Giving Anger a Voice

Life is not always black and white. It is black, white, gray…and every shade in between.

Yet most of us were taught to navigate life in extremes. We were taught clear categories for what is “good” and “bad.” Clear expectations for how to behave, how to feel, how to respond, and who to be. But very few of us were taught how to navigate the complicated middle spaces of being human.

For many of us, learning how to exist outside of black and white thinking has become a lifelong process of unlearning, questioning, observing, and rediscovering ourselves in real time.

This blog is not me claiming to have all the answers. It is simply me sharing what I am currently learning and uncovering through my own experiences, observations, research, and healing journey. My perspective is not the only perspective. But for those this resonates with, thank you for being here and reading until the end.

Recently, one emotion in particular has been asking me to look at it differently: Anger.

What Is Anger?

From my experiences and observations, anger is complex and multilayered.

We are often taught about anger through its darkest expressions: rage, violence, cruelty, destruction, aggression, emotional harm. Yes, anger can become unsafe and harmful when it is expressed without awareness, accountability, or regulation. But anger also has lighter shades that many of us were never taught to recognize.

Anger can be healing.

Anger can be protective.

Anger can be clarifying.

Anger can even be beautiful.

Not because the emotion itself is pleasant, but because of what it reveals.

In the animated movie Inside Out, Anger is portrayed as loud, explosive, and fiery. While exaggerated for humor, I actually think the movie captured something important: anger usually appears when something feels unfair, crossed, ignored, or deeply misaligned.

Anger is often an alarm system. An alarm system for misalignment between who we truly are and how we are living.

It can surface when we are:

• Staying in environments that conflict with our values

• Pretending to be someone we are not in order to keep the peace

• Repeatedly abandoning ourselves to gain acceptance

• Witnessing injustice, cruelty, or harm

• Having our boundaries crossed

Underneath anger is usually something softer and more vulnerable: hurt, sadness, disappointment, fear, shame, grief.

To me, anger often feels like the hard shell of a turtle protecting a much softer interior.

Understanding Anger Intellectually vs. Experiencing It in the Body

I think many of us intellectually understand emotions.

We can explain them.

Define them.

Analyze them.

But understanding anger mentally is very different from experiencing anger in the body.

Intellectually, someone can say:

“Anger is healthy.”

“Anger deserves space.”

“Anger is a normal emotion.”

But when anger actually moves through the nervous system, the body can respond very differently: tight chest, heat in the face, clenched jaw, restlessness, pressure, shaking, an urge to scream, cry, run, hit something, or shut down completely.

The body does not experience emotions as concepts. It experiences them as energy and sensation. And for many of us, anger feels unsafe inside our own bodies because of what we learned growing up.

The Ways Many of Us Were Taught to Relate to Anger

Most of us were not taught how to safely express anger.

We were taught how to suppress it.

Dismiss it.

Fear it.

Punish it.

Avoid it.

As children, many of us learned that expressing anger could threaten our safety, belonging, connection, or acceptance.

So instead of learning healthy ways to move anger through the body, many of us learned to lock it away.

The image that keeps coming to mind for me is this:

Imagine each time you feel anger, you are forced to lock it inside a room.

At first, maybe the room feels spacious enough.

But over the years, the anger inside begins to take form like a creature that continues to grow. The room becomes smaller. The pressure becomes greater.

In real life, this can look like:

• Less patience

• Emotional numbness

• Chronic tension

• Physical pain

• Health issues

• Emotional reactivity

• Explosive outbursts after long periods of silence

Eventually the anger presses so hard against the walls that it breaks free all at once.

And when that happens, it can harm ourselves and others in ways we never intended.

But there is another experience that can happen too.

Sometimes the locked door opens before the anger erupts. And honestly? That can feel terrifying too.

Because suddenly you are face to face with emotions you were never taught how to safely hold.

It can feel like being thrown into deep water without ever learning how to swim.

What I’m Personally Learning About Anger

This is the part of the blog where I want to be honest:

I am still learning how to express anger in safe and healthy ways.

For most of my life, I leaned more toward repression than expression. I became skilled at staying composed, understanding others, minimizing my own feelings, and keeping the peace.

But the "body keeps score" of what the mouth never says.

For the past 2 years, my therapist and a few emotionally intelligent individuals suggested physically shaking my body... “like shaking a tree”... as a way to release anger from my nervous system.

Even though I understood the intention behind it, I noticed resistance every single time. At first, I did not understand why.

Until I realized something important:

I associate that kind of movement with silliness, laughter, playfulness, and joy.

I am someone who loves being goofy and playful with people I feel safe with. So when I tried using that same movement specifically for anger, my body interpreted it as me trying to bypass or soften my anger instead of truly expressing it.

To be clear, nobody was telling me to dismiss my anger.

But because I have been working so intentionally on honoring all of my emotions, my nervous system wanted a form of expression that felt emotionally distinct.

My inner child wanted to scream.

To break something.

To release pressure.

Meanwhile, my adult self understood the importance of safety, regulation, and not causing harm.

Walking helped calm me.

Art helped soothe me.

But neither fully felt like an outlet for expressing anger itself.

Then recently, my family therapist suggested freezing ice specifically to break when anger arises.

I immediately felt excitement move through my body.

Not because I wanted destruction. But because, for the first time, I felt like I had found a safe outlet that allowed anger to actually have a voice.

A voice without harming myself.

A voice without harming others.

A voice without suppressing it back into the room.

Anger and Parenting

I think many parents are trying incredibly hard to raise emotionally healthy children while also navigating wounds they themselves never received support for.

That is not easy.

Especially when many of us were never shown what safe anger even looks like.

Many parents are trying to teach emotional regulation without ever having experienced emotional safety themselves. And I think that deserves compassion, not shame.

And I also think it is important for us to reflect on this:

What happens when a child learns that sadness is acceptable… but anger is not?

What happens when children only see anger expressed through yelling, punishment, silence, shutdown, or emotional explosion?

Children do not just learn from what we say about emotions. They learn from what emotions are allowed to exist safely around us.

Anger deserves boundaries and accountability, yes.

It also deserves acknowledgment, support, and healthy expression.

Not every expression of anger is harmful. Sometimes anger is simply honesty that no longer wants to stay hidden.

A Different Relationship With Anger

I no longer want to see anger only through the lens of danger. I want to understand it more fully.

To listen to what it is trying to reveal.

To learn how to move it safely.

To create space for it without letting it take control.

And maybe that is part of healing:

Not becoming emotionless.

Not becoming endlessly calm.

Not never feeling anger again.

But learning how to stay connected to ourselves while anger moves through us.

I am still learning.

And in the future, I would love to come back and share what I continue discovering — what has helped, what has not, and what new ways of expressing anger safely I uncover along the way.

Because maybe anger was never meant to be feared into silence.

Maybe it was meant to be understood.