became good at tuning things out. I knew when to stay in my room and when it was better not to say anything.

I also noticed how different my relationships with my parents became.

With my dad, things are usually easy. We joke around, talk about random things, and rarely argue. With my mom, it’s a bit more complicated. We disagree over small things, and sometimes those disagreements become much bigger than they need to be. What always confused me was how quickly things seemed to go back to normal. An hour or two later, she’d start talking to me as if nothing had happened. Over time, I found myself avoiding conversations with her instead of trying to have them because it often felt easier than risking another argument.

Looking Back

I’m still figuring out how growing up in this environment has shaped me. Maybe it’s the reason I started to yell back at my mom. Maybe it’s why I sometimes avoid conflict even when I should speak up. Or maybe it’s simply made me more aware of the kind of relationships I want to have in the future.

I don’t blame my parents, and I know no family is perfect. Every relationship has disagreements. What I’ve learned, though, is that there’s a difference between disagreement and constant conflict.

For years, I thought the sound of yelling was just part of what made a family feel real.

Now, I hope that one day, home will sound a little quieter.

About the Author:

Smiti Desai is a participant in the 2026 Rcoz High School Changemaker Program.