Shit Boomerangs:
Why You're Covered in Crap and Might’ve Thrown the First Turd
We all know that feeling: someone snaps at us, ignores us, or treats us unfairly, and we immediately assume they’re the problem. We tell ourselves, I didn’t do anything wrong! They’re just being rude, ungrateful, or unreasonable. But what if we took a step back and considered another possibility—what if their reaction is actually a Shit Boomerang?
What Is a Shit Boomerang?
A Shit Boomerang is the emotional equivalent of flinging crap out into the universe—a passive-aggressive jab, a cold shoulder, a sarcastic remark—only to have it come back around and hit you in the face, perfectly aimed. The catch is, most of us don’t even realize we threw something in the first place. We only notice what the other person does to us, not what we might have done to set it in motion.
This is unconscious. But once you become aware of it, you gain a whole lot more power. Because every time we cast ourselves as the victim, we give up our ability to change the story. When one person starts throwing shit, the other usually responds in kind, and pretty soon everyone is covered in emotional sewage with no idea who started it.
The magic of the shit boomerang is that it teaches you something you might not want to learn: that you may have been the original turd-slinger. That your tone, your absence, your withholding, your timing, or your unmetabolized resentment may have started the loop you now feel so justified complaining about. And if that sounds unfair, take a breath. This isn’t about blaming you. It’s about giving you tools to stop the cycle. Because if you can see your part, you can change your part. And that’s everything.
And while we’re talking about cycles, let’s talk about how they spin faster. Because one of the most dangerous things about Shit Boomerangs is that we don’t just return what we received—we escalate. We amplify. If someone throws a Level 2 turd our way, we might feel it as a Level 3 insult. And in response, we hurl back a Level 4. Then they receive that as a 5 and retaliate with a 6. And suddenly a minor slight about dishes or tone of voice becomes a full-blown psychological warfare scenario involving every unresolved issue since 2004.
The reality is, we don’t just react to what was done—we react to how it felt. And our feelings are rarely proportionate. They're filtered through our trauma, our mood, our stories, and our defenses. So even if the other person did do something, the intensity of our return fire often far outweighs the original sin. They might even acknowledge they started something small—but now they feel victimized by how disproportionately we responded. And we feel victimized because we’re now catching their backlash to our backlash. No one is regulating. No one is slowing down. Everyone is just escalating based on how shitty it feels, not how shitty it actually was.
This is how otherwise decent people torch marriages, ruin friendships, and rage-quit jobs: not because the first turd was so damaging—but because we took that initial emotional stink and turned it into a full-on shit hurricane. The Shit Olympics. We keep upping the degree of difficulty until both people are disoriented, defensive, and disgusted.
So here’s a personal example. (Yes, I’m about to be the guy who flung the first turd. Buckle up.) A few years ago, I decided to offer some “gentle guidance” to one of the new clinicians in our practice. I had noticed they were a little slow on progress notes, and I—being the wise, experienced, all-knowing Jedi therapist I am—thought it would be helpful to pass along some workflow tips. You know, mentor vibes. What came out of my mouth was something like, “Hey, I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re staying on top of documentation. It’s important we don’t fall behind.” What she probably heard was: “You’re lazy, incompetent, and on thin ice.”
Because after that, she stopped making eye contact. Her emails became one-word replies. She even stopped laughing at my jokes—which, I think we can all agree, are usually solid. I spent the next few weeks wondering why she was being so cold. I assumed she had something going on personally or just didn’t like working here. I even vented to a colleague about her “weird energy” and how I was trying so hard to be supportive.
Then it hit me. I hadn’t checked my tone. I hadn’t asked how she was doing or whether she was overwhelmed. I just swooped in with my clipboard of wisdom, assuming I was helping. But my delivery was a little tight, a little rushed, and—let’s be honest—a little judgy.
