If you had been a fly on the wall of my house 17 years ago, your assessment of me, of my character, would have been different to the one I imagine you would have today.

With two young children ( 7 and 5) in tow, we had just moved to Sydney after an international stint spanning 11 years (three years in London, three years in Ohio - including both Cleveland and Columbus- and two and a half years in Wellington, New Zealand). I had a husband who travelled for business almost every week, for at least three days, and it was my sole responsibility to find and choose schools and houses, and to settle the children into each new culture.

In addition I was trying to resurrect a career, which always seemed to come last on any to-do list, and coping with the loneliness that is the result of constant moving. It was incredibly difficult - and it is only now, when I look back with the benefit of distance and hindsight, that I’m amazed that I survived, let alone flourished.

Every day required me to dig deep down to the depths of my inner resources, to provide my family with the affection, patience, inspiration and all the emotional and physical support they needed, as well as the ingenuity, creativity, and joy I needed to continually re-build a new life for myself. It often felt like I was trying to go uphill with skates on.

Of course there were times I slid backwards out of control. In those times I would become angry, which would sometimes explode out over onto my innocent children, and what I perceived to be my not-so-innocent husband, who expected much of me, but contributed little.

So if you’d heard me in one of my rants, you might have thought I was neither a good person nor a good mother. But I think you would have judged amiss.

Making a judgment about someone from the outside rarely approximates truth. It is like looking through a porthole into the engine room of a luxury cruise liner and believing you understand the nature and workings the ship.

What would not have been readily apparent to you is that my anger was in fact the doorway that led to one aspect of my emotional and spiritual mastery. I have written in my book Love Equals Power about how, gradually, with the help of the ideas and teachings of Gary Zukav and Linda Francis in their book The Heart of the Soul: Emotional Awareness, I learned that my anger concealed deeper, hidden emotions - the feeling that my needs always came last and that others seemed to have all the power in deciding the conditions of my life.

Once I was aware of this I was able to do the prayerful work to heal those feelings. This led me to be able to see myself, and my life, differently, and to understand that I could always make choices that enhanced my own joy, fulfillment and peace; an approach to life I immediately adopted. ( If you are interested, I include all the details of this healing, the thoughts and actions which led to the complete and permanent healing of my anger, and the consequent headaches, in my book, mentioned above).

The results have been radical. I now know, and live, the freedom I have always craved. Paradoxically, meeting my own needs, filling my own emotional tanks, has given me greater resources to meet the needs of others who cross my path.

My anger was not me. It was merely my body pointing out where I needed to put my attention, to alert me to where I needed healing. In these terms, anger ultimately made me the best mother, partner and person I could be.

Eileen McBride
Eileen McBride is the author of Love Equals Power 2, a spiritual seeker and teacher. This article was published on July 7, 2011.