Most women I work with don’t struggle with anger because they feel too much of it. They struggle because they’ve learned not to feel it at all.
Or, more precisely, they’ve learned to evaluate, suppress, dismiss, and rationalise it. Anger becomes something to avoid, not explore. Something shameful. Dangerous. Unbecoming. Especially for women raised to be likable, kind, spiritually evolved, or endlessly accommodating.
We are not only taught not to recognise it. We’re taught not to honour it. And we are often punished for expressing it. So our relationship with it stays stuck in childhood. Anger becomes an emotion that does not mature as we mature. It shows up in adult bodies with childlike legs. And so it gets expressed not through clarity, but through misalignment, powerlessness, or emotional impotence.
But here’s the truth: Anger is not a problem. It’s a portal.
It’s the knock on the door that tells you a part of yourself is being ignored, silenced, or overrun. Anger often shows up when:
- A boundary is crossed (again)
- A truth goes unspoken (again)
- An act of self-betrayal has become habitual (again)
But because we’re not taught to recognise or respect it, we suppress it, or worse, we use it to explode rather than to clarify. The problem isn’t anger. It’s what we do (or don’t do) with it.
Why anger matters:
Anger is critical to our inner world because it reveals what we value, what we fear losing, and what matters most. It is intimately tied to our sense of dignity and desire. And it holds tremendous value in how we shape our external world, in our relationships, our work, and the social systems we operate in.
When we deny anger, we don’t become more peaceful. We become more passive. More brittle. More burned out. Reclaiming our anger is an act of wholeness and of courage.
A client recently said to me, “Thank you, Safiyyah, for giving me permission to feel my feelings.”
She wasn’t being flippant. Her expression was heavy with something deeper, as if some part of her had been waiting for this moment.
She didn’t realise she could feel this. She thought she had to be polite. Accommodating. Soft. Smiling. Safe.
She wasn’t even feeling her feelings. She was evaluating them. Dissecting whether they were right or wrong. And in the process, she missed their wisdom. Anger is nuanced. It’s potent. And it comes bearing gifts: clarity, truth, protection, boundaries, healing.
How we were taught to fear, avoid, and punish anger
From an early age, many of us were given the message that anger was unacceptable. We were rewarded for staying sweet and punished for being “too much.” As a result, we internalised the belief that anger is something to be ashamed of. That it’s dangerous. That it makes us less lovable. We learned to swallow it or twist it into guilt, sarcasm, tears, or silence. In doing so, we cut ourselves off from one of the most important emotional indicators of our humanity.
How anger is the first whisper of our boundaries
Anger often arrives before words do. It flares up in the body before the mind can explain why. That tightness in your chest, the heat in your neck, the tension in your jaw — these are not nuisances. They are boundary alarms. When something sacred is being crossed, anger speaks first. Not to cause harm, but to invite honesty. Not to destroy, but to defend what matters. Anger shows us where we end and another begins. It helps us reclaim our edges.
Why reclaiming anger is a radical act of wellbeing and self-leadership
To honour anger is to reclaim your full aliveness. It’s not about lashing out. It’s about recognising that this emotion carries intelligence. When we respond to anger with curiosity instead of judgment, we step into self-responsibility. We no longer wait for permission to protect ourselves or speak the truth. We lead from within. In a world that conditions women to doubt themselves, reclaiming anger is an act of power, of healing, of wholeness.
We’ll also begin asking new questions:
What does anger have to do with fear?
Fear often masks itself as control or avoidance. But anger shows us where fear has been holding the reins for too long. Where we are scared to lose approval, love, or security — anger tells us something has already been lost: our truth.
What does anger have to do with hope?
Anger exists because we care. Because we still hope for better. If we had no hope, we’d feel nothing. Anger is a strange kind of optimism. It believes that what is happening is not what should be, and that something else is possible.
What does anger have to do with grief and anticipatory loss?
Sometimes we feel angry not because of what has happened, but because of what might. We feel the grief of a future we fear losing. Anger rises as a defence against powerlessness. Against sorrow. It is often the body’s attempt to mobilise and protect what feels like it’s slipping away.
How do we learn to adult with our anger, not react from our younger, frightened selves?
We start by listening. We slow down. We recognise the child in us that still feels invisible or unsafe. We learn to hold anger with compassion and dignity. To give it a place at the table, without letting it flip the table over. Maturing with anger means letting it inform us, not control us. It means growing our capacity to respond with clarity, rather than react from pain.
What does anger have to do with influence?
Anger, when unconscious or unexamined, can become a block to our effectiveness. Especially in leadership, where influence depends on clarity and relational presence, unmanaged anger can leak through our tone, our body language, and our energy. I’ve seen teams undermine their own credibility because their anger, although valid, wasn’t being named or processed. Influence doesn’t require us to be emotionless. It requires us to be emotionally fluent. Influence with unintegrated anger is like speaking truth through a clenched jaw. It distorts the message.
What does burnout have to do with fire?
There’s a cruel irony here. Burnout is often felt by people who have never truly been on fire. Because being on fire is not about overdoing … it’s about feeling. It’s about being alive to your own emotions. Anger, especially, is the one that often goes underground. When it is disallowed, when we are constantly appeasing, when we suppress and deny … and we exist in the dull middle of unaliveness. We don’t just lose energy. We lose vitality. To burn bright, we have to honour the fire inside us, even when it flares.
What does anger have to do with love?
Anger and love are not opposites. They are kin. Anger arises when something we love feels threatened, dishonoured, or unmet. It is love’s bodyguard. Its fierce protector. When we repress anger, we often cut off the full expression of love too. Love without boundaries is self-erasure. Anger without love is misdirected pain. But together, they are part of the same truth-telling force that demands we show up, speak out, and stand firm.
5 Small Shifts for Big Magic
- Shift from Shame to Signal
Ask: What if anger isn’t a problem to solve, but a message to receive? - Name the Real Fear
Is it anger you’re afraid of? Or the consequences of what happens when you express your truth? - Uncouple Anger from Destruction
Consider: What if anger could be clear, grounded, even merciful? - Notice Your Patterns
Do you explode, suppress, withdraw, appease? How do you typically respond when anger arises? - Create a Safe Space for Expression
Where (or with whom) can you practice expressing anger honestly without shame?
Reflection Questions
- What messages did I receive about anger growing up, especially as a girl or woman?
- When was the last time I felt anger? Did I honour it, or suppress it?
- What truth might my anger be trying to bring to the surface?
- How do I differentiate between reactive anger and protective clarity?
- What boundary might I need to strengthen based on the anger I’ve felt?
Let’s give ourselves permission to feel it all.
This was part 1. See you next week for Part 2.
This month’s webinar is about Knowing and Naming Your Inner Critic, those internal voices that make you question your emotions, your intuition, and your worth. Especially your anger.
