They have called it hysteria. They have dismissed it as madness — shrill, emotional, irrational. For centuries, society has viewed female anger as something to be stifled. Women have been urged to soften their voices, or worse, been persecuted for expressing any inkling of displeasure. Still, history tells a different story, littered with the remnants of defiance, the reverberating echoes of women who have harnessed their rage and used it as a powerful force to drive progress. Female anger has never been just noise; it is the catalyst for change, igniting movements and fueling revolutions. This Women’s History Month, we trace the path that the fire of female rage has illuminated and celebrate the undeniable power of a woman scorned.
From the beginning, raw expressions of female emotion have been pathologized, deemed an outbreak to be contained. The word “hysteria” is derived from the Greek root hystera, meaning uterus or womb. In modern usage, this term describes someone overcome with agitation, exhibiting uncontrollable behavior. Until 1980, however, hysteria was recognized as an official medical diagnosis, a catchall for a variety of issues almost exclusively applied to women. By the 18th century, hysteria diagnoses were frequent, feeding into the broader notion that women were predisposed to behavioral disorders simply because of their biology.
Considered both chronic and common among women, symptoms included anxiety, insomnia, irritability and “a tendency to cause trouble.” In reality, the widespread diagnosis was not a reflection of female mental health, but rather a tool for maintaining control. The rampancy of female hysteria is one of the earliest instances of the medicalization of women’s behaviors producing a legacy of stigmatization that would continue to shape how women’s anger and emotional expression were understood for generations to come.
The attitudes that led to the establishment of female hysteria soon took on a far more sinister form, driving the persecution of women who resisted societally imposed molds. Social tensions culminated in one of history’s most brutal campaigns against women under the pretense of upholding morality. The paranoia of the “witchcraft craze” that had surged through Europe for centuries took root in colonial Massachusetts, igniting what is now known as the Salem Witch Trials.
What started as a series of inexplicable fits and odd behavior among young girls quickly spiraled into mass accusations of witchcraft. Over the course of just one year, more than 200 people, primarily women, were accused of practicing dark magic, and 20 were ultimately executed for their alleged ties to the devil. An overwhelming majority of these victims were outspoken women whose offenses were not supernatural, but social — their real crime was existing outside the confines of social norms. The age of witch hunts established an expectation of docility that would manifest throughout history to subdue women and justify their subjugation. Used as a means of control, this vilification reinforced the notion that women who asserted themselves were dangerous and in need of correction. The Salem Witch Trials distorted their emotion, turning female autonomy into a punishable offense.
The suppression of female emotion was never incidental; it was strategic. Female anger is a palpable force, with strength that threatens to undermine social order and challenge the status quo. A woman silenced is a woman controlled. While witch hunts and hysteria diagnoses eventually waned, the underlying attitudes that fueled them lived on, becoming deeply woven into the fabric of social conditioning imposed on all women.
The roots of this idea can be traced back to the Bible, with several verses echoing the danger and atrocity that is an irate woman. Proverbs 21:19 offers one such example, reading, “It is better to dwell in the wilderness, than with a contentious and an angry woman.” This verse starkly suggests that a desolate lifestyle devoid of comfort is preferable to a woman who dares to voice her discontent. The implication is clear: if a woman wishes to maintain a happy home and marriage, she must swallow her rage. Anger is taught to be incompatible with ladylikeness and desirability, etching a cultural narrative into history that confines women to a state of impassivity. By detaching anger from the ideals of “proper” womanhood, women are robbed from the emotion that best protects against injustice. To be angry is to be unattractive and impolite. Fearing its power, society persistently seeks to disarm women of this weapon, but in the face of iniquities, the force of female anger has proven to be undeniable.
History is often shaped by the fury of the unheard, and in the early months of the French Revolution, that fury belonged to the women of Paris. On Oct. 5, 1789, tens of thousands of Parisian market women, fueled by anger and armed with whatever they could find, trekked 13 miles in blistering rain to the Palace of Versailles. What began as a protest against the city’s debilitating food crisis became a turning point in the revolution, one that would alter the course of French history. The unrelenting nature of the women forced the royal court to confront the suffering of its people head-on, not only delivering a crushing blow to the historic system of absolute monarchy, but also redefining their own political role. No longer on the sidelines, the Women’s March on Versailles proved that female anger is a force capable of propelling progress and demanding accountability, cementing the place of women in the fight against injustice.
