When Anxiety Is Really Anger: A Relational Perspective on Displaced Emotion
Christine D. Fazio, LMHC-D, LPC, ACS
Most people who come to therapy naming anxiety as their main concern describe a familiar cluster of symptoms—racing thoughts, tight chest, trouble sleeping, difficulty concentrating. Sometimes it feels like a vague sense of dread or a persistent worry that won’t quiet down. But as we begin to explore the roots of that anxiety together, something deeper often begins to emerge: beneath the surface, there’s anger—unspoken, unacknowledged, and often displaced.
From a relational psychoanalytic perspective, emotions don’t exist in isolation. They are shaped in the context of our earliest relationships, internalized over time, and then enacted—often unconsciously—in our present lives. When anger is unsafe to feel or express, especially in early attachment relationships, the psyche finds a way to manage it. One of the most common defense strategies? Turning anger into anxiety.
Why Would We Turn Anger Into Anxiety?
As children, we are exquisitely attuned to the emotional climate around us. If anger—our own or others’—was punished, ignored, or met with withdrawal, we learned quickly that this emotion was dangerous. And so we adapted. We may have swallowed our anger, redirected it inward, or transformed it into something more “acceptable”—like worry, guilt, or perfectionism.
Over time, this internal re-routing becomes automatic. We no longer recognize our anger for what it is. Instead, we feel anxious. We fear conflict. We obsess over whether we've upset someone. We try to control outcomes to avoid disappointment or rejection. These are all ways we try to manage something deeper that’s not being named.
Anxiety as a Signal, Not a Symptom
In relational work, we treat anxiety not just as a symptom to be reduced but as a signal to be understood. We listen carefully to the language of the body and the emotional patterns that arise in the therapeutic relationship itself. Anxiety often emerges in moments of perceived threat—not always from something objectively dangerous, but from something emotionally charged: a boundary we’re afraid to set, a truth we’re scared to acknowledge, a disappointment we don’t want to feel.
Sometimes, anxiety appears in the room precisely when a patient starts to make contact with their anger. That anger may not be loud or explosive. It may show up as a quiet resentment, a sense of being unseen, or a pull toward withdrawal. These are all relational cues that something important is trying to be expressed.
Displaced Anger, Disowned Power
When anger is disowned, we can lose touch with our sense of agency. We become anxious in the face of choices or conflict because we haven’t learned how to stay in contact with our assertiveness. Displaced anger might show up in our bodies—tight shoulders, clenched jaws—or in our relationships, where we may overreact to minor slights or avoid difficult conversations altogether.
In therapy, we gently explore where this anger belongs. Whose feelings are we carrying? What messages did we internalize about the danger of being angry? And how can we reclaim this feeling as part of our emotional truth?
Reclaiming Anger, Reclaiming Self
From a relational perspective, therapy is a co-created space where we learn—often for the first time—that it's possible to feel angry and stay connected. That we can express hard emotions and not be abandoned. That our full selves are welcome.
As we begin to integrate anger rather than displace it, anxiety often softens. There is less need for the psyche to be on high alert when we are no longer in hiding from our own truth. Anger, when allowed to exist, becomes a source of clarity, vitality, and boundary-setting. It helps us know where we end and others begin. It teaches us what matters.
If you notice that your anxiety seems persistent or confusing, it may be worth asking: What might I be angry about? And if that question feels difficult to answer, therapy can offer a space to find out—not alone, but in relationship.