Several weeks ago, as my husband and I were leaving a social event, he could sense I was upset, angry even. I walked to the car with firm footsteps, my heels clicking the pavement with force and a rapid cadence. My arms were folded across my chest. My lips pursed. We had a rather lengthy drive home, so I knew we’d have time to discuss this matter. He could sense I was fuming. He, too, was not happy, as part of the evening had not gone to plan. When I express anger, it often comes out with tears. So as my eyes welled up, I said, “That was disappointing.” He agreed and the conversation ensued about how others at the event had let us down. As is the frequent case with me, once I begin talking about something that upsets me, I rehash it again and again, searching for understanding and hoping that I will exhaust the topic into a smaller and less infuriating one. I often seek affirmation, or validation, that my viewpoint of being wronged or hurt is the correct interpretation of the situation. Of course, conversation is catharsis, but can also be an unhealthy outlet. I am aware that righteous indignation is a character flaw in myself.

We got home, didn’t really speak of the issue again that evening, and then went to bed. But the next morning, I was still stewing about it. I journaled and thought about it some more. I spoke to a trusted friend who validated my concerns. And I could feel myself getting angry again. I made the conscious decision to let it go so that I could focus on being present and not allow the events of the prior evening to sabotage the next week.

A few days later, my cooler head prevailed, and as I really thought about it all some more, I realized that what came out as anger was actually just the primitive and proximate emotion that covered up deeper and more complex emotions like sadness and fear. When I thought some more about the issue that was bothering me, what I really felt was sadness about unmet expectations; fear of losing my idealized vision of the future; hurt that I was misunderstood and underappreciated or valued.

Brene Brown, in her book Atlas of the Heart, describes anger as “a secondary or ‘indicator’ emotion that can mask or make us unaware of other feelings that are out of reach in terms of language, or that are much more difficult to talk about than anger.” In my words, anger is a shell. It shields us from showing the deeper and more vulnerable emotions that drive the anger: fear, anxiety, shame, embarrassment, betrayal, regret, and more. It’s easier and more socially acceptable to say “I’m pissed!” than to say “I feel sad because what I have worked so hard for is not working out the way I thought it would.”

While I think anger is probably our natural starting point to express emotion, the danger is when we get stuck on anger and don’t have the humility or insight to ask ourselves what’s underneath the anger. Friends, this has taken me a lifetime to come to terms with…and I am in the beginning stages of exploring this concept. But it’s doing me well, leading me right, to pause, express the anger in safe spaces (with my husband, closest friends, my therapist) and then do the work to explore it, seek ways to understand the root of it, and slowly find ways to grow and deal with those deeper emotions. Just showing the shell of anger is not a processing emotion, it’s a hurtful one. One could say that Jesus showed anger in the temple when he toppled the tables, but it wasn’t an action that was conducted just for the sake of anger; underneath the anger was the heartache of seeing his Father’s house debased into a shady marketplace instead of a house of prayer and worship.

Realizing this truth in myself has been helpful to me in the way I perceive others’ anger. I am reminded that just deep to that angry shell I see, there is probably something else harder for them to talk about; an emotion that maybe they can’t even name yet. It’s a reminder to me to avoid taking the wrath of someone else towards me too personally; that yes, I must reflect on how I contributed to the problem, but also accept that some of the anger belongs to the other person to deal with their own emotions. Anger is our shell, but there is a world of emotion that lives inside of it.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.