Growing up I was never allowed to express my anger. It was too’ un-lady like’ and just not appropriate! I swallowed the words I should have said, squeezing them tightly between my legs. Instead, I sometimes banged kitchen cupboards, pots and pans when I was asked to help out and the rest of the time I gritted my teeth.
My husband was the only one to catch a glimpse of the ferocious rage I had buried within me. He often told me how nobody else saw that side of me because I was always so agreeable with family and friends.
In my therapy yesterday, for the first time, I voiced anger for my father who sexually abused me. He is in fact the person that all my rage should have been directed at a very long time ago! Not the cupboards, pots, pans and to some extent not my husband. Expressing that anger was liberating! I went into the session holding a lot of fear and anxiety and the anger dissolved it so that I left feeling fine.
Anger is GOOD!