“Each girl has a reservoir of rage. It may well both destroy her or remake her.” – Audre Lorde
Someplace between the ages of twenty-two and 25, I discovered myself drowning on dry land, caught between an “good woman” id and a eager for one thing that felt extra true, extra congruent, extra genuine. I had my first panic assault in entrance of my mother and father whereas we ate grass-fed beef burgers and the ketchup stung my throat as a cry tried to return about. Confusion painted their faces, and in surprise they requested, “Why the panic? You’re wonderful, you’re secure, you have got what you want.”
Which was true… in a bodily sense.
But, the strain between what my inside being knew to be true and what I thought I wanted to be because of the field that I discovered myself chained to grew to become all too loud and problematic.
Was it rage? Was it anger? Was it a chronic grief of what may very well be that roared like a wild fireplace in me?
And I rapidly realized that I solely have to get out of my personal method, regardless of any system or construction that lead me to imagine I had no selection however to remain…
Rage and Longing
“Rage” is a poetic approach to describe the journey of grieving the id that was positioned on us and re-centering ourselves again to who we actually are.
Die My Love, the newest Jennifer Lawrence movie, brilliantly toes the road of a girl in metaphorical captivity eager for the wild. It’s absolutely poetic, complicated, and wealthy. Poetic in narrative, complicated in construction, but wealthy in themes or rage and longing.
That is story of a girl on the sting of a nervous breakdown, in search of self-destruction simply to really feel alive within the wake of birthing one other human that has appeared to strip her of each different id in addition to “mommy.”
The self-destructive rage she possesses is rarely in direction of her child, however relatively, in direction of the world that has put her right into a shell of a house—or only a marriage with a checked out companion—the place play is now not within the equation of her marriage, work, or self. As viewers members, we’re not sure of what’s true and what’s not true as our character inches nearer and nearer to the sting—or maybe freedom.
I couldn’t assist however surprise if moving into the “rage” could be defeat or not. It appears extra like an effort to discover a new, reworked model of ourselves the place titles and misplaced identities are stripped away, permitting us to really feel alive and related to ourselves as soon as extra. And this “rage” is a poetic approach to describe the journey of grieving the id that was positioned on us by way of folks, beliefs, or communities and re-centering ourselves again to who we actually are.
It’s a longing that’s all too acquainted on the earth of womanhood. A longing that may be simply shushed or shoved away earlier than we notice we’ve no possible way of returning to the woman we actually know.
Made for Extra, and Extra, and Extra
You need to perceive the story that had curated my life to be what I knew then. It was a narrative through which a system enforced concepts onto younger ladies to turn into “sure ladies” who would nod, bear, and settle for—and deny braveness, guts, and boldness. It was nearly seemed down upon to be a girl who took up area, thoughts, physique, and soul.
(Reader—and Mother—please observe that fortunately, my mother and father by no means as soon as inflicted this sort of ideology upon me.)
Extra particularly, ladies have been pushed to the facet within the religion communities I discovered myself in—from faculty to work—and when a girl spoke with boldness or assertiveness, she was rapidly deemed “loopy.” It was not thought-about turning into for a girl to ask for what she wanted, whether or not in a romantic relationship or inside non secular techniques.
I recall a New Testomony professor at my southern Baptist college very bluntly telling me, “Don’t suppose; you’re not superb at it.” I froze as many of the class tried to cover their lives whereas I attempted to carry again my tears as I counted every tile within the ceiling. I recall feeling deeply small in a dozen romantic relationships each time my wants have been voiced or requested, the place I used to be as a substitute ignored and categorized as merely “extremely delicate.” And I simply took all of it for for much longer than I ought to have.
And no, I don’t look again on these moments as a sufferer, for thus many—women and men alike—have been harmed by patriarchal ideology that has seeped into non secular and religion areas and souls. As a substitute, I look again on these moments as the start of an finish—and the start of getting into into the “extra” that awaited me.
It was after I had lastly shed outdated pores and skin, outdated thought patterns, and outdated perceptions on what it meant to stay, transfer, and be as a girl that one thing new got here forth by way of the rugged soil.
The craze is what introduced me to newness, to wholeness, and again to the woman I had someway misplaced alongside the way in which. It was caused with the assistance of mates, re-connecting with the hobbies that made me come to life, and studying to be OK with taking on area by way of voicing my opinions, wants, or longings.
Most significantly, I got here to grasp that the poisonous pondering of patriarchy and what a girl’s function ought to seem like was going to take me down a dead-end road. A road that will perhaps not really feel lonely, however suffocating…
Fearfully & Splendidly Made
I feel I’ve come to a spot of calmness inside me, that which is discovered on the opposite facet of rage. A spot of being curious to study extra about me and the issues that delight me—and the issues that scare me, too. I’ve heard it stated that we’re all fearfully and splendidly made. But it surely’s our job to unlock that a part of us with boldness and audacious selections and selections.
The “rage” is what introduced me to those newfound locations, and introduced me again to the model of me I used to be at all times made to be.
My apologies for forgetting her for fairly a while…
This assessment was initially printed on Simply Cultured on November 14, 2025. Republished right here with the writer’s permission.
