Sacred Rage

What if everything you were taught about anger is wrong?

I grew up in a spiritual family, within a Nordic culture shaped by feminine conditioning, emotional suppression, and avoidance of conflict at all costs. In Danish society, anger is not only misunderstood but condemned. At home, anger was deemed unspiritual—something to transcend, rather than befriend.

Like many girls and young women, I had no role models for healthy expressions of rage.

As a teenager, I was seething. I felt out of place in society and at home. I didn’t know how to express my anger, and with no healthy outlet, my rage either erupted in bursts or sank deep into my body.

When anger is repressed, it doesn’t disappear—it often transforms into depression, self-hatred, or self-sabotage. That was the reality of my teens and early twenties.

Without access to my anger, I became boundaryless and reckless. What I didn’t know then was that anger is, at its core, a defense mechanism—the body’s natural way of saying “no” and upholding boundaries. Because I couldn’t harness it, I turned instead to fawning and people-pleasing.

The fawn response is a survival strategy—appeasing the person or abuser instead of fighting back or leaving. While it can happen to anyone, it is particularly common in girls and women, who are conditioned to be soft, agreeable, and pleasing from a very young age. We are taught to smile, to be sweet, to never raise our voice. Rarely are we taught to stand in our power and say “enough.”

The truth is: anger is a natural, healthy, and vital human response.

It is as essential to our emotional ecosystem as the immune system is to the body. When a pathogen enters, the immune system fights. When our boundaries are violated, anger rises to protect us and move us toward safety.

Trust your anger. It is a demand for love.

- Natalie Diaz

At its essence, anger is love in motion. Not abuse or violence. Those are distortions of anger—outcomes of a culture that has weaponized it. True, healthy anger isn’t destructive. It’s clarity. It’s life-force energy flowing unrestrained, guiding us back to truth and integrity.

We live in a patriarchal society that has distorted this truth. Men have been conditioned to suppress most emotions, with anger being the one “acceptable” outlet. Too often, it has been expressed through violence, abuse, and domination. Because of this, many of us equate anger with harm. Yet violence is not anger—it is what happens when anger is twisted by oppression, shame, and power imbalances.

Healthy anger is something else entirely. It is sacred. Sacred rage is the fire that fuels clarity, courage, and transformation.

And this is precisely why systems of oppression have always pathologized the anger of the oppressed.

Women, especially women of color and those from marginalized communities, are ridiculed or demonized when they express anger. The stereotype of the “angry Black woman” is a prime example—her rage is mocked and minimized because it’s powerful. An angry woman will not tolerate abuse. An angry woman will not accept injustice. An angry woman will speak not only for herself, but for her community.

This is dangerous to oppressive systems, because feminine rage has always carried the potential to dismantle them. We saw this in the feminist movement, in abolitionist struggles, and in countless liberation movements across history. Angry women have always been at the forefront.

It’s time to reclaim this fire. To understand that our rage is not something to fear or suppress—it’s a spiritual force, a compass pointing us back toward truth, love, and justice.

Our rage is sacred. It is the deep knowing in our bones.

So be wary of any spiritual teachings that tell you to “rise above anger,” to “stay positive,” to “avoid low vibrations.” Ask yourself: Who benefits from your silence? Who profits from your disconnection from your fire?

Because when we reclaim our anger, we reclaim our power. And that reclamation is revolutionary.

If anger has felt dangerous, shameful, or out of reach, know that reconnecting to it doesn’t mean exploding or losing control. It begins with presence.

Notice the spark — The tightening in your chest, the heat in your belly, the clench in your jaw. These are the whispers of anger.

Give it expression — Let your body move it. Stomp your feet, shake your limbs, growl, or write it out raw and uncensored. Rage wants movement, not suppression.

Listen to its message — Beneath the fire is clarity. Ask: What boundary is being crossed? What truth is rising? What part of me longs to be protected?

Channel it with intention — Sacred rage doesn’t scorch everything in its path. It forges. It clears. It shows you what you will no longer tolerate and what you are ready to claim.

This isn’t about becoming consumed by anger, but about letting it take its rightful place in your body — as protector, truth-teller, and fierce guide back to yourself.

When we connect to our felt sense of anger, it becomes a private, intimate, and deeply rich experience.

It’s seldom wise to let our anger explode outward — toward others or in public. Instead, we can cultivate it within, allowing it to move us away from what is no longer in alignment and guide us toward our highest truth.

What is your relationship with anger? Have you, too, struggled to access your anger as a woman? I’d love to hear in the comments.

If you feel called to explore this deeper, my 1:1 sessions offer a safe container to meet your anger through somatic, body-based practices — not as catharsis, but as a way to cultivate and circulate life force energy for greater vitality and clarity.

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