Chapter 22 - MY RELATIONSHIP WITH ANGER
I spent years embarrassed by the image of myself cutting Sabrina’s hair.
People praised it online.
That made it worse.
Comments:
QUEEN MOM.
SHE GOT WHAT SHE DESERVED.
ICONIC REVENGE.
No.
Grace once saw a repost when she was fourteen.
She came to me.
“People think it was cool.”
“I know.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
“You were protecting me.”
“At first.”
“Then?”
“I wanted Sabrina to feel what you felt.”
“Did she?”
“Probably.”
“Did it help me?”
I thought.
“No.”
Grace nodded.
“Okay.”
I had completed court-ordered counseling years earlier.
I stayed in therapy longer by choice.
Anger was not my enemy.
It told me something mattered.
The question was what I did after.
I eventually taught Grace the same.
Not because she was violent.
Because every child raised after family abuse risks learning that rage equals strength.
At seventeen she punched a wall after an argument with Bella.
Bruised knuckles.
I drove her to urgent care.
She said:
“You going to lecture me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“The wall already did.”
She laughed despite herself.
Then:
“Were you like this?”
“Yes.”
“Did it work?”
“No.”
That was enough.
No perfect mother.
May you like
No perfect daughter.
Better tools.
