Understanding Anger in Therapy

Chloe
Nov 17, 2025
4 min read

Updated: Jan 19

by Chloe Sykes, Art Psychotherapist and Yoga Teacher

(Art Therapy Manchester | Therapy Manchester)— Hey From Within

A client sits down, pulling their chair slightly closer to the table than usual. Their breath shortens. Their shoulders rise. They choose an oil pastel and begin pressing into the page with more force than they realise. They choose clay, and their hands begin to release tension.

For a moment, they stop. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to press so hard.”

There is nothing “wrong.”

There is nothing to apologise for.

Something is happening, and it matters.

In art psychotherapy, anger rarely walks in calmly. It shifts the atmosphere. The pace changes.

People may:

Push harder into art materials.
Switch into a controlling mode, thinking, “It has to be perfect.”
Swing to the opposite, using more impulsive, chaotic strokes.
Become silent.
Withdraw or appear far away.
Take up more space, noise, or pressure.
Become visibly agitated, restless, or fidgety.

Everyone’s anger has its own dialect. Therapy is one of the few places where people are invited to listen to it rather than fear it.

What Anger Is Really Doing: A Bit of Psychoeducation

Modern research (APA, attachment-based and somatic approaches, sensorimotor psychotherapy) consistently shows:

Anger is a protective emotion. It often arrives when:

A boundary has been crossed.
Something feels unfair.
A need has not been met.
Safety feels threatened.
The nervous system perceives danger.
Another feeling underneath (fear, hurt, shame) is too overwhelming, too uncomfortable, so anger feels more manageable than what is hiding.

Anger is not the problem. Feeling unsafe with anger is.

Many clients have never been allowed to feel angry while growing up. Some were punished for it. Others learned that their anger caused distance, fear, arguments, or rejection. As adults, they often say:

“I’ve not been allowed to feel angry.”

“It means I’m a bad person.”

“I hate feeling out of control.”

“Nobody taught me what to do with it.”

Therapy becomes the first place where anger can be noticed rather than shut down.

What We Actually Do With Anger in Art Therapy

As anger begins to surface in therapy, the first thing we often do is gently notice what’s happening. This is not done in a structured or checklist way, but in a soft, curious manner.

Clients start to become aware of the voices inside, the tone they speak with, and the urges that suddenly appear: “I want to tear the paper,” “I want to hide.” They also notice shifts within their body: tension tightening, energy rising, restlessness building.

Thoughts may speed up or loop. The feeling might take on an image of its own, such as a volcano, a red mist, fireworks, or a locked box.

As these experiences are named, something naturally softens. The nervous system responds to recognition. Naming is taming.

Anger then begins to weave itself into the art-making process. Some clients press harder into materials without realising. Others hover over the page, unable to start.

Apologies spill out.

The temptation to reach for the pencil rubber becomes irresistible. Some plan every small detail to stay “in control,” while others keep starting again.

All of these responses make sense. Anger is a big emotion; big emotions often seek either containment or escape.

In the creative process, metaphors, lines, pressure, shapes, and colour become a safe way for anger to emerge outside the body but still be held in the room.

Choosing materials becomes part of this exploration. Certain moments call for something more containing: clay, pens, smaller surfaces, bounded shapes, or sturdier paper. Other moments ask for expansion: large sheets, charcoal, oil pastels, paint, guided drawings, or faster, freer gestures.

Each material offers its own therapeutic language, revealing what the anger needs for grounding, release, expression, or reassurance.

Over time, the relationship with anger shifts. It begins to feel less like a threat and more like a message worth listening to.

Clients often realise:

“It’s intense, but it’s not bad.”

“I can feel angry without exploding.”

“I’m starting to understand what this feeling is trying to tell me.”

As anger is welcomed rather than feared, compassion grows. Creative risks become easier. The pencil rubber stays in the pot. The pressure to get things “right” loosens. The need to start again fades.

This is the quiet transformation that unfolds when anger finally has room to exist.

Why Therapists Work With Anger

Because emotionally, psychologically, and neurologically:

Anger is information.

Noticing it helps people understand:

Where their boundaries lie.
When something feels unfair.
What they’re protecting.
Where they feel powerless.
What old stories still shape their anger, the shadows of the past caught up in the present.
What they need in order to feel safe.

Anger becomes less of an enemy and more of a compass.

It’s Okay if You’ve Never Felt Safe with Anger

Many people weren’t taught what to do with anger. Some were told it was dangerous, rude, or selfish. However, anger is simply a feeling, and feelings pass when held with compassion and curiosity.

Therapy is not about “fixing” you. You are not broken. The world comes with real challenges that leave people feeling unsafe. Art psychotherapy offers a safe, creative, regulated space to finally meet parts of you that were previously pushed away.

And yes, you’re still welcome here if anger terrifies you.