The marvelous Dames Sophie & Margaret from Two Bossy Dames released an amazing newsletter on Lady Rage last Friday, which I highly recommend reading. [gif warning at the link] They really do a great job of delving into their experiences and perspective on how women have so much to be angry about and so little cultural room to be angry. (That’s a massive oversimplification on my part--do go and read the whole thing.)
But I wanted to talk a little about my own experience & reaction to anger, which is super super super complicated because it’s also tied to my experience of emotional abuse. My dad was angry my whole life, at lots of different people, including me & the rest of the family. His anger was used as a weapon, while my anger was shut down. Obviously growing up in that environment is going to have an effect. This plays out in a couple of ways:
I assume that if I get angry, I will be punished for it, because historically I have been
My own anger scares me, because the single thing in the world that I’m most frightened of is perpetuating that cycle of hurt
I have had few models of good ways to deal with anger in my life
Experiencing others’ anger can feel like a toxin building up in my bloodstream
So, over and above all of the social conditioning that tells women that they should be nice and sweet and not mad about anything (all while filling the news cycle with endless stories about violence and harassment and aggression against us)--above and beyond all of that, I also have that voice in my head that tells me that getting angry is going to hurt someone, probably me.
(This is all massively verbalized from what is in fact a very subconscious response. It’s taken a lot of work and a lot of distance in both time & space for me to be able to talk about this as clearly as I am.)
The result is that I almost never get actually angry on my own behalf. I get angry in defense of other people. I love what Sophie said about being “furious all the time, but rarely actually angry.” I’m at a simmering rage most of the time, to be honest. But there have been times when I’ve gotten angry and regretted what I’ve said and done.
I know that women are told to be quiet and meek in a way men aren’t. I hate this. I want to rage against what’s wrong in the world. And yet--and yet--I also see the ways that anger can be toxic for me--both my own and other peoples’. I hate that women, are told that their justified anger is wrong, unseemly, too much. And yet there are times when I literally physically feel anger building up in my body and it hurts.
Maybe the problem is partly one of vocabulary: that what we call anger is actually many things from many motives, expressed in many ways. When all of this is given one label, it’s easy to feel like my father’s destruction, my own impulses, the rage we should all feel at injustices in the world are all the same.
I don’t know. I don’t have answers to the questions I’ve raised for myself. Like the rest of us, I’m muddling my way through. I’m trying to learn to trust my instincts, to distrust what I’ve been told and to hold true to what I know, deep in my heart and my gut and my bones. Right now, that says: sometimes it’s okay to be angry. Sometimes it’s not, but it’s okay to mess up too, as long as you admit it and try again.