Anger is Not an Enemy
On the hidden wisdom of anger, the blind spots of gratitude, and the freedom in balance.
For years, I lived in emotional extremes—joy that lifted me high, sadness that swallowed me whole, anger that burned, love that consumed. I thought balance meant controlling or silencing what felt “too much.”
I feel my emotions intensely.
Intense joy.
Intense sadness.
Intense rage.
Intense love.
One emotion hijacking the perspective leads to a lot of unbalance. I’ve lived that. Done that. Am over that.
I’ve since learned how to hold all my emotions, but I still struggle to feel their intensity in my body. Because, whoa – it’s a lot!
Lately, I’ve noticed myself oscillating between two states that I felt were worth exploring—because I think it’s a common experience: gratitude that soothes me, and anger that pulses through my body like electricity.
For a long time, gratitude was my shield. My survival tool. I leaned on it without realizing, because it helped me endure what was painful or confusing. It calmed me, softened me, and kept me moving. But gratitude can also be blinding. It whispers: Endure. Forgive. Adapt. And sometimes I endured too much. Forgave too easily. Adapted too often.
My body carried the weight, the tight chest, the shallow breath, the coil of tension in my stomach that never fully released.
Anger, on the other hand, was alive and raw. But I learned early that expressing it wasn’t okay. People didn’t like it. So I thought it was a defect in me. Something to control. Something to fix. I stuffed it down, clenched my fists, held my breath, and let my heart pound in silence. And of course, anger didn’t disappear. It leaked out sideways— through numbness, apathy, rebellion—because it needed to move, but I didn’t yet know how to honor it.
Psychologically, this makes sense. Suppressed anger doesn’t dissolve; it festers. The body registers threat and holds it as tension, while the mind searches for ways to release pressure. Gratitude can temporarily soothe the system—it shifts attention, reduces stress hormones, and provides perspective. But if gratitude is used to bypass anger, the underlying unmet needs never get addressed. That’s why gratitude works…until it doesn’t. Eventually, the body forces the truth forward, often through symptoms, burnout, or emotional outbursts.
For years, I suppressed anger without realizing how much that suppression was costing me. I wasn’t getting my needs met. I wasn’t advocating for myself. I wasn’t fully alive. And so I kept doubling down on gratitude, hoping it would carry me. And it did— until it didn’t.
Lately, I’ve been working on this—really paying attention to anger, listening to it, allowing it to take up space. And I’m realizing just how vital and helpful it is. Anger isn’t mean. By default, it doesn’t hurt anyone. It doesn’t have to explode or destroy. When expressed consciously, anger becomes clarity and truth. It becomes a guide. It teaches us where our boundaries are, what we need, and how to act from truth rather than fear. It helps us show up fully for ourselves and for the people we love.
Gratitude, too, is essential. It allows us to notice beauty, stay connected to what sustains us, and appreciate what we have. But when gratitude dominates— when it becomes a survival strategy— it can blind us to harm. It can silence anger, prevent healthy boundaries, and keep us tolerating situations we shouldn’t.
The healthiest, most resilient emotional life doesn’t come from choosing one emotion over another. It comes from honoring them all, in balance. Gratitude softens, nurtures, and connects. Anger protects, clarifies, and liberates. Together, they allow us to live fully, feel deeply, and act intentionally.
I’ve learned that this balance isn’t passive. It requires awareness. A noticing of the body and its signals. A willingness to ask: What is being protected? What is being silenced? What is asking to be felt? It requires letting emotions rise consciously, without judgment, without masks.
And here’s the paradox: I’ve found myself even grateful for my anger. Because when anger and gratitude are honored together, they create freedom. Anger clarifies, protects, and propels. Gratitude softens, nurtures, and sustains. Together, they let us live the whole story — joy and pain, love and boundaries, action and reflection.
I’m still working on this (of course), still learning, still practicing. Some days anger rises easily; some days gratitude pulls me soft. But every day I notice both, and every day I feel the difference it makes — how I advocate for myself, how I connect with others, how I show up in the world.
Our emotions are not enemies. They are guides. And when we learn to feel them fully — embodied, alive, and conscious — we find not only balance, but truth, strength, and freedom.
-B
Anger. Gratitude.
Two forces inside us.
Gratitude: soft, sweet, a balm.
Anger: sharp, hot, alive.
We’re taught gratitude is safe, moral, good.
We’re taught anger is dangerous, wrong, sinful.
But anger rises —
when we’re denied, dismissed, unheard.
It says: This is not okay.
It wakes us. Protects us. Moves us.
Anger does not have to be mean.
It doesn’t have to explode or destroy.
Conscious anger is clarity.
Boundaries. Honesty. Liberation.
It is power without cruelty.
It is love — for yourself.
Gratitude, too, has its shadow.
When forced, it blinds us.
It whispers: Forgive. Endure. Adapt.
And in surviving, we forget ourselves.
Here’s the truth:
Gratitude softens. Anger protects.
Gratitude opens the heart. Anger secures the borders.
Gratitude shows what we love. Anger shows what we will not endure.
Together, they balance.
Too much gratitude, and we tolerate harm.
Too much anger, and we burn without sight.
But held together —
they free us.
Anger is not the enemy.
Gratitude is not the jailer.
Both— honored, embodied — are the way to wholeness.