It was a boomerang. I flung something subtle but sharp, and I got the emotional distance right back in my face. And when I finally circled back and said, “Hey, I realize I may have come off as critical—I was just trying to be helpful,” she softened immediately. She said, “Yeah… it just kind of felt like you were disappointed in me.”
Oof. Lesson learned: even well-intentioned crap can still stink if you don’t check how you throw it.
How to Break the Shit Cycle
I don’t know about you, but I for one don’t like being covered in shit. And I’ve learned that the best way of avoiding being covered in shit is by reducing the amount that I throw out onto other people and the universe. The less you lob into the emotional ecosystem, the less finds its way back to your doorstep. And that awareness—that you might be part of the cycle—doesn’t have to be shame-inducing. It can be empowering. Because it means you can change how the story ends.
We don’t break the cycle by being saints. We break it by being aware. By noticing when it’s happening, interrupting our reactivity, and choosing something—anything—that isn’t just another emotional turd hurled into the universe. Here’s how to start:
Step 1: Recognize the Boomerang Mid-Flight
The first step in stopping the shit cycle is catching it in real time—or at least close to it. You can’t interrupt a boomerang if you don’t know one’s been thrown. That moment when someone else is upset, irritated, or emotionally distant? That’s often your first clue. Something is happening. Maybe not because of you—but possibly involving you. And when your body starts to react—tight chest, clenched jaw, flushed face, knot in the gut—that’s the early warning system. Pay attention. The body feels it before the brain translates it.
That’s your opening. The pause. The moment where you could escalate—but don’t have to.
It usually shows up when you’re feeling most justified, most reactive, most indignant. When you’re certain you’re right and they’re wrong. But if you can stop—even briefly—and ask yourself: Have I seen this pattern before? Does their reaction feel oddly familiar? Is it possible they’re responding to something I’m not seeing?
Boomerangs don’t always come with labels, but they echo. They have a flavor. A mood. A tone you’ve tasted before. The more you train yourself to listen to the echo and feel the sensation in your body, the more likely you are to realize: Oh… this might not be entirely out of nowhere.
Three Ways to Practice Recognition Mid-Flight:
Step 2: Interrupt the Monkey
Your brain has a monkey in the basement. And when it feels threatened, it panics. It throws crap. It screams. It plots revenge scenarios involving imaginary courtroom scenes where you prove you were right all along. The monkey means well—it’s trying to protect you—but it has the emotional regulation of a toddler on Red Bull.
The trick isn’t to shut the monkey down. It’s to take the steering wheel back before it drives you into a flaming dumpster of reactivity. You don’t need to fight the monkey. You just need to keep it from running the show.
One of the easiest places I’ve found to do this in real time? Email. When I get something that feels sharp or passive-aggressive or just flat-out rude, I’ll catch myself about to fire something back. That’s when I remind myself: If I send a shit email, I’m about to create the exact opposite of what I want. I don’t want more drama, more tension, more boomerangs. I want clarity. I want peace. And the moment I notice the monkey about to type, I pause. I breathe. Sometimes I don’t send anything for a day. Sometimes I write a version just to get it out, and then delete the whole damn thing. Either way—I’m back in the driver’s seat.
Because the first sign the monkey’s grabbing the wheel? The body. Surge of heat. Sudden tension. That zing of adrenaline when you feel misunderstood, insulted, or dismissed. That’s your cue. When you feel yourself about to react with force or judgment, drop into awareness. Interrupt the spiral.
Because the second you can notice the monkey mid-swing, you’re no longer just the monkey. You’re the one watching the monkey. And that’s where your real power begins.
Four Ways to Interrupt the Monkey:
Step 3: Respond Differently, Even If They Don’t
This is the moment that really counts. The moment you realize you could throw something back—and no one would blame you. You feel justified. Righteous. Maybe even a little clever about the verbal boomerang you’ve got locked and loaded. But here’s the thing: just because you can fling it, doesn’t mean you should.
