Here's the secret to happiness in relationships: honor your anger.
The one thing I hate more than pansy-assness is the repression of women's anger. If I happen to use strong language, if I happen to speak directly or emphatically, I'll get a well-meaning friend asking, "You sound angry, what's wrong?"
While I could write about how society expects women to speak in a certain (read: passive-aggressive/puny) way, this post is actually about the implication underlying that statement: something "wrong" with being angry.
Laugh at them. The truth is:
You can't have a true relationship if you've locked your anger away. Why? Because you'll never understand what being human feels like. And who wants to date a robot?
Sacred Fire: What Anger Looks Like
I'm not talking about some quiet hippie "When you do X, I feel angry," kind of mad that they teach in couple's workshops.
I'm talking bruise my legs purple in pole class, take two trains and a bus to get home, and need to go to another dance class even though I only slept four hours and missed picking my car up from the shop because I started talking to a random Christian on the subway about trusting God and had to bum a ride home off a pastry chef I just met kind of angry.
I'm talking watching your dreams marred - again - kind of angry.
I'm talking about a lifetime of being told you're too sensitive kind of angry.
They're damn right you're sensitive.
Thank god someone still exists who can feel.
Thank god for you, who absorbs the emotions and actions and state of another, and is alive enough to be moved by them.
Without this, there would be no connecting humans to one another. We would simply be alone, unaffected, mild.
This is our gift, as women. Anger so pure and energetic that if we only allow ourselves to be in it, it will fuel us for hours beyond what our limited minds believe.
Why do you think nobody wants to see it? Our anger is so powerful, so transformative, and so capable of creation that the world wants to hide it away.
Men tell us to smile.
Mothers hush our painted lips.
Well-meaning loved ones hasten to cheer us up.
As if cheer is superior to this Kali spirit that makes women both divine and real.
Don't let them tell you how you should be.
Don't be ashamed of your anger. Your tears that come because we're boxed so tightly in we can't even scream. It's not anger that destroys relationships and hurts you or others, but the fear of your anger. We watched our parents gripped by a terrified rage. We saw men punch walls.
That's not anger. That's repression given a match.
It doesn't have to be that way.
It starts with us.
Hold your anger sacred. As sacred as I hope you hold your sex, your vulnerability, your quick mind, your love.
Hold this creative energy and see how clean a flame it really burns when given its say.
Trust that you will know where to put it. That you will not hurt others. And most of all, you will heal yourself.
It is not enough to simply accept. You must cherish. You must respect.
Treasure your anger.
It will push you out of your bindings. It has lessons for you yet.
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