Feeling Angry? Good! If You’re Grieving, It Just Might Help!

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Instead of viewing anger as an uncomfortable emotion that is best suppressed, two recent articles argue that it deserves to be recognized as a valuable part of  the grieving— and healing— process.

Anger is the second non-linear stage in the five stages of grief, according to the Kübler-Ross model, so feeling angry while grieving is only natural. However, Cynthia Vejar, Ph.D, in Psychology Today attests that the emotion is “often overlooked” because anger has a bad rep. We’re taught that the destructive nature of anger outweighs any benefits, so we might be inclined to suppress it, when Vejar says “anger isn’t the enemy; instead, it’s like a warning light on the dashboard of a car.” Anger is a signal we should pay attention to, and acknowledge for its real value. 

Author Sweta Vikram described in Modern Loss the fury she felt after the sudden deaths of her parents, though they died some years apart. “Anger,” she recalled her mother’s unexpected passing and not being able to get to her in time. “How could you not wait for me? Anger. How could you leave Papa? You were barely 65!” She let herself feel the range of emotions that comes with grief. She even came to find that rage could sit beside love. 

“It was confusing to see the tenderness of love sit right next to the sharpness of anger.”

Sadness and guilt tend to turn us inward, Vejar continued in Psychology Today, but anger moves outward and pushes us through feelings of injustice and betrayal, which Vikram struggled with, first with the medical system and the sudden loss of her parents, her family ripped away. Then, she battled with how the people around her responded to her loss — by withdrawing and even disappearing, which stirred up anger born from abandonment, confusion, and  betrayal. That same anger empowered Vikram to draw the boundaries she needed to, thereby taking responsibility for her healing, and allowed her to grow: she became “more attuned to the language of avoidance.” 

Vikram took care of herself. She decided how she wanted to move forward. Grief isn’t “neat and polite,” she said, not always, but anger can “provide a roadmap to self-awareness and indicate that something is wrong or that boundaries have been violated,” Vejar said. Akin to the metaphor she drew earlier of anger flashing like a signal in a car, anger isn’t negative at all; it helps us navigate through life. It might invite us to be kinder to ourselves, an unexpected twist on an emotion that many people don’t know what to do with. These women say—anger puts us in the seat of action; it can even be a teacher. 

Recently, SevenPonds covered a growing trend in end-of-life — windphones, a telephone grievers use to call loved ones who have died. Elaine Haughn, after losing her son suddenly, said that people walked on “eggshells around her” when she didn’t want to hold back. So she channeled her anger, though that’s not explicitly stated, to take action and install a wind phone in her town, so she could give herself what she needed when others around her communicated that they were uncomfortable with death, grief and loss. 

It goes without saying that anger has its dangers if one doesn’t have a healthy relationship with it, but when acknowledged without fear, anger can empower us when life feels the most disordered. Grief almost insists that we be honest with ourselves, not to minimize our love nor ignore our pain. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, angry, hurt—any of it. Anger supports us like a true friend, reminding us to “feel your feelings.” 

As Vejar puts it, “anger is not something to fear or withhold but a powerful emotion that can steer us through the complex process of grief.” And Vikram reminds us of the same lesson from her lived experience: grief, in all its rage and tenderness, can be the force that pushes us to protect ourselves, set boundaries, and move forward.