Making friends with anger

When anger freezes

For me, depression wasn’t emptiness. It was frozen anger.

At the time I didn’t know that, I just knew I felt heavy, flat and Shut down. Like something inside me had turned to ice.

Looking back now, I can see there was so much anger in me that I had been unaware of and that had never been allowed to move.

Like many people, I had learned to be compliant. To keep the peace. To smooth things over. To override myself in relationships where my boundaries were rarely respected.

Until eventually something in me could not do it anymore.

When boundaries become walls

I began setting boundaries with people I had spent my life accommodating. Some of those relationships ended. Some became estranged.

At first it wasn’t even a boundary. It was a wall. Because when softer boundaries have never been respected, sometimes a wall is what gives us enough space to begin hearing ourselves – and healing.

And in that space, my rage arrived. Not all at once, but steadily.

The tiger under my skin

In 2018, for months, every morning, I would wake enraged. My day started with a sensation like my nerves were on fire and a tiger was pacing beneath my skin.

My son was very young then. My ex-husband would take him downstairs, and I would shut myself away alone. And I would let it move through me. I would scream into pillows, punch, bite down, scream… Then when spent, I would collapse into sobbing.

Afterwards I would feel incredibly light. Like something significant had thawed. And the next day I would do it all again. This went on for months.

That was the beginning of me coming back to life. Because rage is energy, it wants to move. Like fire, it searches for oxygen.

But most of us have never been taught what to do with it.

The hot potato

I often think of anger like a hot potato: nobody wants it.

So we either swallow it – burning ourselves from the inside – or we chuck it at someone else. Those are the patterns most of us have experienced. Repress or explode. As a receiver, both are unsettling in their own way.

Learning to let it move

But there is another way: to hold it and contain it and to get somewhere safe to give it the space it needs, to let it move through the body without harming ourselves or anyone else.

That takes practice and trust.

On the dance floor

I remember more recently in 2025 at an ecstatic dance when rage rose in me so suddenly it took over my whole body.

I stood there in the dark, surrounded by people, feeling it surge. I looked across the room towards the nearby wall and thought, I could give it to the wall. But I felt too exposed.

So I dropped to the floor, onto my knees, in the middle of everybody, and pounded the ground with my fists until it was done.

And when I stood up, something extraordinary happened.

People weren’t avoiding me, they were dancing with me. There seemed to be something about allowing that raw, honest expression that changed the energy around me.

Anger as life force

These experiences taught me something important. Anger is not our enemy. It is often our life force. Protection. Truth. Boundary. Clarity. For so long I was afraid of anger – my own and other people’s. 

My experiences of it had taught me it was dangerous and shameful. But over time, by letting it move safely, I became less afraid. Now I trust it. I know how to listen to it. I know how to let it move. And because of that, I can hold space for it in others too. When clients meet anger in sessions, I welcome this and appreciate their courage. And I know that underneath it there is often grief, truth, hurt, and a part of them that is finally ready to stop carrying what was never theirs to hold. 

Making friends with fire

Making friends with anger doesn’t mean becoming angry all the time; it means no longer being afraid of our own fire.

It means learning that anger can move through us without destroying us or those we love. And sometimes, when it does, it melts the very thing that has been keeping us frozen, stuck, feeling heavy or low.

When anger is welcome

If anger feels close to the surface, or buried so deeply you can barely feel it at all, it can be supportive to explore it with someone who can help you feel safe in your body.

In my work at Rooted Wellbeing, anger is welcome. Through somatic bodywork, EFT and embodied health sessions, we can gently explore what your body has been holding, and what it might be ready to release. You’re welcome to book a session or arrange a call back to chat if this resonates.