19th century suffragettes also reshaped the routes women pursued to secure political recognition. They pushed boundaries that were previously untouched, reflecting an understanding of a principle vital to the achievement of change: polite requests for equality would not be enough. This new generation of women mobilized their anger as a vessel for progress, adopting bold and confrontational tactics of direct action. They smashed windows, chained themselves to government buildings and staged hunger strikes from within prison walls, commanding attention on a grand scale. Their defiance became too large a spectacle to ignore, finally receiving long-awaited recognition from the government and becoming the focus of the political world. This wave of militancy wasn’t just rebellion, it was strategy. In 1920, their efforts culminated in victory: the ratification of the 19th Amendment, granting most women the right to vote. However, many women — particularly women of color — were still restricted from exercising this right. The fight for universal enfranchisement continued long after 1920, as activists worked to dismantle all barriers to the ballot box. Suffragettes proved that anger, when wielded with purpose, is a vehicle for progress; because they refused to be dismissed, generations of women after them did not have to ask for permission to be heard.
Women’s fury reached a crescendo in the 1960s and ’70s, sparking a renewed push for female autonomy and empowerment. The second wave of feminism laid the foundation for the fights that continue today, driven by demands for workplace rights, reproductive freedom and liberation from traditional gender-based roles. Women spoke out with unprecedented vigor against outdated expectations of submission and servitude. “The Feminine Mystique” by Betty Friedan, challenged the idea that women could only find fulfillment through a domestic lifestyle. The same year as the book’s publication, the Equal Pay Act was signed into law, followed by Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which barred employment discrimination on the basis of sex. Another legal victory came with the Supreme Court’s landmark decision in Griswold v. Connecticut, which secured the right to birth control use for married couples, marking a crucial step toward reproductive autonomy. Still, this era of rebellion extended beyond the courtroom and paper pages.
In 1968, feminists took their rage to the Atlantic City boardwalk, staging a protest at the Miss America Pageant. As a rejection of the beauty standards imposed on women, activists famously threw bras, high heels and other symbolic items into a “Freedom Trash Can,” making a spectacle of their fight against the objectification of women. Despite the progress made, second-wave feminism was limited in its reach, failing to amplify the voices of women of color and queer individuals. Activists such as Angela Davis, Gloria Jean Watkins (better known by the pen name bell hooks) and Audre Lorde criticized mainstream feminism, emphasizing the importance of intersectionality in the movement. Though imperfect, this era of female resistance proved that women’s anger could drive real, lasting change, setting the standard for future generations.
In the digital age, female anger has found new platforms for expression and action. The rise of social media marked a seismic shift in the scope of social initiatives, playing a crucial role in amplifying voices that were once stifled. The #MeToo movement demonstrated the power of virality, campaigning against sexual violence and rape culture. The initiative prompted users to share experiences of sexual abuse, forming a community of solidarity and sparking a broader conversation about the pervasive systems and mechanisms of sexual violence. Accusations of misconduct were leveraged against high-profile figures in media, politics and more, exposing the deeply entrenched institutional patterns that allow violence to take root. In this new era, women’s anger is no longer just a private emotion; it’s a collective force that demands societal change in a highly visible fashion. Social media has democratized activism, providing a platform for anyone to share their outrage, organize demonstrations and demand accountability.
Womanly wrath is nothing new, but it is more necessary than ever. Systems of oppression depend on the passivity of those they seek to subjugate. They thrive on exhaustion, but still, rage does not dwindle so easily. Anger is the language of injustice, a spark fanned into flame by centuries of grievance until a blazing inferno stands in its wake. From protest signs to Twitter hashtags, the embers of fury sizzle, curling at the ankles of institutions, threatening to consume the structures built to silence them. Centuries of persecution have fueled its blaze from the brewing rage of women who have endured restrictions to their voices, choices and autonomy. It has scorched through the pages of history, fed by every occasion a woman was told she had she had no place to speak, to vote, to work, to lead, to oppose, to make her own decisions. And still, it persists, growing with every new attempt to stifle it.
From chanting in the streets to launching social media initiatives, fury has been an insurmountable weapon leveraged against oppression by women who refused to yield to dismissals. It is not a weakness or an abnormality, but instead the driving force behind some of history’s most transformative moments. Progress has never been polite; it is loud and unapologetic. Women should not be taught to suppress their rage but to channel it. We must take the lead of centuries of rage-filled women before us who laid the groundwork for the rights we fight so relentlessly to preserve today. The legacy of angry women will never reach its conclusion. The witches, the hysterics, the madwomen, the emotional — we’re no longer silent.