My therapist recently tossed me a hypothetical.
Picture this:
You’re walking down the street. On the corner stands a man—just standing there, minding his business. Out of nowhere, another guy walks up and kicks him. Hard. No warning, no reason.
Now, she asked me, do you feel angry for the man who got kicked?
I thought about it.
And I said, no.
Actually, I feel sad—for the person who did the kicking.
Because something must be broken in someone to think it’s okay to walk up and harm another person unprovoked. That kind of impulse doesn’t come from nowhere.
And my therapist just nodded. Then she said something interesting:
“But don’t you think it’s sometimes necessary to feel anger?”
I paused.
Maybe.
But here’s what I came back with:
The man who got kicked? He’ll probably be okay. Sure, it’s shocking. It might leave a bruise. Maybe it ruins his day. But bruises heal.
The guy who did the kicking? Whatever caused that—whatever internal storm made him think that was a good or necessary thing to do—that’s not a bruise. That’s a wound. And not one that fades in a few days. That’s the kind of pain that takes root. That lingers. That spreads.
So, no, I didn’t feel angry. I felt something deeper. Maybe sadness. Maybe compassion. Maybe confusion. But not rage.
Still, my therapist’s question stuck with me: Is it okay to feel anger?
Is anger necessary? Or is it something else?
Maybe anger is a story we tell ourselves.
A choice we make.
A lens we pick up and look through.
It reminds me of the book The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga. They talk about how emotions like anger aren’t absolute. They’re not automatic. They’re created. Constructed. Often used as tools. You don’t have to pick them up just because they’re offered.
So maybe that’s the question:
Is anger a reflex?
Or is it a decision?
Is it the fire we need to protect ourselves?
Or is it something we set ourselves on fire with?
What do you think?