Most people who know me would probably describe me as a laid-back person. I value harmony. I’m calm and patient. I’m nurturing. And not to brag, but I’m an excellent peacekeeper. I consider myself to be a gentle person. As such, I thought all of these things meant that I didn’t have any issues with anger. I didn’t realize how wrong I was. Imagine my shock when I realized that I was, indeed, angry. For a time, I think I may have been one of the angriest people I knew.
I grew up believing anger was a bad emotion, while happiness was the only truly good one. I was so resistant to anger that I believed fun-loving and happy were the only acceptable modes of behavior. I once believed all the cliches we hear today about anger. You know the ones. Anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. I made it a point never to display anger. Where did I learn this? The place where all learning takes place for us, family — most notably my parents.