Breaking Free from the Shackles of Anger

I’ve always known I have anger issues. It’s easy for me to lose control of my emotions and snap. Interestingly, my brain becomes exceptionally powerful during these heated moments, logically and tactfully bringing up past memories to fuel the already burning fire. My tongue, too, transforms into its sharpest, harshest and most eloquent version—calm but cutting. I still remember my brother once saying, ‘Sometimes you say things when you’re angry that pierce right through the heart.’

The thing is, I never lie when I am angry. Instead, I dig deep to find a person’s biggest weakness and weaponise it. In a sense, my angry version is a sophisticated and intelligent person—though in a very destructive way. A version that hurts many on the way, mostly the ones most dear and loved. After having kids, looking at their confused innocent faces after my sudden outbursts, I realised how far I have fallen from fitra and diverted the person I want to. be.

There are many things I’m unsure about in life, but one thing I know for sure – I want to control my actions when I’m angry. I know I can’t get rid of anger completely, but I can learn to coexist with it peacefully. So recently, while I was sitting in one of my son’s swimming lesson and looking at his smiling face, I made the decision that I am going to try to make changes and take active actions to be a kinder mum and a gentler wife.

The Why

My approach to figuring out anything in life is quite standard. I start with ‘why’ before diving into the ‘how.’ I wanted to understand what triggered my anger, what made me react rather than respond. I discovered many factors, including childhood trauma, unmet needs, and social pressure, that contributed; however, the four major ones are:

Unrealistic expectations

I’ve always been the kind of person who goes all in, fully immersing myself in whatever role I’m playing. For a long time, I held onto the mindsets that “doing is living” and “succeeding is the purpose of life.” I wanted to work as if I weren’t a mother, dedicating myself fully to my job. At the same time, I expected myself to parent as if I had no other responsibilities, giving my children everything I could without compromise. And when it came to my responsibilities at home, I wanted to perform as though I had neither my work nor my children.

I failed to realise how unsustainable these mindsets were. I was physically and mentally exhausted, constantly running on empty and depleted of the energy required for self-control and self-empowerment. I wasn’t at all intentional about how to take care of my body, mind, and soul.

I am my work

This has been a huge challenge for me. For most of my life, I saw my self-worth coming from my work, achievements, and my status in comparison to others. It’s been a long journey with many triumphs, meltdowns, and heartbreaks. This mentality had pushed me to the edge. It made it really hard for me to wind down, to zone out, and to separate myself from my work. It was not easy for me to log off at the end of the day and instantly be fully present with my family. The unfinished report, the upcoming meetings, they kept knocking around in my mind, and I snapped easily when I didn’t get the chance to process them.

My kids would think mama had finished work, so now they could play with her. But they failed to realise that, even though mama had physically left work, mentally, she was still stuck there. As a result, they often fell victim to ‘mum rage’ for demanding something they had every right to ask for. As for me, every night, I crawled to my bed feeling like a complete failure as a mother, drenched in guilt and shame.

The broken promises

For most of my life, I believed I was entitled to a good life- a solid education, a great job, considerate and kind colleagues, fun holidays, and moments of “me time.” But it never occurred to me to question—who said I was entitled to any of these? Who made that promise?

As it turns out, it was a promise I made to myself. My logical brain created the narrative:

• If I work hard, I am entitled to recognition at work.
• If I earn more, I am entitled to buy more discretionary clutter.
• If I take care of my family, I am entitled to their care in return, including the arrangement of solitude time for myself.

Every time one of these self-made promises was broken, my anger flared. I found myself overwhelmed by the feeling of being a victim and the thought that life wasn’t fair.

Take relationships for granted

It’s human nature to overlook the blessings that are easily accessible. Just as I failed to appreciate the essentials that keep me alive, I also failed to value the people who nurture my soul and bring me daily joy. How important can someone be if they split the bills with me and wash my dirty dishes? How precious can these tiny humans be—they can’t even speak properly yet! So I took them for granted and put in minimal, if any, effort when I was with them. I treated them as if they were simply an outlet for my unprocessed feelings. In doing so, I became a suppressor outside of home and an oppressor at home.

