I used to be in a relationship where anger was a central theme. He was much larger than me so when he flew into a temper, which he often did and I often couldn’t tell what would set him off, his eyes would grow large and mean. His mouth would twist around the edges. He would tower over me to intimidate, to scare, to terrorise, to get me to submit to whatever ridiculous reason he was raging about.
Growing up, I always had the reputation of “the angry one” in the family. I don’t know when the title stuck but quite early on I realised that anger got things done. When I was angry, what I lacked in size or age or the fact that I was a girl — none of it mattered. My loud voice, the icy stares and the “tantrum” I could throw could drown out everything and everyone else. People would listen, people would obey. I would get my way. I’d like to think I used this “power” wisely but I know that’s not true. While I never intended to abuse the method, it soon became my default mode because getting angry was so easy.
The relationship I mention above showed me how ugly anger can be. It’s not a good look. Not on the customer having a meltdown with staff in a shop or restaurant. Not on the parent who publicly scolds their child. Not on the boss who yells at an employee. There’s a clear power dynamic in each of these instances and anger cements it.
Anger, like happiness and sadness and excitement and fatigue, is a very real emotion. And like all emotions, it needs to be expressed. Amira often says how not learning to manage anger is like telling a child that wetting themselves is wrong instead of toilet training them. We’ve come as far as to know that it’s normal for men to cry, to show emotion. In fact, it’s encouraged. Celebrated. As it should be. But there’s not enough of a parallel conversation about acceptable ways for women to get angry.
The angry black woman is a well-known, damaging stereotype. How then does a black woman behave when she’s angry?
One of the biggest lessons from that angry relationship was how pointless, and damaging, blind rage is. But anger with direction and purpose, when measured, can be a powerful, beautiful thing.
Just look at the #MeToo movement (coincidentally initiated by Tarana Burke, a black woman survivor of sexual harassment).
At Greta Thunberg.
But what makes Greta angry might not have a similar effect on another woman. And so, in the absence of a rule book for anger, how do women define their own?
I’m not an anger expert, but as a recovering rager and as someone who has been on the receiving end of mindless rage, here are some useful ways to think about it:
I’m allowed to be angry. But is my anger necessary?
Is my anger healthy? Or am I being angry in a way that does damage to myself or someone else? One of the healthiest outcomes of anger can be to use a negative experience to help someone else facing a similar situation.
Do I need to be angry now? Or is there a better time to be angry?
Do I need to be angry? Or is this someone else’s anger?
What will I do with my anger? How will I make it come alive in the world and what will this look like when I’ve cooled off? Pro tip: Screaming at a telecaller will not solve your frustration at the incompetency of a major corporation just like your family will be less forgiving if you take it out on them every time you have a bad day at the office.
Can I create something beautiful, some kind of art, with my anger?
How can I be bigger than my anger rather than allow my anger to become bigger than me?
And harder still but more importantly, as a woman, what does how I show anger mean for how women will be judged when they show up with theirs?
I tried to come up with a clever mnemonic to make remembering this easy (any suggestions are welcome). I couldn’t and maybe that’s an indicator that remembering any or all of this when you’re angry is tough. But it’s a start and we can try.
Women in 2021 enjoy many of the privileges we do because women who came before us raged about voting rights, the right to be paid equally to men, to enter places and hold positions they weren’t traditionally allowed to.
Take a moment to cheer for these recent hard-won successes:
Sumayya Usmani, who is the 2021 winner of the Next Chapter Award by Scottish Book Trust
Swati Sharma, who has become the new editor-in-chief of Vox
Simone Ashley, who will play the lead in the second season of Netflix and Shonda Rhimes’, Bridgerton
Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala is the first woman and first African to become Director-General of the World Trade Organization in its 73-year history. Her term starts on March 1, 2021.
Renee Capazzola also made history to become the first woman to win the prestigious Underwater Photographer of the Year.
Dr Swati Mohan, NASA’s Mars 2020 Guidance, Navigation, and Controls Operations Lead
And I’m late to this one but Samira Nasr became the first black editor of the American edition of Harper’s Bazaar magazine.
Recently, when I was angry, I went on an almost four-kilometre walk. I didn’t know why I had walked as much as I had until I got back. But I learnt that it’s a great way to blow off some steam. All that energy coursing through your body is best spent outdoors, burning it off. Extra points if you can do this somewhere with a little green and blue, whether sky or sea. I’ve found nature to be a potent mood changer.
But if you can’t get outside, here’s something fun I came across. When in doubt, channel your inner teenager and dance it out.
An angry woman is not a spectacle. But there are times when anger is the most appropriate response. Essential even.
Greta is angry. And there is great power in that.
Malala isn’t. And there’s great power in that too.
Women need space to rage on their own terms. They need room to figure out who their angry selves are and how to strike a balance between assertive and aggressive. Women must develop this language to speak to each other about what makes them angry and what they will do about it. And other women need to hold space for them while they do.
To women everywhere conquering and turning our anger into a secret superpower,
xx
AA
This is very powerful. Thanks for sharing your journey with anger. Like you, I grew up thinking anger gets things done. Influential people around me had showed me that it's possible. But, as you rightly asked, is it really necessary? I struggled with this myself and realized my anger presents itself differently - not fierce eyes but moist ones. When I get angry I cry. It was cathartic, but didn't help. So over time, I have learned to manage my anger. Like my favourite superhero, The Hulk, I am ALWAYS angry. I have found outlets to channel that anger - in brisk walks, in brutally honest words in my journal, in art, in healthy debates, and in the quiet of my apartment.
P.S. I am deeply sorry for your experience in a relationship where anger was the central theme. While not the most nurturing I hope you learned something from it.