The discussion was energizing if not fruitful: anger as obstacle to love, love versus indifference, and that all popular prescription, “how to move on after divorce.”
I will it say straight out. I loathe that expression, moving on. I find it has little bearing on reality in most circumstances, yet we feature its advantages with near cultish insistence. And here’s the formula: 1 Part Forgiveness + 2 Parts Moving On = The Ultimate Path to Future Happiness.
What does that actually mean, and says who?
Oh right. Those who proclaim: “Let go of your anger and forgive, if you want to find peace.”
But what if anger coexists with love? Doesn’t it?
What if anger is motivating? Isn’t it?
What if the past bleeds into the present, and not through your doing? Then, isn’t “moving on” an illusion – not to mention an impossibility?
Understanding Anger Instead of Condemning It
Don’t we want to teach our boy-children to manage their anger in constructive ways, but nonetheless, to feel it? Don’t we want to teach our girl-children to express it more openly and yes, constructively, rather than turning anger in on themselves?
I do not view anger and love as opposite ends of an emotional spectrum. I do not view them as mutually exclusive. Indifference seems more chilly and damning a state of affairs than anger. Besides, don’t we get angry at our children? Does that mean we stop loving them? Don’t we get angry at our spouses? Does that mean we no longer cherish them?
Anger may be the mask that covers fear, and likewise, frustration. Anger may result from triggering old wounds. Anger can do its duty as learned behavior to deflect attention away from what hurts, what threatens, what stagnates.
Anger is a smokescreen. Anger is self-protective. Anger fuels action.
Anger also poses obstacles to examining underlying issues – those to be discussed and hopefully resolved. But it does not preclude loving unless the anger is all there is.
How Long to Get Over Anger After Divorce?
Situational anger in relationships? In divorce? In life after divorce?
What relationship doesn’t flare into a messy scene now and then? Our lives are frantic, frenetic, harried – complicated by too much work (or too little), too many expectations (from competing responsibilities), too little money and time, and pressures we put on ourselves to deliver something as close to “perfect” as we can envision.
The “perfect” fantasy dwells largely in the Land of Women.
In our lives after divorce, we may strive to prove we’re good enough to be loved, capable of giving our children a new “intact” family, mature enough to smooth over problems, and resilient enough to present a happy face. We may decide that we should be “over it” in a year, or two years, three – max.
Our relationships gurus tell us so. And we tell ourselves the same thing – that we should put the pain of divorce (and the anger) behind us. Seal it up, lock it away, toss the key.
Better yet – “forgive and move on.”
Cowering in the Face of Conflict
As we move from breakups into new relationships, wouldn’t it be impossible for us to deal with the soul-sucking dramas of online dating, the roller-coaster of blending families, the ache and headache of long-distance relationships, and simply the fatigue of all of it – without the occasional flare-up?
Conflict is more miserable for some of us than others, especially if we feel dwarfed in its presence, or certain that noisy conflict means the end of love.
Does a fight mean there’s no love? Does intermittent friction negate tender words, acts of generosity, genuine connection?
The high decibel version of anger convinces me the world is caving in. I know it isn’t; I know releasing the anger may even prevent the world from crumbling. But the feeling remains, a legacy of my childhood, and I begin to protect myself by preparing for the end, by distancing myself from love, by putting up walls – until I stop.
I’ve learned to stop more quickly than I once did by finding the quiet in myself. By recognizing that anger – however it is expressed, short of abusive language or violence – does not preclude love, passion, respect.
Anger flares out of hurt, out of frustration, out of fear, out of physical discomfort.
Anger in the context of divorce is a different story. Or it can be.
It may have built over decades. It may be expressed in spiteful and manipulative ways. It may not last.
Or it may go on for years.
Let Go, Get Over It, Move On
I was talking to an old friend recently. One parent had passed away from illness, and the other committed suicide a few years later. He was angry at her. Very angry. And sick of those who said to let it go, to get over it, to move on.
He had found her, and the scene was dreadful. There is no “let go, get over it, move on.”
There was a man I loved once. He, too, had found a parent who took his own life, with a shotgun. It seems only natural to me that the son carried the sorrow of that act – and the anger – as part of him.
These are extreme examples, but there are other relationship situations in which forgiveness is not possible, though some measure of understanding and perspective may eventually be acquired. High conflict divorce falls into this category, along with the messy aftermath that may exacerbate the situation.
But we’re told to let go, get over it, and move on. And the consequence of that is feeling dismissed, misunderstood, and marginalized.
“Live With” Instead of “Get Over”
Contemporary culture loves the quick fix, the easy answer, the superficial mantra as our Path to Emotional Healing. This flies in the face of reality, when we’re reeling from broken dreams, broken beliefs, and a half squeezed tube of crazy clue to put it all back together.
Some of us do, with enough time, enough help, and a dose of luck. Some of us do to a degree, and feel grateful we’ve managed even that. Some of us don’t, but I will not judge their capacity to deal with whatever has happened to them, which I cannot measure.
We should exchange “get over” and “move on” with “live with” and “learn from.”
