Dance of Anger: A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships (2 page)

Why are angry women so threatening to others? If we are guilty, depressed, or self-doubting, we stay in place. We do not take action except against our own selves and we are unlikely to be agents of personal and social change. In contrast, angry women may change and challenge the lives of us all, as witnessed by the past decade of feminism. And change is an anxiety-arousing and difficult business for everyone, including those of us who are actively pushing for it.

Thus, we too learn to fear our own anger, not only because it brings about the disapproval of others, but also because it signals the necessity for change. We may begin to ask ourselves questions that serve to block or invalidate our own experience of anger: “Is my anger legitimate?” “Do I have a right to be angry?” “What’s the use of my getting angry?” “What good will it do?” These questions can be excellent ways of silencing ourselves and shutting off our anger.

Let us question these questions. Anger is neither legitimate nor illegitimate, meaningful nor pointless. Anger simply is. To ask, “Is my anger legitimate?” is similar to asking, “Do I have a right to be thirsty? After all, I just had a glass of water fifteen minutes ago. Surely my thirst is not legitimate. And besides, what’s the point of getting thirsty when I can’t get anything to drink now, anyway?”

Anger is something we feel. It exists for a reason and always deserves our respect and attention. We all have a right to
everything
we feel—and certainly our anger is no exception.

There
are
questions about anger, however, that may be helpful to ask ourselves: “What am I really angry about?” “What is the problem, and whose problem is it?” “How can I sort out who is responsible for what?” “How can I learn to express my anger in a way that will not leave me feeling helpless and powerless?” “When I’m angry, how can I clearly communicate my position without becoming defensive or attacking?” “What risks and losses might I face if I become clearer and more assertive?” “If getting angry is not working for me, what can I do differently?” These are questions that we will be addressing in subsequent chapters, with the goal, not of getting rid of our anger or doubting its validity, but of gaining greater clarity about its sources and then learning to take a new and different action on our own behalf.

There is, however, another side of the coin: If
feeling
angry signals a problem,
venting
anger does not solve it. V
enting anger may serve to maintain, and even rigidify, the old rules and patterns in a relationship, thus ensuring that change does not occur.
When emotional intensity is high, many of us engage in nonproductive efforts to change the other person, and in so doing, fail to exercise, our power to clarify and change our own selves. The old anger-in/anger-out theory, which states that letting it all hang out offers protection from the psychological hazards of keeping it all pent up, is simply not true. Feelings of depression, low self-esteem, self-betrayal, and even self-hatred are inevitable when we fight but continue to submit to unfair circumstances, when we complain but live in a way that betrays our hopes, values and potentials, or when we find ourselves fulfilling society’s stereotype of the bitchy, nagging, bitter, or destructive woman.

Those of us who are locked into ineffective expressions of anger suffer as deeply as those of us who dare not get angry at all.

These two styles of managing anger may appear to be as different as night and day. In reality, they both serve equally well to protect others, to blur our clarity of self, and to ensure that change does not occur. Let’s see how this works.

When we behave in this way, our primary energy is directed toward protecting another person and preserving the harmony of our relationships at the expense of defining a clear self. Over time we may lose our clarity of self, because we are putting so much effort into “reading” other people’s reactions and ensuring that we don’t rock the boat, we may become less and less of an expert about our own thoughts, feelings, and wants.

The more we are “nice” in these ways, the more we accumulate a storehouse of unconscious anger and rage. Anger is inevitable when our lives consist of giving in and going along; when we assume responsibility for other people’s feelings and reactions; when we relinquish our primary responsibility to proceed with our own growth and ensure the quality of our own lives; when we behave as if having a relationship is more important than having a self. Of course, we are forbidden from experiencing this anger directly, since “nice ladies,” by definition, are not “angry women.”

Thus begins a self-defeating and self-perpetuating cycle. The more we give in and go along, the more our anger builds. The more we intensify our repressive efforts, the more we unconsciously fear a volcanic eruption should we begin to let our anger out. So, the more desperately we repress . . . and so it goes. When we finally do “blow,” we may then confirm our worst fears that our anger is indeed “irrational” and “destructive.” And other people may write us off as neurotic, while the real issues go unaddressed, and the cycle begins again.

Although “nice ladies” are not very good at feeling angry, we may be great at feeling guilty. As with depression or feeling hurt, we may cultivate guilt in order to blot out the awareness of our own anger. Anger and guilt are just about incompatible. If we feel guilty about not
giving
enough or not
doing
enough for others, it is unlikely we will be angry about not getting enough. If we feel guilty that we are not properly fulfilling our prescribed feminine role, we will have neither the energy nor the insight to question the prescription itself—or who has done the prescribing. Nothing, but nothing, will block the awareness of anger so effectively as guilt and self-doubt. Our society cultivates guilt feelings in women such that many of us still feel guilty if we are anything less than an emotional service station to others.

