My Inner Voice

So, in looking over my last post, I seem angry. Angry at the world for its vehement opposition to crocs. And, angry at those tapered jean affectionados who--for some reason--can't find their way into a pair of boot-legs. Am I really an angry person? I am making a concerted effort not to delete my posts (or even erase as I am typing...although I often can't resist. Even to write this paranthetical phrase, I reached for the "delete" button several times) because this blog is supposed to be an organic flow rather than (oops. went to delete again) a meticulously, perfected document of my life. But, I was surprised with my ability to feel anger. Anger, for me, is not an easy emotion. Guilt, yes. Frustration, check mark. General feelings of being upset, for sure. But I never embraced anger until fairly recently. I've read the pop psych (I actually love pop psych in general, so of course I've read it) that women feel uncomfortable being angry. For my own sample size of one, I'd have to agree. For me, it's two-fold: one, I don't like to harbor any ill will towards anyone, and two--to be totally honest--I usually think things are my fault (if self-anger were a real word, I would have probably included it above). But recently, with the last few years or so, I am beginning to see that I do have anger and I can express it. I still don't like how it sounds or makes me look, but it is a part of my inner voice and I need it. Everyone does.