An angry woman

Feelings of anger are preferably meant to be buried and dealt with alone, far away from watchful eyes especially if you happen to be a woman. It’s unbecoming, unfeminine and it will be how you will be defined forevermore should anyone experience your wrath. Why does society condemn anger in women? We applaud men who stand up for themselves and call them masculine but shudder when a woman has finally had enough, calling them names from ‘bitch’ to ‘shrill’ and ‘difficult’.

I have the right to experience every emotion there is and not feel less of a woman because of it. I am tired of concealing what makes you uncomfortable under a polite smile and words of ‘I’m just tired’. Anger is universal and so much more consuming when you’re forced to withhold it from the world. It continues to burn long after should you have been allowed to put it out in the open, often manifesting itself in a myriad of physical symptoms.

I’m often angry but most of the time you wouldn’t be able to tell. I’ll cry ugly tears of frustration from the buildup of anger throughout the day, once in an empty bathroom stall or in the four corners of my room, when I can’t bottle up anymore and the floodgates burst.

I’m angry when I see men dismissing women’s feelings and calling them emotional, inserting their own narrative over their words because it’s easier than actually acknowledging what women are saying.

I’m angry when I’m being groped on a packed train by men twice my age in a foreign country and when I call them out on it, they act shocked or completely ignore me, or when I tell men that no, I don’t want to go out with them and they don’t take my answer seriously until I tell them ‘I have a boyfriend’ as if my word means nothing until I’m seen as a property of another man. I’m angry when men tell me to smile or when they wolf-whistle at me when I'm walking down the street.

I’m angry when I have to deal with my racist uncle during family get-togethers and all he remembers from our conversations is that I get so angry, forgetting all of my arguments about why his racist worldview is flawed. Even my own mother dismisses all of the horrible things he says and instead of taking my side, tells me to calm down because it’s not a done thing to tell a man to check what he is saying but totally acceptable to ask a woman to keep it down to maintain peace.

I’m angry that in my family, women instead of standing up to men, have been taught to placate them in order to keep their fragile egos intact, and act as peace-keepers whatever the cost.

I’m angry when my own father doesn’t take my concerns seriously but pays attention when it is my brother that’s talking as if what he is saying is more valid because of his gender.

I’m angry when I see women quitting education and the workforce in order to have children without plans for the future, reassured by their husbands’ promises that they will always be there to support them financially. I’ve seen those same husbands treat them like dirt and servants because they’re the breadwinners and divorce them once the children have grown up, leaving them with no skills but to start again with entry-level jobs.

What angers me is the ease with which we dismiss male anger but don’t do the same for women. We label them as ‘angry women’ which might as well be the scarlet letter and allow those labels to stick as if the emotion was ever-present and not fleeting. We don’t see those same angry women coming from a place of hurt but as a threat. Even much more, if you happen to be a black woman or from an ethnic minority.

By withholding anger we let men get away with so much when in an ideal society we’d let those frustrations out as they come which would hopefully lead to more of an understanding of what sparks those universal bouts of anger. I’m trying to unlearn the need to always have to be perceived as kind and calm and automatically trying to not hurt your feelings when it is you who have hurt mine. I’m trying to learn to voice my hurt.

It’s high time we stop conditioning young girls to hide their anger and instead learn to tell them it’s okay to feel it. Let’s make young boys see women’s anger as natural and teach them to acknowledge it. By openly showing our feelings of anger, we have a chance to collectively bring about changes to the things that make us so angry in the first place.

Let’s be angry together.