Don’t you dare let people tell you not to be angry.

Especially not the ones floating a foot off the ground, clinging to their “higher vibrations” like a life raft while the world burns. I’m talking about the bypassers, the platitudineers, the “everything happens for a reason” crew who treat injustice like a scheduling error in the Universe.

Anger is not your lower self. It’s not a sign you’re unenlightened, unhealed, or “still learning your soul lessons.” That’s spiritual gaslighting dressed in mala beads and yoga pants.

Anger is holy.

Anger is information.

Anger is empathy with its boots on.

When you see someone harmed, when your boundaries are bulldozed, when injustice sits fat and smug on its throne, your anger is proof that your spirit is awake. That your soul gives a damn. It means the divine spark in you is alive enough to notice and care.

Do you really think the prophets stayed chill? That Jesus overturned tables with a serene smile? That Martin Luther King, Jr. didn’t rage in private? Anger is not the enemy of peace. Complacency is.

We’ve been sold the lie that anger is dangerous. That it’s something to transcend. Bullshit. Suppressed anger doesn’t go away—it metastasizes. It becomes depression. Disconnection. Apathy. Addiction. When we’re told to “just let it go” or “focus on the positive,” we’re not being asked to heal—we’re being asked to shut up.

But anger is a call for action; a call for voice.

It says, “This matters.”

It says, “Not here. Not on my watch.”

It says, “Something is worth fighting for.”

The work isn’t to deny your anger. The work is to stay awake inside it. To not let it harden into hatred or self-righteousness—but to let it guide you toward what needs to be protected, healed, or torn down.

Anger is sacred fuel. Use it wisely. But don’t you dare throw it away.