9. How Can I Deal with Anger? How Can I Express Anger Without Suppressing or Exploding?
Short Answer
For me, anger is not a problem to eliminate but a powerful signal that something deeply important is being touched within me. Beneath anger, I discover values, needs, and longings that matter profoundly to me. In this sense, anger is energy trying to protect life.
The challenge is that anger can easily create profound hurt and disconnection when it is expressed through blame, criticism, or demands.
Yet suppressing anger also comes with a cost: tension, resentment, loss of vitality, and disconnection from ourselves.
Nonviolent Communication (NVC) has taught me to see anger as a doorway. A doorway to self-connection, vulnerability, healing, and a deeper understanding of what truly matters to me. The more I connect with the needs underneath my anger, the more likely I am to express myself in ways that foster understanding, honesty, and connection rather than distance and hurt.
More Personal Answer
Anger is often seen as a problem. Yet it can also become a problem when we suppress it.
I see the ability to navigate anger in a way that creates connection as a true art.
Many people are afraid of anger.
Others feel ashamed of it.
Some believe anger is wrong.
Others justify it completely.
And honestly, I deeply understand all these reactions.
Because anger is tricky.
If I express it carelessly, it can create enormous pain and distance in relationships.
And yet, if I suppress it, this too has painful consequences: disconnection from myself, accumulated tension, numbness, exhaustion, explosions later on, or loss of aliveness.
So what to do with anger?
For me, it is one of the fundamental questions of how to build relationships that deepen connection.
Anger Is Usually Not What It Seems
One of the most important things NVC taught me is: anger is usually not only about what happened externally.
When a person is angry, I already know that a very specific kind of thinking is at play: the belief that the other person has done something wrong.
For example:
- “You shouldn’t have done that.”
- “You are insensitive.”
- “You never listen.”
- “You should change.”
- “You don’t care about me”
In NVC, we call this: jackal thinking.
And honestly, when I am angry, this thinking can feel extremely convincing.
In the moment of anger, I am certain: I am right, it is obvious how the other person is wrong, and my thinking feels unquestionably true.
But one thing I repeatedly notice is: when I speak from this place, the other person often: defends themselves, withdraws, attacks back, freezes, or disconnects.
Ironically, anger often creates the opposite of what I actually long for.
I long to be heard, and I want my feedback to be received. I hope it will inspire the other person to change their behavior, both in the present and in the future. Yet in reality, this rarely happens.
For example:
if underneath my anger I long to: be heard,
my angry expression may make the other person less available to hear me.
This is part of the tragedy of anger.
Anger Is Beautiful
Every time I feel anger, something deeply important is being touched inside me.
Something alive. Something precious. Something at the very core of my values.
If you have ever seen a mother bear being approached while her cubs are nearby, you may have seen her rise onto her hind legs, roar, and prepare to use all her strength to protect them.
For me, anger is much the same. It is a powerful and beautiful energy that emerges to protect something vulnerable, precious, and deeply important within me: A Need.
Anger is energy trying to protect life.
I increasingly experience anger as:
- powerful,
- alive,
- sharp,
- expressive,
- Precious
- and honest.
This is why suppressing anger often does not work well either. Because if I suppress the anger, I may also suppress the very need the anger is trying to protect.
Suppressing Anger Has a Cost
Many people learned very early: “Good people are not angry.” Or: “Anger is dangerous.”
And so they learned to smile while suffering inside. To stay polite while disconnected from themselves. To be kind to others while hurting within.
To suppress.
But over time, suppression often creates painful consequences: accumulated explosions, withdrawal, depression, sickness, loss of vitality, or not even knowing anymore what I feel or need.
As Marshall Rosenberg coined it: “becoming a dead nice polite person.”
Our Relationship to Anger
One thing I increasingly notice is: every human being has a different relationship to anger.
This relationship is often shaped very early in life. How was anger expressed or received in my family and close surroundings? Was it explosive? Violent? Silent? Manipulative? Suppressed? Welcomed? Forbidden?
Some people freeze internally the moment someone raises their voice.
Others only feel alive when intensity arises.
Others disconnect completely from anger and cannot even feel it.
So there is no one way to navigate anger, as each of us carries this very vulnerable place in our hearts called “our personal relationship with anger.”
For example, if I want to express my anger to someone, I first want to understand their relationship with anger. If they tend to freeze or become overwhelmed and traumatized by it, I want to be very conscious and careful in how I express my anger, so that it works for both of us.
So What Can I Actually Do When Anger Comes?
As mentioned, there is no single “correct” answer. Different situations and different people call for different responses.
Option 1: Time-Out
Because anger can create hurt and damage rather than understanding and connection, I often want to slow down, as I know: if I open my mouth right now while I am angry, I may create the opposite of what I long for.
