Not Always Rage: Naming What We Carry on the Path to Healing

I recently began reading Healing Rage by Ruth King. Her work resonates with me — not only in what it names, but in the space it creates to explore what lives beneath the surface of our emotional lives. Like many women — and Black women especially — I have carried burdens that have often gone unnamed, unspoken, and unacknowledged.

King calls it rage. And sometimes, yes, that fits. But as I reflect on my journey — as a mother, grandmother, student, teacher, and woman who has lived through both systemic silencing and institutional neglect — I know that what we carry doesn’t always fit neatly into one word.

The Weight Beneath the Surface

For some, it is rage.

For others, it is grief.

Exhaustion.

Disappointment.

Betrayal.

A quiet ache that accumulates after years of being unseen, unheard, and underestimated.

We carry what was inherited, what was withheld, and what was never named at all.

Though the names may change and interchange, the impact is often the same, resulting in unprocessed pain that sits in our bodies, our spirits, our choices, and our silences.

Why Naming Matters

Reading King’s work reminded me that naming is a critical first step. When we name what we carry, we bring it out of the shadows and invite it into the light of our own awareness. We face it. We unpack it. We witness it. Then we begin to treat it.

But naming is also deeply personal.

In my work through Grandma Knows Best, I hold space for women to name their own truths — whether it’s rage, grief, weariness, or something for which no word yet exists. The important thing is not which word we choose, but that we allow ourselves the dignity of choosing.

Beyond the Single Story

This brought me back to a TED Talk moment I revisited over the weekend: The Danger of a Single Story by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, where she reminds us of what happens when only one narrative is allowed to exist:

"The single story creates stereotypes. And the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete."

Too often, Black women are handed the single story of rage.

The “angry Black woman.”

The loud one.

The bitter one.

The one who must be managed, silenced, or explained away.

But our stories are not singular — and our voices carry that truth.

We carry laughter.

We carry tenderness.

We carry grief, exhaustion, brilliance, joy, wisdom, and — yes — sometimes rage.

But we are not defined by one piece of our experience.

Healing demands that we reject the single story and honor the full complexity of who we are.

Healing is a Return, Not a Race

Healing is not about getting to the finish line.

It’s not about checking a box or choosing the "right" word.

It’s about sitting gently with our own stories.

It’s about allowing ourselves to rest, to be seen, to grieve what was lost, and to rediscover what still resides inside us.

Rage may be one doorway. Grief may be another. Silence may be its own kind of language. And using our voice, another. All of them deserve space.

You Are Not Alone

As I continue to do this work — personally and through Grandma Knows Best — I hold space for many stories.

You are not required to fit into anyone else’s version of what healing looks like.

You are not required to name your pain in anyone else’s language.

Whether you call it rage, grief, or simply “the weight carried too long” — your healing matters.

You are not alone.

I See You.