As for those lessons we hope to acquire, they aren’t necessarily all positive. They may involve greater wariness and other self-protective behaviors that nonetheless are not a barrier to loving, to trusting, or to knowing a decent life. Instead, these altered behaviors become a necessary part of leading that life. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
You May Also Enjoy
Arthur Rubinstein said after WWII, he would never again perform in Germany and he never did. Some wounds are too deep for closure, and I think I can respect even though (as a post WWII German) it stung just a little bit at first.
I do enjoy your Daily Plates very much.
There is an art to putting anger where it belongs while you decide to keep what it teaches or not. Also, I couldn’t agree more with the widely misapplied and overused terms of “getting over” and “moving on”. I’m not real wild about “processing” as a substitute for “thinking through” either. As always, interesting thoughts from you on life experiences and what to do about them after you’ve wandered into them.
I think the sum total of our experiences is what makes us who we are. Some of those experiences will be good, some positive. We won’t forget the worst of them, but working through them enough that we can function and live positive lives despite the trauma is something to strive for. We might not manage that if a situation has been especially traumatic, but the more that we can live in the present and leave past hurts behind the better. A completely smooth life doesn’t create a well rounded person – a pearl takes some grit to form.
Wow, BLW…there is so much to comment on…I’ll follow your lead and pick a few items here and there…
As you note, I definitely agree that anger stems from some form of fear. If we can hone in on what that fear might be–fear of losing control possibly, or fear of shame, embarrassment, failure, etc–then we can begin to understand our anger and put it to good work for us.
“Anger also poses obstacles to examining underlying issues – those to be discussed and hopefully resolved. But it does not preclude loving unless the anger is all there is.” See above about using our anger to benefit ourselves… And then there’s the all-consuming anger…
Since my husband’s 2nd affair, seven years ago, I’ve written several pieces on anger (I’ll spare you the many links). This time around, mine has been epic. But in trying to understand it, so I can “move on,” which is often slang for “Heal,” I’ve recently come to realize several other things about anger: It is resentment’s parent. And secondly, that my frustrations over doing things twice (also a left out link) is ultimately a fear of failure, of failing to be able to do all the things I want to do in this life.
Which brings me to “We may decide that we should be “over it” in a year, or two years, three – max.” A recent comment I saw said that it takes 5-8 years to overcome significant loss. Again, I’ll spare you the links, but two of my favorite pieces are on this very subject.
One is “Heal it Your Way” (in your own time, using whatever tools/resources/beliefs that work FOR YOU as opposed to those that work for your friends, family, church).
The second is “When Life gives you lemons, go (first) for the onion,” meaning that the first step in healing is TO HONOR OUR GRIEF. That applies regardless of whether your anger is due to loss found within life or one that is found in death…
Thanks for this insightful and thoughtful post, BLW, for there are many angry people that can benefit from the reflections imparted within…
Thank you for the taking the time to leave such a thoughtful comment, AE. It seems to me that “heal it your way” – and maybe even “deal with it your way” – ought to be our first response, and perhaps it was, once upon a time, when we didn’t express everything so publicly or feel we could judge others so easily by our own experience.
The plethora of voices and resources “out here” is both helpful and harmful. They give us community, solace, cheerleading – information if we want to take the time to digest it. But they (we) also tend to skim over issues that are highly personal and complex.
All the more reason to allow each other to honor their own feelings, as you say.
I really appreciate your insights here, D. I too have never liked the advice “move on,” I think spoken most often by people who’ve never dared to venture far or risk much emotion. And I think it’s high time someone raised the point that there are some acts that simply cannot be “gotten over.” Several friends of mine lost loved ones to suicide over the last few years, and the pain is in knowing that they now live with a hurt from which they can never heal. They can learn over many years how to live with that pain, so the pain becomes a companion, but not something they can rid themselves of.
I’ve tended to try and forgive…and my brother and I have butt heads because he cannot forgive the same person that I have. Despite what I said above I’m guilty of telling him to move on, to let go (maybe because I don’t want to see alienation within my own family?), but he cannot let go. Who is “right” in this case? Your post is making me think twice…
I agree with you 100% that anger is a smokescreen. I’ve had to learn that the hard way. Like you too I grew up breathing anger, and I was terrified. It took me a long time to see past the fear and to understand that my father was hurting and lonely and helpless, not “angry.” But I have such primitive knee jerk reactions to anger that I go into self-protection mode, and I can’t lend the sympathy that I need to the person who’s angry. The only person I *can* do this with is my own child. When he’s screaming and upset, it is not so hard for me to put my arms around him and try and calm him…but I can’t seem to do this with a man.
You raise many points, C.
You make me realize how many sorts of emotions / variations on anger we tuck under that one word. Like you, I deal better with anger from my children than adults, whether women or men.
But parents, partners, spouses, close friends – they aren’t of our bodies. They aren’t the child held in our arms at night, whether of our bodies or not. Our role is to protect them and perhaps we are less cowed by anything they do because of that position. As for adults – especially an angry parent or partner – for some of us, that emotion will arouse a fear of abandonment. We just want the anger to pass – and with it – our fear.
I agree BLW. I have taken a “you’re dead to me approach” which addresses the moving on, the anger, the experience, frustration, etc of divorce. Being angry is very self destructive and forgiving is just sometimes downright silly. Hence another ancient path seems a better fit over pop psychology
Ah, Curtis. Perhaps we should recognize that “pop” (popular) psychology provides many absolutes, great sound bites, and few real answers.