Anger Has a Place—And It Deserves a Voice
I’ve practiced some form of martial arts most of my life.
Not for competition. Not to be “tough.” But because I needed a way to connect with my strength—physically, emotionally, and energetically.
Movement has always been and important part of how I process and release. How I return to myself when I’m at my limit. Whether it’s kicking a heavy bag, breathing through a challenging yoga pose, or getting still enough to feel what’s really underneath the noise.
That combination, strength and stillness, challenge and clarity, has taught me this:
👉 Anger is not something to hide or be afraid of.
👉 It’s not weakness.
👉 It’s not failure.
👉 It’s meaningful.
It’s trying to tell you something. Give it a voice.
Why are women so afraid of anger?
Because we were never taught how to feel and express it safely, only how to silence it.
Psychologically, anger is a boundary protector. It shows up when something is crossed, dismissed, or threatened.
But socially?
Women are rewarded for being accommodating, agreeable, and likable. We’re taught that anger makes us irrational. Dangerous. Unattractive. Unstable. And when we do express it, it’s weaponized.
We’re labeled dramatic. Hysterical. Difficult. Or worse—we’re told we imagined it.
The other day I was speaking to a few women about the state of diversity and inclusion—how vital it is that we keep pushing for equity, and how many of us wouldn’t have the opportunities we have today without it.
I wasn’t yelling. I wasn’t out of control. I was passionate. Clear. Grounded.
And a woman across from me leaned back and said, “Woah. Calm down.”
I was surprised,but not really.
Because I’ve been told to “calm down,” “lighten up,” and “let it go” more times than I can count. Even by other women.
But I get it. Many women are scared of all anger, their own and mine.
And in that moment, I did pull back. But I didn’t shut down. Because that anger? It’s not about me. It’s about what we’re all being asked to carry quietly.
When we repress it, we pay the price and everyone else benefits.
We smile when we want to scream. Say “it’s fine” when it’s anything but. And pretend we’re unaffected so others stay comfortable.
But anger doesn’t disappear. It festers. It turns into resentment, burnout, self-doubt, and shame.
And I’m more than done pretending that’s okay.
I’ve been told to be quiet more times than I can count:
“Don’t rock the boat.”
“It’s not worth it.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“It was just a joke.”
No. It wasn’t.
It was racism. It was sexism. It was a boundary being crossed. It was a system of privilege trying to stay comfortable by asking me to stay small.
And while speaking up has taken something from me each time, it’s also why I keep showing up. Because every time I do, someone else shows up more fully for themselves next time.
Silence doesn’t protect us. It protects the status quo.
Anger doesn’t make you unprofessional.
It makes you human.
You can be grounded and furious. You can be calm and commanding. You can speak truth with your chest—and still hold compassion.
This idea that anger is shameful or unsafe? That’s patriarchy doing its job.
Real leadership isn’t about avoiding anger. It’s about knowing when to listen to it—and when to let it lead.
Action Step: Give Your Anger a Voice
This week, try this:
Name one thing you’ve been swallowing that actually pissed you off.
Ask: What was the message in that emotion? What boundary got crossed?
Speak it—even if it’s just to yourself, a journal, or someone safe. Let it move through your body.
You don’t have to blast anyone. But you do have to stop pretending it doesn’t matter.
Because it does. And so do you.
Inside Women Who Rise, this is what we unlearn: That power is quiet. That calm means compliant. That anger makes us “too much.”
I’m done with that narrative. If you are too:
📞 Book a call and let’s talk about how to lead with your full self—not just the parts that make people comfortable.
Let’s rise—with fire and focus.
With you,
Dr. Zoe