This isn’t about being the better person to win the moral high ground or get a gold star in karmic kindergarten. It’s about realizing that when you don’t throw the shit back, you don’t get covered in it later. It really is that simple. You reduce the mess in your own life. You actually win.
And choosing not to retaliate—responding with curiosity, compassion, or just a well-timed pause—might feel hard in the moment. But long term? It’s the easier way. It creates less damage to repair, fewer messes to mop up, and more space to be the person you actually want to be. The person you feel proud of. The one who walks away with clean hands and a clear head.
This kind of response doesn’t just help the other person—it helps you. It shrinks the emotional boomerang pile at your front door. It gives you your peace back. And it feels good, in that deep, long-game kind of way, to show up in the world as someone who handles conflict in a way that aligns with your values.
Four Ways to Respond from the You That Wins:
You don't have to fix the other person. You don't have to pretend you’re not hurt. You just have to stay awake enough to see when the cycle is spinning—and brave enough to take yourself out of it. Not because you’re better. But because you’re done being covered in crap.
And if you did throw it?
Well… grab a mop.
You’ve got some cleaning up to do.
If you’re tired of feeling stuck in painful cycles and want support that actually helps you move forward, I’d be honored to work with you. As a therapist in Boise, Idaho, I help individuals break free from emotional patterns that no longer serve them and create meaningful change. Ready to get started? Click here to schedule a session or learn more: https://www.davidcummins.net/contact
What Is a Shit Boomerang?
A Shit Boomerang is the emotional equivalent of flinging crap out into the universe—a passive-aggressive jab, a cold shoulder, a sarcastic remark—only to have it come back around and hit you in the face, perfectly aimed. The catch is, most of us don’t even realize we threw something in the first place. We only notice what the other person does to us, not what we might have done to set it in motion.
This is unconscious. But once you become aware of it, you gain a whole lot more power. Because every time we cast ourselves as the victim, we give up our ability to change the story. When one person starts throwing shit, the other usually responds in kind, and pretty soon everyone is covered in emotional sewage with no idea who started it.
The magic of the shit boomerang is that it teaches you something you might not want to learn: that you may have been the original turd-slinger. That your tone, your absence, your withholding, your timing, or your unmetabolized resentment may have started the loop you now feel so justified complaining about. And if that sounds unfair, take a breath. This isn’t about blaming you. It’s about giving you tools to stop the cycle. Because if you can see your part, you can change your part. And that’s everything.
And while we’re talking about cycles, let’s talk about how they spin faster. Because one of the most dangerous things about Shit Boomerangs is that we don’t just return what we received—we escalate. We amplify. If someone throws a Level 2 turd our way, we might feel it as a Level 3 insult. And in response, we hurl back a Level 4. Then they receive that as a 5 and retaliate with a 6. And suddenly a minor slight about dishes or tone of voice becomes a full-blown psychological warfare scenario involving every unresolved issue since 2004.
The reality is, we don’t just react to what was done—we react to how it felt. And our feelings are rarely proportionate. They're filtered through our trauma, our mood, our stories, and our defenses. So even if the other person did do something, the intensity of our return fire often far outweighs the original sin. They might even acknowledge they started something small—but now they feel victimized by how disproportionately we responded. And we feel victimized because we’re now catching their backlash to our backlash. No one is regulating. No one is slowing down. Everyone is just escalating based on how shitty it feels, not how shitty it actually was.
This is how otherwise decent people torch marriages, ruin friendships, and rage-quit jobs: not because the first turd was so damaging—but because we took that initial emotional stink and turned it into a full-on shit hurricane. The Shit Olympics. We keep upping the degree of difficulty until both people are disoriented, defensive, and disgusted.
So here’s a personal example. (Yes, I’m about to be the guy who flung the first turd. Buckle up.) A few years ago, I decided to offer some “gentle guidance” to one of the new clinicians in our practice. I had noticed they were a little slow on progress notes, and I—being the wise, experienced, all-knowing Jedi therapist I am—thought it would be helpful to pass along some workflow tips. You know, mentor vibes. What came out of my mouth was something like, “Hey, I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re staying on top of documentation. It’s important we don’t fall behind.” What she probably heard was: “You’re lazy, incompetent, and on thin ice.”
