I was a pretty angry youth...

Recently, I joined a boxing club for the first time in my life. Pretty great experience being immersed in a culture that creates safety for people who, in all honesty, might just need to hit something. As a youth, I think I missed out on a lot of the contact sports that could have filled that void. Never got into rugby, soccer, basketball or anything where it was somewhat accepted that you might hurt someone, even by accident. And I’m not saying it’s okay to hurt somebody out of pure malice or a desire to see others suffer, but I believe I’d have benefited from a sport that entertains the possibility of playful violence.

I think that’s where my “Christian moral compass” started to seriously undermine my ability to fully embrace my adolescence. It was as if I couldn’t handle being seen as “violent” in the eyes of a supposed moral authority. It also didn’t help that my dad was (and still is) obsessed with baseball, and unless I wanted him to disown me unofficially, I knew I had to dedicate myself to baseball. Even if it wasn’t really helping me work with my anger, which was starting to become more of a problem as I got into my later teen years.

But 7 years of baseball did teach me other things, such as: sportsmanship, the importance of teamwork, how to be “coachable”, the importance of training and dedication… and it’s actually pretty fun. But at the same time, it also exposed me to the ugliness of my dad’s raw emotions, even if just for a few brief windows. There were a couple of core memories where I glimpsed aspects of his unfiltered anger when nobody was watching, where he showcased his authority or disapproval at any sign of protest. I’m not going to pretend his anger was a kind of noble act either. I don’t believe it was. I always thought it was representative of how deeply he neglected his own feelings, until they inevitably boiled over. As a result, I began to demonize my anger, desperately trying to avoid that same ugliness I’d originally glimpsed when my dad’s veil was somewhat lifted.

Below is a painting I did towards the end of my counselling training at Rhodes Wellness College. I named it a couple of times, but I most recently titled it “Anger and Hate alchemy”, representing my desire to transform aggressive feelings into feelings like courage, love, and support.

But recently, my new boxing coach, Steven, announced how he wanted to bring more youths into his boxing club. Offering free programs to young men who just need to build a relationship with their anger, versus amplifying it (which could be dangerous for some). It’s here where I felt inspired to write this article, because I realized that being a troubled, angry, rebellious youth myself, I could have seriously used that kind of outlet 15 years ago. I did a lot of “stupid” things as a youth, sometimes to fit in, sometimes because I was bored, hyperactive and had the freedom to skip classes and more or less get away with it. But things did get a lot easier when I was 18 and went to Cabe, an alternative school that was designed for troubled youths. It’s here I was gradually introduced to my creative side, I was surrounded by safe adults who took the time to listen and supported me deeply, learned to do yoga, and in all honesty, I felt a lot less angry than I had in a long time.

I don’t think the anger ever really went away; it was drowned by smoking cigarettes, smoking weed, party drugs, raves, distraction after distraction. But at age 31, fully sober, now a trained therapist, and finally looking at my anger in my own therapy,

I’ve discovered safe spaces to express my anger. What’s really bringing me peace of mind isn’t just training in a boxing club or chopping wood (where those do help), but the conversations I feel empowered to have with people in my life who might otherwise shy away from or actively dismiss my anger. I no longer take their cue that “my anger isn’t welcome” and find my fire, balanced with the stability I’ve built and trust that even if people don’t feel comfortable, if we’re having a tough conversation, I can still create safety around my experience of anger. I’m no longer people-pleasing or redirecting the unexpressed anger anymore, which historically transformed the anger into resentment, passive aggression, or worse.

So when I express myself nowadays, I know it’s coming from a valid place. I know my needs are being advocated for, and perhaps most importantly, I learn to trust my anger, discerning its use carefully.

If you live near Pitt Meadows, check out Steve’s boxing club, Third Space Boxing B.C., you can find his Instagram here!