So I pause. Maybe: 3 breaths, 10 minutes, 1 hour, 1 day, or longer.
I increasingly experience: time heals.
Not magically. But because every extra moment often softens the trigger slightly and gives me more inner clarity about what is really going on within me and what is precious to me in the situation.
Then during the time-out, I reconnect with myself. Maybe: writing, walking, calling a friend, breathing, crying, or doing a self-connection process.
And gradually, I begin to move beneath the anger and toward my own vulnerability.
Going Underneath the Anger
One thing I repeatedly notice is that anger often sits close to the surface. When I look more deeply, I often discover more vulnerable feelings underneath: hurt, disappointment, fear, helplessness, sadness, loneliness, grief, or powerlessness.
And underneath those feelings, there are needs: love, to be seen, understanding, trust, care, support, inclusion, freedom, or tenderness.
Anger is a ‘thought (judgment) connected feeling’. When a person connects with the need behind their anger, they can no longer feel anger. Instead, their feelings often begin to move toward more vulnerable emotions. I call these ‘the transformed feelings’. Not because I force the anger to disappear, but because I reconnect with what is truly alive underneath it.
And when I connect with those feelings, that is the energy I want to bring back into the dialogue.
Option 2: Expressing Anger Directly
My favorite approach is to express anger directly, as raw as it appears within me. This can be both healing and a fast, direct route to the needs underneath.
However, this depends a lot on how my anger is received by the other person. I do this only with people I trust to know how to “enjoy” my anger—people who can keep their attention not on the judgments that come with my anger, but on the vulnerability I am holding underneath.
For example: “You never listen to me!”
This sentence is usually not objective reality. It is a tragic expression of: “I am in pain and lost with how to care for my need to be heard.”
Sometimes with trusted people, I even explicitly say:
“Can you put your double giraffe ears on for a moment?” Meaning: “Please don’t take my words literally. Stay with me until I reconnect with the vulnerability underneath.”
This can create a surprisingly deep kind of intimacy.
Option 3: Screaming in Giraffe
‘Screaming in Giraffe’ means allowing the energy of anger to move through my body—while transforming the consciousness and language underneath it.
It is using the energy of anger to help me stand for my needs—what I experience as vertical power: a strength that rises through my legs and into my spine. It is the strength of standing for “I”.
This is very different from ‘screaming in Jackal’, which I experience as horizontal power—where my attention is focused on changing the other person. Focused on “YOU”:
“What is wrong with YOU? Why do YOU never listen to me? Why are YOU so obsessed with YOURSELF all the time?!”
This is ultimately a powerless position, because I become dependent on the other person changing in order for my needs to be met.
Screaming in Giraffe means bringing the focus back to myself and standing for my values:
“I’m angry because I deeply value care. I long to care for you and to receive care. It is incredibly important to me to live and function in an atmosphere of care. I wonder whether that is important to you too?”
The intensity may still be strong. The voice may still be loud. But the direction changes.
From blame to vulnerability.
From power-over to authenticity.
From powerlessness to creativity and cooperation.
Receiving Anger
One of the hardest things in human relationships is: receiving someone else’s anger.
Because angry language often sounds like: “You are the problem.”
Naturally, my nervous system wants to: defend, explain, justify, or counterattack.
But one thing deeply changed me: angry words are usually not literal truth ! They are tragic attempts to express pain and unmet needs.
The tendency is that when a person expresses anger toward me, I want to correct them and explain why what they are saying is not true. Yet this often leads to tragic results—usually further escalation.
Marshall Rosenberg used to joke: “Never put your BUTT in front of an angry face.”
Meaning: don’t immediately respond with, “BUT…” (He added the extra T to emphasize just how unpleasant that can be…)
Because once “but” enters the conversation, people often stop feeling heard. “But” can easily be heard as: “What you have said so far is wrong. Now let me tell you the truth.”
A person who is angry is unlikely to enjoy that message. Rather, a person in anger is longing to be heard. And “but” is often the exact opposite of that.
Instead, I increasingly try to: stay present, not believe the judgments literally, and listen for the humanity underneath.
And often something magical happens.
After enough empathy, the blame begins to fade, and I no longer hear it.
Instead, I hear hurt, fear, longing, or often old trauma speaking through the person.
Anger as a Doorway
Today, I no longer experience anger mainly as: a problem to eliminate.
I increasingly experience it as: a doorway.
A doorway into: deeper needs, vulnerability, self-connection, truth, healing, and transformation.
Of course, anger can damage relationships. I’ve seen that many times.
But I’ve also seen something else: when anger is met with enough empathy, awareness, and self-connection, it can become a powerful movement back toward life.
Not because anger itself is “good,” but because underneath anger there is something profoundly beautiful. Anger is a request for help: “Please help me understand my needs, and stay with me while I explore how to meet them.”