Because after that, she stopped making eye contact. Her emails became one-word replies. She even stopped laughing at my jokes—which, I think we can all agree, are usually solid. I spent the next few weeks wondering why she was being so cold. I assumed she had something going on personally or just didn’t like working here. I even vented to a colleague about her “weird energy” and how I was trying so hard to be supportive.
Then it hit me. I hadn’t checked my tone. I hadn’t asked how she was doing or whether she was overwhelmed. I just swooped in with my clipboard of wisdom, assuming I was helping. But my delivery was a little tight, a little rushed, and—let’s be honest—a little judgy.
It was a boomerang. I flung something subtle but sharp, and I got the emotional distance right back in my face. And when I finally circled back and said, “Hey, I realize I may have come off as critical—I was just trying to be helpful,” she softened immediately. She said, “Yeah… it just kind of felt like you were disappointed in me.”
Oof. Lesson learned: even well-intentioned crap can still stink if you don’t check how you throw it.
How to Break the Shit Cycle
I don’t know about you, but I for one don’t like being covered in shit. And I’ve learned that the best way of avoiding being covered in shit is by reducing the amount that I throw out onto other people and the universe. The less you lob into the emotional ecosystem, the less finds its way back to your doorstep. And that awareness—that you might be part of the cycle—doesn’t have to be shame-inducing. It can be empowering. Because it means you can change how the story ends.
We don’t break the cycle by being saints. We break it by being aware. By noticing when it’s happening, interrupting our reactivity, and choosing something—anything—that isn’t just another emotional turd hurled into the universe. Here’s how to start:
Step 1: Recognize the Boomerang Mid-Flight
The first step in stopping the shit cycle is catching it in real time—or at least close to it. You can’t interrupt a boomerang if you don’t know one’s been thrown. That moment when someone else is upset, irritated, or emotionally distant? That’s often your first clue. Something is happening. Maybe not because of you—but possibly involving you. And when your body starts to react—tight chest, clenched jaw, flushed face, knot in the gut—that’s the early warning system. Pay attention. The body feels it before the brain translates it.
That’s your opening. The pause. The moment where you could escalate—but don’t have to.
It usually shows up when you’re feeling most justified, most reactive, most indignant. When you’re certain you’re right and they’re wrong. But if you can stop—even briefly—and ask yourself: Have I seen this pattern before? Does their reaction feel oddly familiar? Is it possible they’re responding to something I’m not seeing?
Boomerangs don’t always come with labels, but they echo. They have a flavor. A mood. A tone you’ve tasted before. The more you train yourself to listen to the echo and feel the sensation in your body, the more likely you are to realize: Oh… this might not be entirely out of nowhere.
Three Ways to Practice Recognition Mid-Flight:
- Tune in to your body first. Is your stomach tight? Shoulders tense? Jaw clenched? These are the smoke signals before your mind catches fire.
- Label the feeling. Instead of reacting, name it: This feels like being dismissed. This feels like shame. Putting a word to it slows the spiral.
- Ask yourself one grounding question. Try: If I were unknowingly contributing to this moment, what might it be? Curiosity shifts you out of defense.
Step 2: Interrupt the Monkey
Your brain has a monkey in the basement. And when it feels threatened, it panics. It throws crap. It screams. It plots revenge scenarios involving imaginary courtroom scenes where you prove you were right all along. The monkey means well—it’s trying to protect you—but it has the emotional regulation of a toddler on Red Bull.
The trick isn’t to shut the monkey down. It’s to take the steering wheel back before it drives you into a flaming dumpster of reactivity. You don’t need to fight the monkey. You just need to keep it from running the show.
