The Fire of Female Anger and the Sacred Rage of Mothers
- Jillian Oetting
- Nov 10, 2024
- 5 min read
It’s 2024, and I am angry as hell.
Angry because this country, our society, consistently finds ways to diminish, disregard, and silence the voices, power, and needs of women, especially mothers. The recent presidential election is yet another reminder of just how deep-seated this disdain for women’s autonomy and anger truly is. It’s time to recognize female anger for what it is: a powerful force, a form of clarity, a deeply human response to injustice.
Female anger, especially maternal anger, is not a threat. It is the fire that fuels movements, the spark that ignites change. And yet, we are taught to avoid it, to hold it in, bury it, smooth it over until it simmers into shame. It’s a story as old as time. Society has conditioned us to believe that anger is a betrayal of our femininity. It’s “unladylike,” “unbecoming,” or simply “too much.” Soraya Chemaly’s Rage Becomes Her describes how women’s anger has been systematically dismissed, belittled, and rebranded as weakness. Instead of seeing our anger as a sign that something is wrong, as an indication that boundaries have been violated, society tells us to view it as a personal flaw. Chemaly reminds us that “Women have every right to be angry.” We have every reason to be angry, and it’s time that anger is respected, validated, and—dare I say—embraced.
Let’s talk about mothers and “mom rage.” The research is clear: maternal anger is real, it is valid, and it often emerges as a reaction to the intense demands of modern motherhood. Recent studies show that “mom rage” isn’t simply a result of postpartum depression, nor is it an irrational outburst. It’s an emotional response to the isolation, lack of support, and unrelenting societal pressure placed on mothers. In the 2023 study “A Fire in My Belly: Conceptualizing U.S. Women’s Experiences of ‘Mom Rage,’” researchers show how mothers are bombarded with expectations to embody patience, calm, and grace, even as they carry overwhelming responsibilities that often go unnoticed and unsupported . This is not just a burden—it’s an impossible standard, one that fractures our sense of self-worth and fuels anger that, rather than being accepted, is stigmatized and hidden. “Mom rage” is a product of a society that demands the impossible from mothers while giving them little to no help in return.
Our culture preaches that “good mothers” are endlessly giving and self-sacrificing, their identities completely submerged in their roles. In her book All the Rage, Darcy Lockman illustrates how women are conditioned to accept unequal emotional and physical labor within households as “normal.” Lockman’s work sheds light on the reality that most mothers, despite working full-time jobs, continue to shoulder the bulk of caregiving, household responsibilities, and emotional labor. This dynamic doesn’t just create stress; it cultivates resentment and anger that many mothers feel deeply but are reluctant to voice. And who can blame them? Society has told them that to feel anger—especially toward their partners, who are supposed to “help out” occasionally—is to betray the role of the “good mother” and even risk their worthiness as caregivers. The internal conflict, the split between the “ideal” mother society demands and the reality of what mothers actually experience, is a breeding ground for anger and rage.
It's very important to note: anger and aggression are not the same. Anger is not dangerous (yes, read that again). Anger is a natural human reaction to feeling violated, overlooked, or powerless. While aggression lashes out to cause harm, anger serves as a spotlight on injustice, a motivator for action, a call for change. The research is clear: anger, especially the anger of women, can be a transformative force for societal progress. As Hailey Murphy’s 2024 study on women’s anger and politics reveals, “women’s rage is not only a legitimate emotional reaction but also a crucial catalyst for social and political change” . Female anger is feared precisely because it has the potential to shake up established systems, to expose hypocrisy, and to demand accountability. This is why society invests so heavily in keeping us quiet, in telling us that our anger is ugly, unreasonable, or even dangerous.
Anger, especially that of motivated mothers, is a deeply unsettling force to a society that relies on their quiet compliance. Motherhood, under the current cultural framework, has become a role defined not just by care but by sacrifice, by endless reservoirs of patience and restraint, all while managing the needs of children, partners, and sometimes extended family, often with little to no real support. Mothers are expected to run on fumes, to be everyone’s emotional rock, yet they are given no room for their own needs, frustrations, or ambitions. A Fire in My Belly illuminates the ways “mom rage” is driven by isolation, exhaustion, and a lack of structural support . “Mom rage” is not some irrational or hormonal outburst; it’s a reaction to a reality that is simply unsustainable.
The lack of societal support for mothers in America is shameful. Unlike countries that provide extended maternity leave, subsidized childcare, and comprehensive healthcare, the U.S. places mothers in an isolating and exhausting environment that leaves them vulnerable and overwhelmed. And when mothers reach a breaking point, they are often blamed or shamed for their anger. The 2022 study Seeing Red: A Grounded Theory Study of Women’s Anger After Childbirth reveals that persistent, intense anger is common in mothers navigating postpartum demands, yet it’s largely ignored by a medical system that treats maternal anger as a symptom of “hormonal imbalance” rather than a valid reaction to profound social neglect .
We live in a country that pushes women to the edge and then blames them when they fall. And yet, here’s what they’re afraid to admit: that anger is a force of momentum. Women who are fed up are powerful. Mothers who have reached their limit are unstoppable. Our anger is not a defect; it’s a fire that illuminates a path forward, one that demands a better future. Rebecca Traister, author of Good and Mad, writes that “the suppression of women’s rage is one of the most powerful tools for maintaining the patriarchal order.” We are told to stay quiet, to “play nice,” but anger, when harnessed, becomes a rallying cry that cannot be ignored. This country fears the anger of mothers because it has the potential to shatter the myth that motherhood and sacrifice are synonymous.
So yes, I’m angry. I’m angry at a society that fails mothers, at a system that pushes us to the brink, and at a culture that only seems to double down on its disregard for women’s power and voices. But I’ll be honest: right now, I don’t feel the surge of hope or motivation that these moments usually bring. The last week was a gut punch, a stark reminder that we still have a long way to go in respecting women. Right now, I feel deeply let down and betrayed by my country. I feel like I need time to grieve, to process, and to gather my strength again. Fighting this battle is exhausting, and maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to give ourselves permission to rest.
And while I know these words might resonate with other women, with mothers who feel this same rage, I recognize that real, lasting change won’t come solely from our voices. It has to go beyond us. The real shift happens when men hear these messages, not just as bystanders, and not as our "protectors", but as allies who act. When they are the ones who not only understand our anger but work to dismantle the structures that cause it. Until men are reading these words, taking them to heart, and changing their own roles in this system, our rage will continue to burn without resolution.
So, for now, I’m stepping back to regroup, to let the fire rest. I don’t know what comes next, but I do know this: our anger, our stories, and our voices are powerful, and it’s time for others—especially men—to read them, feel them, and act on them. We can’t carry this fight alone forever.
From one Angry Mother to another - you go, girl.