Sometimes you know something isn’t right — and instead of getting angry, you turn it against yourself.
Why we so often turn our anger against ourselves
Some people don’t get angry easily. They swallow it, rationalise, want to understand. “I don’t want to be like my father.” “No point getting worked up.” Or: “Maybe it’s my fault.”
Still, something keeps nagging. A tight chest, a lump in the throat, a tiredness that doesn’t match what actually happened.
What often happens is that an arrow that originally pointed outward — towards someone crossing your boundary — flips inward. A boomerang. The energy of anger isn’t lived, but internalised as guilt, shame, or self-criticism.
The flip
In sessions I see this a lot: someone describes a situation where they felt powerless. At first the tone is calm, almost rational. But when we pause with what’s happening in the body, something different emerges: a tremor, warmth, tears.
The moment anger becomes tangible, the reflex shows up: “I could have handled it differently.” That’s the boomerang moment. Instead of feeling strength, the energy returns as self-blame. Often it’s old: once, it was safer to turn it against yourself than to express it. Anger felt dangerous or led to rejection. So you learned: better guilty than unsafe.
The movement back to yourself
The liberating truth is that anger itself isn’t the problem — it’s a signal of integrity. When that energy can move again, the body changes tone: chest opens, breath deepens, eyes clear. Not explosive — present.
In Brainspotting or the mountain in you exercise, we don’t talk about anger; we make space for what the body holds. Often there’s a moment of recognition: “It wasn’t my fault.” The boomerang comes to rest. Compassion appears — not as a concept, but as a felt softness.
From self-criticism to self-compassion
When anger no longer needs to turn inward, gentleness follows naturally. Self-compassion doesn’t mean excusing everything; it means ending the movement of constant self-judgement. You get to be on your own side again.
That may be the deepest healing: not fighting what you feel, but welcoming it as part of your strength.
Read also
- When Feeling Solves More Than Talking
What happens when you stop understanding and start experiencing. - What Your Body Knows When Words Fall Short
The body’s wisdom and how tension can release without analysis.