Have you ever wished you could express your anger smoothly—without your voice shaking, without shedding a tear, without a stutter?
For the longest time, that was my secret wish.
I wanted to express my sentiments with clarity and confidence, just like how I did in the conversations inside my head. I wished I could raise my voice at just the right tone, assert my boundaries, and stop being an easy target for toxicity at work.
I envied those who could command dominance with a single sentence—those whose mere presence could make others back off.
That wasn’t me. “I could never,” I thought.
Instead, I absorbed the nasty remarks in silence, with no witty comeback, no firm rebuttal. Because if I did respond, my words would likely be laced with unchecked rage. I might throw daggers of hurtful truths and feared tarnishing the innocent image I had carefully maintained.
Unfortunately, my passivity made me the perfect target. Bullies thrived on my rabbit-like reactions—watching me click my tongue, shrug my shoulders, and furrow my brows, all while swallowing my anger.
I told myself this was patience. I convinced myself that staying silent was the high road. But in reality, I was unknowingly storing every insult, every slight, into an invisible bubble.
Little did I know, that bubble wasn’t holding patience—it was holding resentment. And when it finally burst, the explosion was catastrophic.
The anger I had suppressed for so long erupted in ways that startled even me—lashing out, throwing punches, hurling objects. My sudden fury sent my tormentors retreating, finally realizing I wasn’t someone they could push around anymore.
For a moment, I prided myself on it. I had reclaimed my power. People cheered me on for fighting back. No one dared to belittle me again.
But… the more it happens, the aftermath becomes more and more unsettling, too.
The sad truth I realized is that, these outbursts didn’t just reveal a hidden strength; it exposed how much bitterness I had been hoarding.
My rage was the result of years of suppression, bursting out in uncontrollable waves. And that realization scared me.
I didn’t want to be the person who exploded only when pushed too far. I wanted to be someone who could express frustration without being consumed by it. I wanted to be assertive without being resentful.
So, I began the work.
Revealing Myself More…
I started revealing my deepest secrets. I showed people who I truly am and ran away from the perfect image I had built over the years. I am not kind nor innocent. I have my flaws and bitterness, too.
I cried in front of others. Showed how I truly feel.
I shared my story with people, swallowing the lump of anxiety stuck in my throat. Every day, with every opportunity, I revealed more of myself. When people began accepting the new me, my thoughts flowed more freely.
And the more I became honest and straightforward, the more I could regulate my emotions.
I have learned to speak up without fearing that people will think badly of me. Because, yes, I am not a perfect person. I carry flaws and negative emotions just like anyone else. I’m not a puppy. I have fangs I can show.
But most importantly, I can show my fangs without overthinking it.
Now, when I get mad, I don’t tremble, I don’t lash out, and I don’t let resentment consume me. I speak my truth, calmly and straight to the point.
I’ve reached this point where I can look mad, but not angry at all.
…Led Me to Realize A Healthier Way To Express Anger
I can raise my voice firm and strong to express how something is wrong.
I might be disappointed about what you’re doing. But I’m not mad at you, not at all.
I can use my anger to instill discipline and correction, yet let it go just as easily, without carrying its weight.
I’ve learned to express myself without sarcasm or angst—without my voice cracking or my heart racing.
I’m free from the prison of suppressed anger.
Finally, I reached this point.
There is strength on standing ground on my morals, discerning what’s right and wrong, and speaking about it.
Because if no one calls out the evil, the good in this world eventually loses.
I learned to call them out gently. Use reason, not brute power.
How about you?
How much anger do you allow the world to see? Is the person you present to others the same as the one that exists within?
Do you keep your judgments and resentments locked away, waiting for the moment they finally break free?
Or have you found a way to release them without letting them control you? At what stage of this journey are you on?
Share your thoughts below. 🙂 And thanks for reading!
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