A Soft Reclamation of Internalized Anger
I believe that anger is not the enemy.
It’s the subconscious.
The nervous system.
The soul’s smoke signal.
Letting you know that something has happened —
and you haven’t addressed it yet.
Something hurt.
And somewhere in the folds of your being,
you didn’t feel safe to feel it.
So instead, it got stored.
It lives in the body like a storm that never gets to break.
It shows up as tension, pain, sleeplessness.
It curdles into anxiety.
It sinks into depression.
It masks itself as numbness, or busyness, or control.
And sometimes — it becomes silence so loud it hurts.
This is internalised anger.
Anger turned inward.
Fire denied oxygen.
It does not explode — it erodes.
It erodes self-worth.
It whispers blame.
It builds shame.
It punishes you for what others did.
And yet…
beneath the rage is not destruction.
It is sadness.
Unmet. Unheld. Unheard.
A younger version of you,
waiting at the threshold of memory,
clutching their truth like a broken toy,
saying:
“See? Look what happened to me.”
“Please… tell me I matter.”
This version of you doesn’t need fixing.
They need witnessing.
Not the kind that demands forgiveness.
But the kind that sits with the wound
and does not flinch.
Because internalised anger is serious.
It is no small thing.
It shapes how we see ourselves.
It shapes how we love.
It shapes how we cope, or disconnect, or disappear.
“Beneath the rage is a sadness still waiting to be loved.”
But it also tells us:
Where there is fire, there is still life.
And life can be reclaimed.
Not by forcing peace.
Not by swallowing rage.
Not by “thinking positive.”
But by letting it speak.
Letting it burn, sometimes —
and then letting it be held.
By you.
For you.
So today —
Ask the part of you that’s angry:
What happened that you couldn’t name?
What sadness are you still carrying?
What would happen if I believed you?
What would happen if I loved you anyway?
You deserve to be heard.
Even now.
Especially now.
Reflection Prompt
When I think about the last time I felt angry —
What part of me was trying to protect me?
What unspoken grief was underneath?
And what kind of softness does that part need now?
Further Listening, Reading & Healing
A. J. Ashé
(Ashé | Being Human)
A Note from Ashé
If something in this piece echoed within you, I would be honoured to hear it — in the comments, or quietly, via email, in your own time.Copyright & Sharing Info
All words © A.J. Ashé | Being Human.
You may quote or share this piece with credit and a visible link back to the original page.
This work is protected under a Creative Commons NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 License, unless otherwise stated.
In softness and integrity — Ashé
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Excellent post 💯🧡❤️💝
Good afternoon ☀️ 🌎 🇪🇦
Good bless you 🏵️
Thank you so very much for your beautiful response to this post. This means so much and is warmly and greatly appreciated 🙏🫶🙏❤️
I think anger can either be a force for destruction, or a force for needed change and improvement. It all depends what we do with it.
You’re so right. When I look at my own, I see it as a guide for unmet sadness waiting to be owned or, when new, what boundaries have I myself abandoned 🙏🫶🙏✨️
You’re so right. When I look at my own, I see it as a guide for unmet sadness waiting to be owned or, when new, what boundaries have I myself abandoned 🙏🫶🙏✨️