Dear friend,
How are you? And how is your beautiful heart? Hit reply and do let me know, I’d love to hear from you.💛
Every time he came to visit me, I’d slam the door abruptly in his face. “I don’t want to be seen with you,” I’d hiss through clenched lips, one wide eye glaring out through the peephole, checking to see if he’d retreated. “I can’t be seen with you.”
I often wondered why he didn’t fight harder to break through. Why he didn’t knock again - knock harder; put one foot in the gap in front of the door before I slammed it shut; why he didn’t just open his mouth and say something, anything.
Why didn’t he strive harder to be heard?
Why didn’t he make himself known, scream all he needed to say, over and over again if he had to, so that I would finally pay him some attention? Instead, he’d just leave as quickly as he came, skulking down the garden path and off into the thick black of the night.
I didn’t have to do much, to be honest. Just a few simple words, and he was gone.
Or so I thought.
I’d always been taught to be wary of those like him. That those like him had no place in a girl's - in a woman’s - life. And those who did choose to let him in, who allowed him to speak and gain control, were unruly, unstable, crazy even.
I was taught that I could not be a woman like that. I was to be tame, submissive, even silent. He could have no place in my life, and I, no place in his. We could never be together because he, he apparently, brought out the worst in me. It’s just a shame that more often than not, the ‘worst’ in a woman is often a woman’s truth, disguised under layers and layers of emotion. But they made me believe, because of this, that we could never be together. So I cast him away time and time again, not knowing that he was always lurking in the shadows just around the corner, waiting for the day when I would invite him in of my own accord.
And the day I finally did, everything changed.
Getting to know Anger, in recent times, has been an adventure that I just wasn’t expecting. Sure, in the past I have felt anger, but never allowed myself to feel it fully. Sure, in the past I have felt anger, but did I ever see anger? Did I ever free anger? Most definitely not.
One of the stories I have told myself my whole life is that I am not the type of person who gets angry. I was safe and comfortable in my people-pleasing persona, not wanting to be labelled as someone who couldn’t control themselves or their emotions. Maybe there are similar stories you have told or continue to tell yourself in your own life.
But upon inviting Anger in, sitting face-to-face with each other and getting to know him on a deep and intimate level, I realised that Anger is so misjudged and so misunderstood in our world. Anger is so much more than what we have been taught to believe. Anger is not an enemy; Anger can very well be a guiding, loving, soothing friend.
Looking back on my life, I see that Anger was present in many defining moments. He was there whenever I felt unheard and unseen - but knowing no way to communicate with him, Anger morphed into self-inflicted harm, physical and non-physical.
Anger became my silence, he became my submission, he became scratches and scars on my arms, and he became my acceptance of places and people who didn’t see or value my worth. Anger, with a muzzle over his mouth, soon contorted himself into bitterness and resentment and deep-rooted pain living within me. Scared to allow Anger a platform, afraid to shine a spotlight on him centre stage in my heart, I neglected all the gifts he was selflessly bringing to me. I was willfully rejecting all of the offerings he was freely delivering to me because I was so, so afraid to be consumed by the flames of his fury.
But here’s one thing that Anger told me, as we sat together one spring evening, knees touching, eyes locked together, hearts wide open. Anger looked me straight in the eye, straight through to my soul, and whispered, “My fire does not have to be destructive. Use my flames for how they were intended, and you can set your life on fire - in the most beautiful ways.”
Anger explained that he didn’t need to be loud to be heard.
He explained that he didn’t have to shout or scream or lose control to create change.
He told me that he could work in the most subtle of ways, awakening parts of me long-neglected and parts of me that I wasn’t even aware existed.
When he spoke, he reminded me of something that struck me beautifully in the book Welcome Home by Najwa Zebian, where she wrote:
“Understand that not allowing yourself to be angry doesn’t make you a good or calm person. Not allowing yourself to be angry will stop you from seeing the story as it is. It will stop you from seeing yourself as you are. It will block your vision from seeing the truth. From seeing your truth. What we were never taught is that anger is a healthy and normal human emotion that is meant to bring us relief and resolution… and when we stop ourselves from expressing it (even worse, stop ourselves from feeling it), it could be - actually, it definitely will be - detrimental to our clarity.”
What I know now is that Anger can be kind and gentle, yet firm.
Anger can be softly and quietly walking away from all that is no longer meant for you.
Anger can be the refusal to accept a world in which some children matter more than others, simply because of the colour of their skin and where they live.
Anger can be the fuel to drive inner change, which in turn creates outer change.
Anger can be the catalyst for the beginning of a brand new world, one in which we are all free - inside and out.
Anger can be setting boundaries, anger can be saying no, and anger can be striving for the life that you’re beginning to realise you deserve.
Anger is not all hell and fury.
Anger is sometimes exactly what is needed to give rise to the ashes from which the phoenix will rise.
So now, when my good friend Anger knocks upon my door, I pull on my dressing gown, make my way to him and let him in. We sit, we speak, we drink tea.
He leaves when we have both had our fill, when we have both been seen and been heard, when we are both ready. And he is free now - free to come and go whenever, wherever, whatever.
He doesn’t need to lurk outside in the shadows any longer. I am afraid no more.
With Light, Love & Peace,
Sabah x
I am walking/jogging/running 150km from 15th May - 15th June to raise funds to provide urgent medical aid to those in Palestine. Please support me with a small donation of whatever you can give to help our suffering brothers and sisters in humanity.
Check out my latest arty YouTube video:
🖋What I’ve been writing: Honestly, nothing up until now 😥 but that’s all set to change. However, I have been posting a lot of stream-of-consciousness videos on my Instagram and TikTok. Check them out and let’s connect there too 😊
📚What I’m reading: Welcome Home by Najwa Zebian - a self-help and healing book all about creating a stable and solid foundation and home within yourself. It’s a powerful and beautiful read so far.
🎧What I’m listening to: The Only Constant by Najwa Zebian on Audible.
🎶Song of the Week/Month/YEAR: Hinds Hall by Macklemore 🇵🇸
💭Quote I’m contemplating: “A good head and good heart are always a formidable combination. But when you add to that a literate tongue or pen, then you have something very special.” ~ Nelson Mandela.
📖Substacks I’m loving: In Defense of Love by
and Initiation by Starvation by🇵🇸 Donate to Palestine 🇵🇸
☕️Buy me a coffee if you like ☕️
✨Catch up on previous Love Letters✨
Sabah, this was so beautifully written and heartfelt. I love the way you personified Anger to say, “My fire does not have to be destructive. Use my flames for how they were intended, and you can set your life on fire - in the most beautiful ways.” I truly felt this - how anger, just like any other emotion when expressed with the right balance, can serve us instead of make us suffer. Historically speaking, I feel like women specifically have been discouraged from expressing their anger, precisely because they have so much to be angry about. By taking away our anger and our authentic voices, the system was more easily able to subjugate us. But no more. Thank you for sharing how Anger can indeed be like a best friend, a confidante, someone worthy of being seen and heard. This is one of my favorite posts you’ve written.❤️ And thank you so much for recommending my essay!!!❤️🥰😘