There is anger in me that has never been allowed to stand in its full size

Dear Delyara, It has always had to become something else first. Politeness. Tiredness. Silence. Over-functioning. Sharpness at the wrong moment. A headache. A need to leave the room. A fantasy of disappearing for a week. A kindness so careful it is almost cruel to myself. I think some women become experts in converting anger into acceptable emotional currencies because direct anger was never truly welcomed in the rooms that shaped us. And over time, what could have been clean becomes complicated. I am angry about many things. Work. Money. Marriage. My own silence. The way women are expected to endure beautifully. The years I spent shrinking. The years I lost. That anger still deserves language. Even if I am only learning that late.