Anger

Anger is exactly the right emotion sometimes, though it's usually regarded otherwise, especially to the person at the receiving end of it.

Not long ago, I sent someone a snarky text message, to which the response was, "Anger doesn't become you."

Doesn't become me?  Is anger a fashion accessory, not my color?  Or the emotional equivalent of a bad haircut?

Well, that didn't deter me.  Anger feels, well, liberating.

"Where's the real Linda?" the text continued.

It's true that my go-to emotion is not anger; it's the frozen version of it--depression.  Could that be because I received messages--as most women in our culture did--that we don't look good angry? That we should be sweet and agreeable, even when what's happening is disagreeable and enraging?

In high school autograph books and yearbooks, we girls wrote to each other unfortunate messages like these:

Stay as sweet as you are.  Never change.

U R 2 Sweet
2 B forgotten....

Sweetness is overrated.  It masks unappreciated emotions and flattens nuances of feelings.  It keeps us in our boxes, keeps us silent, and covers up some of the less pleasant authentic feelings that rise up when we feel we've been wronged.

This is why Harriet Lerner's book spoke to me.  When we tell another person that we've been hurt by something they've said or done, what we really want is a validation of our feelings, not one of the plethora of defenses:

"You're crazy!"

"It's not my fault. It's So-and-So's fault."

"That's hilarious."

"You're so cute when you're mad."

"Anger doesn't look good on you."