Why is anger different from other trusted emotions? Why do we fear it? Where does it live in our bodies—and where does it go?

Clients often ask me, “How do I let go of anger?” or “What do I do with all this anger?” Many feel uneasy when the topic comes up, and the most common reason I hear for avoiding it is fear—fear of what may be uncovered, fear of losing control, or fear of facing pain head-on. But anger, when approached as a tool rather than a threat, can be a powerful step toward healing.

When a client is struggling with anger, I often curate a unique roadmap to healing because everyone’s relationship with anger is different. Do we focus on somatic work, cognitive reframing, or something else? My clients—ranging from young adults to couples to professional athletes—each bring specific forms of emotional and physical pain. The path to peace varies based on context and need, and I take pride in helping clients find their footing.

Fear of anger is valid and understandable. Many clients have never had a safe space to explore their emotions and have never witnessed healthy displays of anger. The desire to “let go” of anger makes sense—but anger doesn’t just disappear. It must be felt, processed, and understood. We can’t regulate an emotion we won’t allow ourselves to feel.

Often, clients who fear anger grew up surrounded by volatility—frequent arguments, chaos, unpredictable outbursts—or were taught to suppress anger entirely, viewing emotional expression as weakness. Both experiences lead to complicated relationships with anger, rooted in repression, dissociation, or guilt. If anger isn’t modeled constructively in childhood, fear and avoidance become the default.

Growing up, any sign of emotion—anger or otherwise—I expressed was met with a brick wall. I was dismissed or sent away to deal with it alone. Without support or space to navigate my feelings, I began to fear them. To avoid the overwhelming sensations of anger, frustration, and sadness, I developed coping mechanisms—dissociation and a vivid fantasy world became my escape.

Though these tools offered temporary relief, they created complications later in life. Many people, myself included, were never shown how to co-regulate emotions. The importance of acknowledging and validating children’s feelings is often lost on parents who, themselves, were never validated. Thus, generational trauma persists.

When anger is villainized in childhood, processing it as an adult feels scary. But identifying this pattern is a powerful step toward breaking generational trauma. Most people can’t access this awareness on their own. The work is challenging, but it is necessary—and deeply rewarding. Helping clients unlearn counterproductive patterns and form new relationships with their emotions is some of the most meaningful work I do.

One modality that has been instrumental for both me and my clients is NARM (NeuroAffective Relational Model), developed by Dr. Lawrence Heller. In his book  Healing Developmental Trauma, Dr. Heller describes how NARM brings self-regulation into focus, emphasizing five core needs:

• Connection
• Attunement
• Trust
• Autonomy
• Love/Sexuality

NARM helps clients recognize their relationship with these needs, moving beyond unhealthy coping mechanisms like dissociation or repression. Together, we explore what peace looks like, and get curious about how clients relate to their needs. This allows us to approach emotions, anger, and trauma with curiosity rather than fear, reframing their roles in life and identity.

Anger is inevitable. Generational trauma takes many forms. Only when we allow ourselves space to explore emotions without fear can we truly heal. That process looks different for everyone and takes time, patience, co-regulation—and sometimes pain. But it’s possible to let go of what drives anger, even if not anger itself. Emotion is not the enemy.