One of the easiest places I’ve found to do this in real time? Email. When I get something that feels sharp or passive-aggressive or just flat-out rude, I’ll catch myself about to fire something back. That’s when I remind myself: If I send a shit email, I’m about to create the exact opposite of what I want. I don’t want more drama, more tension, more boomerangs. I want clarity. I want peace. And the moment I notice the monkey about to type, I pause. I breathe. Sometimes I don’t send anything for a day. Sometimes I write a version just to get it out, and then delete the whole damn thing. Either way—I’m back in the driver’s seat.
Because the first sign the monkey’s grabbing the wheel? The body. Surge of heat. Sudden tension. That zing of adrenaline when you feel misunderstood, insulted, or dismissed. That’s your cue. When you feel yourself about to react with force or judgment, drop into awareness. Interrupt the spiral.
Because the second you can notice the monkey mid-swing, you’re no longer just the monkey. You’re the one watching the monkey. And that’s where your real power begins.
Four Ways to Interrupt the Monkey:
- Breathe like you’re trying to calm down a scared dog. Slow. Low. Gentle. It won’t solve the problem—but it will stop the escalation.
- Distract the monkey. Step outside. Drink water. Change rooms. Interrupt the momentum by doing something that breaks the emotional loop.
- Shift into your better self. Ask: What would the wise, grounded version of me do right now? (Spoiler: probably not post that thing on Facebook.)
- Take the damn wheel. Literally picture yourself grabbing the steering wheel from the monkey’s jittery little hands. Say, “I’ve got this.” Because monkeys might be cute, but they’re terrible drivers.
Step 3: Respond Differently, Even If They Don’t
This is the moment that really counts. The moment you realize you could throw something back—and no one would blame you. You feel justified. Righteous. Maybe even a little clever about the verbal boomerang you’ve got locked and loaded. But here’s the thing: just because you can fling it, doesn’t mean you should.
This isn’t about being the better person to win the moral high ground or get a gold star in karmic kindergarten. It’s about realizing that when you don’t throw the shit back, you don’t get covered in it later. It really is that simple. You reduce the mess in your own life. You actually win.
And choosing not to retaliate—responding with curiosity, compassion, or just a well-timed pause—might feel hard in the moment. But long term? It’s the easier way. It creates less damage to repair, fewer messes to mop up, and more space to be the person you actually want to be. The person you feel proud of. The one who walks away with clean hands and a clear head.
This kind of response doesn’t just help the other person—it helps you. It shrinks the emotional boomerang pile at your front door. It gives you your peace back. And it feels good, in that deep, long-game kind of way, to show up in the world as someone who handles conflict in a way that aligns with your values.
Four Ways to Respond from the You That Wins:
- Ask instead of assume. Try: “You okay? That seemed like a strong reaction—did I miss something?” It’s disarming and often surprisingly effective.
- Be curious about your blind spots. Wonder: “Is there something I said or did that could’ve landed wrong?” It doesn’t mean you’re wrong—it means you care.
- Don’t match their energy. If they’re at a 7, stay at a 4. Let them come down to you. Emotional jiu-jitsu works better than full-contact reactivity.
- Remember your long game. You get to be the person you respect. The one who doesn’t need to “win” to feel okay. And the less you throw out, the less comes back. That’s not martyrdom—that’s strategy.
You don't have to fix the other person. You don't have to pretend you’re not hurt. You just have to stay awake enough to see when the cycle is spinning—and brave enough to take yourself out of it. Not because you’re better. But because you’re done being covered in crap.
And if you did throw it?
Well… grab a mop.
You’ve got some cleaning up to do.
If you’re tired of feeling stuck in painful cycles and want support that actually helps you move forward, I’d be honored to work with you. As a therapist in Boise, Idaho, I help individuals break free from emotional patterns that no longer serve them and create meaningful change. Ready to get started? Click here to schedule a session or learn more: https://www.davidcummins.net/contact