Nor is it easy to gain the courage to stop feeling guilty and begin to use our anger to question and define what is right and appropriate for our own lives. Just at that point when we are serious about change, others may redouble their guilt-inducing tactics. We may be called “selfish,” “immature,” “egocentric,” “rebellious,” “unfeminine,” “neurotic,” “irresponsible,” “ungiving,” “cold,” or “castrating.” Such slurs on our character and femininity are perhaps more than many of us can bear. When we are taught that our worth and identity are to be found in loving and being loved, it is indeed devastating to have our attractiveness and womanliness questioned. How tempting it may be to shuffle apologetically back to our “proper place” in order to regain the approval of others.

Unlike the “bitches” among us, who are doomed to lose popularity contests—if not our jobs—“nice ladies” are rewarded by society. The personal costs, however, are very high and affect every aspect of our emotional and intellectual life. “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” becomes the unconscious rule for those of us who must deny the awareness and expression of our anger. The “evil” that we must avoid includes any number of thoughts, feelings, and actions that might bring us into open conflict, or even disagreement, with important others. To obey this rule, we must become sleepwalkers. We must not see clearly, think precisely, or remember freely. The amount of creative, intellectual, and sexual energy that is trapped by this need to repress anger and remain unaware of its sources is simply incalculable.

But this is only part of the story. The negative words and images that depict women who do speak out are more than just cruel sexist stereotypes; they also hint at a painful reality. Words like “nagging,” “complaining,” and “bitching” are words of helplessness and powerlessness, which do not imply even the possibility of change. They are words that reflect the “stuck” position that characterizes our lives when a great deal of emotion is flying around and nothing is really changing.

When we vent our anger ineffectively, we can easily get locked into a self-perpetuating, downward cycle of behavior. We
do
have something to be angry about, but our complaints are not clearly voiced and we may elicit other people’s disapproval instead of their sympathy. This only increases our sense of bitterness and injustice; yet, all the while, the actual issues go unidentified. On top of that, we may become a prime scapegoat for men who dread female anger and for women who wish to avoid their own.

Obviously it requires courage to know when we are angry and to let others hear about it. The problem occurs when we get stuck in a pattern of ineffective fighting, complaining, and blaming that only preserves the status quo. When this happens, we unwittingly protect others at our own expense. On the one hand, an angry woman is threatening. When we voice our anger ineffectively, however— without clarity, direction, and control—it may, in the end, be reassuring to others. We allow ourselves to be written off and we provide others with an excuse not to take us seriously and hear what we are saying. In fact, we even help others to stay calm. Have you ever watched another person get cooler, calmer, and more intellectual as you became more infuriated and “hysterical”? Here the nature of our fighting or angry accusations may actually allow the other person to get off the hook.

Those of us who fight ineffectively are usually caught up in unsuccessful efforts to change a person who does not want to change. When our attempts to change the other person’s beliefs, feelings, reactions, or behaviors do not work, we may then continue to do more of the same, reacting in predictable, patterned ways that only escalate the very problems we complain about. We may be so driven by emotionality that we do not reflect on our options for behaving differently or even believe that new options are possible. Thus, our fighting protects the old familiar patterns in our relationships as surely as does the silence of “nice ladies.”

We have all had firsthand experience with both of these self-defeating and self-perpetuating behavior patterns. Indeed, “nice ladies” and “bitches” are simply two sides of the same coin, despite their radically different appearance. After all is said and done—or
not
said and done—the outcome is the same: We are left feeling helpless and powerless. We do not feel in control of the quality and direction of our lives. Our sense of dignity and self-esteem suffers because we have not effectively clarified and addressed the real issues at hand. And nothing changes.

Most of us have received little help in learning to use our anger to clarify and strengthen ourselves and our relationships. Instead, our lessons have encouraged us to fear anger excessively, to deny it entirely, to displace it onto inappropriate targets, or to turn it against ourselves. We learn to deny that there is any cause for anger, to close our eyes to its true sources, or to vent anger ineffectively, in a manner that only maintains rather than challenges, the status quo. Let us begin to unlearn these things so that we can use our “anger energy” in the service of our own dignity and growth.

What Is the Focus of This Book?
Because the subject of anger touches on every aspect of our lives, I have made some choices. In order to avoid writing an unmanageably fat volume, I have decided to focus largely, although not exclusively, on the family. We know our greatest anger, as well as our deepest love, in our roles as daughters, sisters, lovers, wives, and mothers. Family relationships are the most influential in our lives, and the most difficult. It is here that closeness often leads to “stuckness,” and our efforts to change things only lead to more of the same. When we can learn to use our anger energy to get unstuck in our closest and stickiest relationships, we will begin to move with greater clarity, control, and calm in every relationship we are in, be it with a friend, a co-worker, or the corner grocer. Issues that go unaddressed with members of our first family only fuel our fires in other relationships.