The how

Be intentional with self-care

How often have I spent minutes, if not hours, scrolling through social media or watching random YouTube videos, only to complain that I don’t have time to relax and re-energise? Upon reflecting on my days, I realised that I did manage to find time for myself. What I didn’t manage was figuring out how to use that time to actually fill my cup. Clearly, directionless screen time wasn’t helping.

I’ve come up with a list of activities, including some that I know I enjoy doing and others that I know will make me feel good afterward, if not in the moment. Putting on exercise clothes and sweating through a workout doesn’t sound as enjoyable as sinking into the couch to watch a “how to be productive mom” video. But the post-workout feeling is far more rewarding—it gives me the sense that I’ve done something for myself.

Whenever I have some free time now, I try to fit in something from the list. Having this list has helped me be intentional with my time and saved me from decision fatigue.

Setting priorities

I am working hard to instil the idea that I am much more than my work. I am a human being, not a “doing” being, and I intend to live a wholehearted life. It’s not easy to shed a mindset I’ve held for many years. I had to go deep to figure out what, regardless of society’s expectations and my nafs, I truly wanted to prioritise. had to reach a conclusion based on my understanding of my spiritual and family responsibilities, as well as what I thought my role should be, taking into account the season of my life.

I was very open and honest about it, and communicated my priorities to the people who needed to know. It meant making some sacrifices and leaving some possibilities unexplored for the moment, but it also meant not blaming or shaming others for why I am doing what I’m doing.

Accepting who I am

I am an extreme introvert- solitude and quiet time energise me. I need time to process my emotions, whether they are good or bad. While I truly enjoy being around my kids, my husband, and engaging in adult conversations, chit-chat without direction, simply to fill the silence exhausts me profusely.

It was hard to accept that choosing a life minimal with social commitments meant I would lose some friends, struggle to maintain the ones I have, and find it difficult to make new ones. But it also meant more time for myself and my family, more energy to process my thoughts and emotions, and fewer regrets after saying something I’d later ruminate over.

Being the person I am, I chose solitude. At times, when I see others attending social gatherings or having coffee catch-ups with friends, FOMO kicks in, and I wonder if I’m missing out. I also sometimes question whether our kids are missing out. But it brings me peace to see and feel the difference it makes in the intentionality behind my communication with others, the mindfulness of the words that come out of my mouth, and the calmness in my heart.

Finding solace in spirituality

I am a mere human and I stumble again and again. What lifts me up and helps me refocus is my connection to spirituality. On dark days, when anger and frustration are entirely valid emotions, my bond with my religion allows me to see the bigger picture and offers me a different perspective. There is immense solace in knowing that patience earns reward and showing mercy brings blessings.

Sometimes, when I feel the urge to react impulsively, I pause, start sending Salawat and remind myself of a beautiful hadith:

Narrated Abu Huraira, Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said, “The strong is not the one who overcomes others by his strength, but the strong is the one who controls himself when in anger.” – Sahih al-Bukhari 6114

When I succeed in resisting the pull of overwhelming emotions, regulating my thoughts, and controlling my actions, I feel like I have won a fierce battle against my nafs-my ego. If I fail, I take comfort in knowing that I can rise again through accountability, repentance, and seeking guidance and help from the Divine. As a believer, I find peace regardless, in the assurance that there is good for me in every matter, as long as I strive to uphold the principles.

A promise I made to myself :

I am a work in progress. I still snap, my heart still gallops fast when things don’t go according to plan, I still sometimes end up saying things in the heat of the moment that I know I shouldn’t. Every instance of an angry outburst leaves debris of shame, guilt, and many tears. There is no winner in the end. In fact, I am the one who ends up the most wounded.

As a mum, it’s impossible to promise that I will never get angry. But what I can promise is that I will try my best to ensure my anger is not ego-centric, but love-centric. I will let my anger stem only from my deep love for my dear ones, as I want the best for them. I will do my best to respond with patience, remembering that kindness, not frustration, should be the driving force behind my actions, and that love, not hatred, is the most effective medicine.