Angry? Me, angry? I never thought so. In fact, if anyone was a “nice girl” it was yours truly. A people-pleasing, don’t rock the boat, smile-always-on-my-face nice girl. Everyone said so. I took pride in my desire to make everyone happy (even though I never achieved that.) And then I became a mother. As my oldest hit the toddler years, I transformed into someone I didn’t recognize. I was angry — most of the time. I didn’t often look angry. But there it was — my anger, thinly disguised behind a weak smile, ready to burst on the scene in …
