As a girl of temper I quite often go up in flames. Because I do give a f*ck and things have meaning to me. So when attacked in any form, the emotion, whether it’s thundering anger or burning joy, is multiplied within the split of a second. Like lighting a match.
The younger version of me, let’s say late teen and early twenties, was walking ticking bomb, rebellious in heart, courageous and confident, like all youngsters are. Back then “I knew better”, I wasn’t afraid to burn. Until I burned someone I loved. Fire words we say in anger hurts the most.
Then I grew cautious about those temper tantrums, I wanted to be stable, I didn’t want people tiptoeing around me in fear that they might do or say something that would unleash the storm within me. I wanted respect, but not induced by fear.
So I slowly learned “how to become a member of modern society” by biting my tongue and keeping the fire inside. To vent that power I became passive aggressive person. I’m not saying it’s the best approach to people and situations, but at this point in my life, I can’t deny that choleric temperament in me.
I still firmly believe we need those flames in our lives. Time to time. Burning desires, fierce storms. It shows us what we care about, it points out our values. But we also need to be in charge of the eruption, not just being dragged around by it. It’s a generated power that can be useful if focused in the right direction.
After all there always will be topics that anger us on the deepest level of our humanity.