It’s like Part II in a two-part post, or a two-part process. I can’t say it’s a process I’m enjoying.
I’ve admitted I need to feel my fear and day by day, as it comes up, I am. I’m acknowledging it, sitting with it, and soothing myself. And it passes. At least mostly and usually.
And then I realized that I also have to feel my anger. That one I’m not so good at.
When I was young I never got angry. Or at least I never admitted I was angry. I didn’t even know I was angry. When I was fifteen, my mother and I fought – or at least she fought with me – because she wanted me to admit I was angry that she left me when she joined the Church. I didn’t have any anger, or if I had it, I didn’t know it was there. At that point I didn’t get angry at her, or at my dad, or at anyone.
Anger scared me. It still can. I have this false belief that anger is bad, and that angry people are bad people. I’ve been known to call it an “ugly” emotion. I’m afraid that if I get angry at someone, I’ll lose them. I don’t necessarily know that anger and love can co-exist. I’m afraid that if I get angry, it will take me over and consume me. That I will only, always be angry.
Someone is trying to teach me that anger is just an emotion. Another emotion that you can let pass through you. You don’t have to be consumed by it. You don’t have to furiously express it. Sometimes you don’t have to express it at all. Just admit that you feel it and leave it at that.
They’re also trying to teach me that anger is a necessary emotion because it lets us know when we’ve been mistreated or violated. Or when something happens that we just don’t like. And though I don’t want to dwell in anger for too long, I could use it to know when my boundaries have been crossed, or ignored. That’s the only way to work on making them strong enough and protective enough.
So here’s to Part II. I can feel my anger. And let it pass through.
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