Anger Doesn't Have To Be A Monster

Some time ago, a counseling friend shared a book called "The Book of Qualities" by J. Ruth Gendler. I was blown away by her writing and her ability to personify emotions and qualities. I ended up buying an old used copy and I'll bring it up occasionally to friends and clients.

This book reminded me of a counseling session I had a few years back. I was working with my counselor on my own anger and I had this image in my head that anger was a monster. Anger felt like a threat that I couldn't handle. Anger was standing in this doorway and all my other emotions were locked behind anger. It felt like if I wanted to connect to all my other emotions, I would have to go through anger.

Thankfully, my wise counselor held that space for me. She gently asked, "What if anger is the closest to the door because it's the one that most needs to be heard?" In that moment the monster changed into a crying child. It might have been the first time in my life that I had compassion for my own anger.

That moment still lingers for me today. I think about it often. I decided recently to write my own version of what the "Book of Qualities" offered. I've been trying to find a way to express how anger has still been changing for me. Here is what I've come up with:

Anger doesn't feel like he used to. He has grown and matured. For as long as I can remember he seemed like a monster and a bully. He terrorized my house and made me cower in my own skin. It was usually better to put my head under the covers and pretend he wasn't there. My sister used to run from him but that always seemed to make him more angry.

Anger felt like he made the earth shake and the sun burn. Things never seemed settled or safe when he was around.

It took a long time and some gentle reminders from a friend to realize anger was just as scared as I was. Anger was fragile and only came around when things weren't right. He really wanted to come to our defense but we were busy running and hiding. He was loud and clumsy but he just wanted us to listen. He didn't break things on purpose and he never wanted to hurt me, he just needed to be seen and heard.

Anger has been so misunderstood. He is more like a child who has been mistreated than a monster out for blood. Anger has a lot of words he's never been able to say, and a lot of tears he has never been able to cry. Anger has held a lot of pain and he's exhausted. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed and he just needs to scream.

Anger wants to have a voice. He wants to be an advocate. He wants to fight for me, not with me. Being dismissed and silenced hurt anger and makes him lose control. What he really needs is compassion and space.

Sometimes my kids meet anger and it scares me. I'm worried how he will treat them. It doesn't always go well. But my anger likes to make space for their anger and that can make us all feel more settled and welcome.

When anger shows up, he makes me uncomfortable but I'm making space for him. He feels more free now. He doesn't have to scream because I'm listening. He still cries sometimes but we are both thankful for those tears.