Let’s talk about rage, baby
why being angry can be a good thing
People often talk about the ‘righteous indignation of youth’, but as someone who experienced plenty of that (try being a British Asian Muslim teenager in the 00s and dealing with lurid Islamophobic tabloid headlines, low-rise jeans, and the most overrated film of the decade, Love Actually, trying to gaslight us into thinking that Martine McCutcheon was ‘fat’) - let me tell you that it is nothing compared to the rage of a hormonally fluctuating woman in the early years of motherhood. I am simultaneously the most tender that I have ever been, and the most rage-filled.
During a video chat with my dad recently, he asked me with genuine curiosity: how did you become so patient? It was a fair enough question, given that my daughter was climbing all over me, shouting for another nibble of the piece of Dairy Milk that I foolishly let her sample, while I was trying to hold a conversation. You were never really very patient, he added for good measure.
Over the following days, I considered this question. It’s true that a propensity towards impatience is a flaw of mine (inherited from my father, incidentally). A ‘personality test’ that I took early on in my professional career, at the behest of my boss at the time, made the following flattering observations:
Shahnaz exhibits impatience with disorganised individuals.
And:
Shahnaz may benefit from:
Controlling her occasional moments of anger.
Becoming more patient and less restless.
You get the idea.
However, my dad’s observation was rooted in something real. I have my moments, of course, where I snap and regret it (and sometimes don’t) - but generally it’s true that I demonstrate amounts of patience towards my children that I didn’t know I held. And although I have developed this zen muscle with regard to my kids, I have noted a simultaneous rise in anger in other spheres of my life. It’s a well-worn cliche that women approaching middle age are angrier, and it’s backed up by research too. But what’s going on here really?
Some of my theories as to why so many of us are angrier:
There is legitimately a lot in the world to be angry about…: every generation thinks that they are closer to the end of times than any other (and I suppose technically, they are right) but with the state of the world right now, how - and I ask this genuinely - can anyone not be angry? With wars, famine, corrupt political leadership, widening economic and social inequality, and the climate crisis - the list feels endless.
…AND it hits harder thanks to the 24/7 news cycle: terrible things have always happened, but never before have we had genocide live-streamed into our pockets. With the proliferation of social media and the fact that we are always - literally - plugged into a constant stream of information means that we are seeing and hearing more than ever before, able to access traumatising footage at the mere tap of a screen. Our issue isn’t a lack of information: it’s the difficulty in coping with the content we are exposed to, and the energy required to responsibly interrogate, sift, and process the information we receive. And it’s also emotionally draining, with grief and horror often existing alongside the anger we feel at the state of the world.
We care less about offending others: it’s well established that women are more disposed towards people-pleasing as a result of the social conditioning we experience from a young age to be ‘agreeable’: it even has its own name - Good Girl Syndrome. But with age, and often with kids now being in the mix, many of us simply don’t have the bandwidth to accommodate people with reprehensible opinions. I have a finite amount of energy: I’m not going to spend it trying to mollify people I fundamentally disagree with over things that matter to me. I am very glad that I no longer work in an office environment, as I’m not sure I’d have the capacity to sit through some of the painful encounters that I endured earlier on in my career. This can also be partly down to the fact that…
…our bodies and minds are changing: women go through so many hormonal changes as we age, and yet this is rarely spoken about. Adolescence and the changes of puberty are taught in schools through the lens of biology; but hardly anything is taught about the shifts in mood that comes with peri-menopause or menopause, or the changes in women’s bodies after pregnancy and childbirth. If hormones are ever mentioned in popular culture, it’s with humour and often thinly-veiled derision: silly grumpy ladies nagging their poor husbands. But the effects of hormonal shifts, levels of vitamins and essential minerals, and a lack of sleep are no joke, and can affect mood hugely. Compounded with all the other factors, it’s easy to see why when we have such limited energy, we can’t waste it on trying to repress our feelings.
So how can anger be a good thing?
We have been socially conditioned to believe that anger and rage are unevolved, ‘negative’ emotions. In truth, no emotion is innately good or bad: just look at the creep of toxic positivity (live, laugh love!), or the cringey LinkedIn corporate bods advocating for ‘growth mindset’, and we can see how things that are generally perceived as ‘positive’ like optimism and resilience can also be taken too far. Similarly, we are told that anger - especially female anger - demonstrates a loss of control, a suspension of that Enlightenment obsession - ‘rationality’. Women don’t feel righteous anger, they get hysterical, remember?
The result is that people are often afraid to confront their own anger, let alone anyone else’s. This repression prevents us from recognising anger as being a valid - even liberating - emotion. A recent conversation with my therapist reminded me of the different ways in which anger can be helpful:
It tells us something that we need to hear: anger can tell us something about the situation, environment, or people we are encountering. When we find ourselves moving towards anger, it’s a sign to take stock of what else is going on within and around us. What is happening that is causing this shift in our body - a quickening pulse, or raised heartbeat, a rise in cortisol - the stress hormone? What is it about my environment or who I am engaging with that is making me feel unsafe, or prompting this fight/flight response? Anger can be a warning light that perhaps my boundaries are being transgressed or my sense of security is being breached. And it can give me the signal to remove myself from the situation: I’m not obligated to endure this - and therefore protect myself from an unhelpful interaction.
It reminds us of our - and other people’s - values: anger can be useful as an anchoring emotion. It can be an important reminder of what we stand for: our core values, principles, and ethics that frame how we see the world. When we see these things being dismissed, even totally annihilated, it can provoke anger in us - this is a good thing because it shows that we care. When we come across people who are not moved to anger by the same things we are, it can also call into question whether our values are aligned. And the alignment of fundamental values is something that truly matters to me. The old adage - don’t take criticism from someone you wouldn’t take advice from - holds a lot of wisdom. If someone isn’t angry about the same things I am, it offers me important information as to how much I ought to take their perspective - of the world, of me, my family, and the things I care about - to heart. And, frankly, if you aren’t angry that the collective wealth of billionaires increased by $2 trillion in the last year alone, while one billion children around the world currently experience multidimensional poverty, - or if you aren’t incensed by the fact that Gaza now has the highest rate of child amputees per capita anywhere in the world, or that 1 million people have now been displaced because of the war in Sudan doesn’t bother you at all, then it’s worth asking why these things don’t enrage you - and the answers might not be pretty.
Rage is a motivator to do something: sometimes people respond to difficult, or shocking, or sad situations with despair. While we all have our moments, despairing is an inherently useless response. I’m not talking here about the people who have had things done to them: I cannot judge the despair felt by a family who have had their home demolished, or their children kidnapped, or loved ones drowned in attempting to cross the Channel. I am talking about handwringing from people who watch the news and feel that it is all so sad and helpless, and leave it at that. That passivity is the definition of an unhelpful reaction: instead, for me, rage can propel me to do something: even if it’s just writing a piece, or sharing an article, or writing a letter to my MP.
An important caveat…
How we express an emotion often matters more than the emotion itself. Whatever the emotion, it can be manifested in both destructive and non-destructive ways. So while being moved to anger is okay, lashing out because of it isn’t okay. While rage is okay; hurting someone else out of rage isn’t. This is often easier said than done. But instead of being afraid of the emotion itself, I am trying to see anger as an old friend: when harnessed, controlled, and used well, it can be a powerful tool - a reminder of who we are, what we stand for, and what we are willing to tolerate - or not.
Take it, use it, and hold fast to the people, the causes, the beliefs that you care about.
Shahnaz x