I was so angry.

As a child, I’d be put in time out and I would refuse to quiet down in order to be let back in. Hours would go by as I pounded on the door and screamed. I wanted my fury to be heard no matter what.

In college, comments by fellow students would leave me seething. I couldn’t speak for fear of shouting incomprehensibly, so I’d furiously write down my rebuttles and have my best friend read them out loud in my stead.

And this one is hard to admit. In relationships, I’d maintain a composed exterior until I was pushed to my limits and I’d unleash my rage. I’d be left feeling defeated and ashamed.

I’ve experienced numerous sexual violations of my body over a period of fifteen years, been threatened with lawsuits for speaking out, and have felt incredibly isolated, anxious, and depressed.

I tried everything.

Suppressing, ignoring, pretending. Therapy, tarot, psychic readings, Brainspotting, somatic release, singing. Nature, yoga, loved ones, cooking, reconnecting to my intuition. Not one thing was the thing. Little by little, I’d gain insight, I’d feel better, I’d fall back into a hole of pity and rage, and then I’d emerge again with new knowledge about myself.

And that’s the thing about you and your healing process. I won’t pretend to have the perfect protocols for you to follow so you never feel angry, depressed, or anxious again.