For a long time, I tried to push the feeling of rage down, afraid of what might happen if I let it fully rise. At times it felt too big, too consuming—like a force I couldn’t control. When it did surface a bit, it wasn’t just anger; it was an emotional intensity that threatened to unravel me and those in my path.
I didn’t realize that my rage wasn’t just chaotic anger—it was communication, and it wasn’t there to destroy me; it was trying to get my attention.
All rage has a purpose, and two faces. The dark side—the one we all know—is defined by violent, uncontrollable anger, the kind that burns bridges, wounds relationships, and consumes everything in its path. That’s the side most of us have been taught to fear, to suppress, and to avoid at all costs.
But rage also has another side. It is the fire that refuses to let ourselves be diminished. It’s the force that rises when our worth is being questioned or dismissed. It is the part of us that remembers who we are when every other part of us has forgotten. Rage is not here to destroy—it is here to alert, to awaken, and demands our own attention.
The Sources of My Rage
I was ten years old when I finally got the courage to speak up about being sexually abused by a family member. My young voice cried for help to make it stop and for my parents to protect me from my abuser. After some time had passed, they believed it had ended. But it hadn’t.
The nightmare continued daily for another five years, unfolding in silence, as if my voice had never been heard at all.
Looking back, I think both of my parents believed that acknowledging it was enough. But it wasn’t. I was still trapped, left to navigate the pain and confusion on my own.
With each passing day, I had to find my own ways to escape, to survive, and to keep going. And in that survival, one thing became painfully clear: No one is coming to save me. I have to “just” get through it alone knowing that “one day”, it will finally come to an end.
During that time, my father’s need for control felt very overwhelming, especially when it came to me. It felt like every aspect of my life had to be tightly micro-managed, dictated by rules I didn’t understand, but had no choice but to follow.
Years later, before he passed away, I had the chance to talk to him about it, and I walked away realizing that his control wasn’t about power—it was his misguided attempt to keep me safe in the only way he knew how.
But that control came at a cost. It taught me that my emotions were inconvenient, that my feelings had to be swallowed to avoid conflict. I had to be happy to keep the peace. I had to smile and “be happy” to be accepted. I had to bury everything—pain, sadness, anger—so others could be comfortable.
On the days when the weight of it all was too much, when the reality of what I was enduring crept too close to the surface, I was met with a simple, suffocating directive: “Go to your room and don’t come out until you have a smile on your face.” These moments reinforced the internal belief I was unknowingly building—one that whispered, You don’t matter.
As I stepped into my adulthood, I would hear, “You are worthy just as you are.” I wanted to believe that message, I really did. But the words felt hollow, like they were meant for someone else. “That is NOT how this works”, I would think. “You don’t just get to exist and just automatically be worthy. You have to prove it. You have to earn it. You have to bring something to the table.” I had spent years being conditioned to believe that love, approval, and belonging came at a cost— the cost was me.
It never even occurred to me to question if worthiness was something I needed to prove in the first place.
Awakening to the Message of My Rage
The moment of reckoning came in a conversation with my transformational coach that shifted my world:
1. My rage is the part of me that knows my worth.
2. I was conditioned to believe that, “I exist to be used”.
This awareness changed everything.
When I slowed down and paid attention, it was clear that in moments of feeling rage it was never random, and it wasn’t a defect within me. It was a guide. It was telling me the truth I had long forgotten: “My worth is not something to be earned. It simply is.”
At first, I resisted the inner work by finding ways to distract myself, burying my emotions in busyness or numb out to ignore the discomfort. But the feeling of rage showed up in moments where my boundaries, my value, or my voice were being ignored—by others and, more importantly, by myself.
Listening to My Rage
When I finally took the time to really listen, this is what my rage had to say to me:
NOTE: This is an actual journal entry.
“I matter! I don’t need to be anything or do anything to be accepted, loved, and approved. I am all these things without activity. I am all of these things because I simply Am. I exist, and that is all that I must do or be. I am BEing in existence, and that is the “doing”, and that is all that is needed to be accepted, loved, and approved. That is my right when I came into this experience.”
Understanding My Rage
One of the most profound shifts was realizing that as I started truly listening to my rage, I no longer felt as though my worth was being diminished or dismissed. The same external circumstances that used to trigger deep wounds and reactions no longer had the same effect.
My rage had been screaming for my attention, not because the world was diminishing me, but because I formed the deep belief that it could. Once I recognized this, the weight began to lift. Nothing outside of me had the power to poke at that wound anymore because I had finally claimed my worth as mine—whole, untouchable, and non-negotiable. It became clear that I don’t owe anyone my worth.
Rage, for me, was never about destruction—though in the moment, it certainly felt that way. It was indeed a force, raw and untamed, but beneath the surface, it carried something much deeper.
My rage had a purposeful intention—to guide me back to my True-Self. The part of me that has always known my worth, my power, and my truth. The part of me that never needed permission or validation to fully exist, yet had been buried under years of conditioning and self-doubt.
I can say this for certain: This kind of knowing isn’t rooted in ego; it’s a deeper, unshakable truth. It is the quiet certainty that cannot be moved by external validation or rejection. It is not something to be proven or defended—it simply is.
Here’s how I integrated:
1. I Reframed My Rage – Instead of seeing it as something to fear or suppress, I got curious. I asked my rage, “What do you want to say? What do I need to hear?” I stopped treating it as an enemy or something to avoid, and I started seeing it as a part of me that needed to be heard.
2. I Traced the Root – I paid attention to what triggered the feeling of rage and uncovered the deep-seated beliefs beneath it—beliefs that told me I existed to be used. That I had to earn love, prove my worth, or put others first at my own expense. As I examined these patterns, a saying resonated deeply: “I will not set myself on fire to keep others warm.” That truth settled into me, reminding me that my worth was never meant to be a transaction or a negotiation.
3. I Consciously Chose – Instead of slipping back into old patterns of over-giving and self-abandonment, I‘ve taken on a practice where I pause and playfully remind myself, “Oh sweetie, we don’t do that anymore.” Then, I align with my Knowing-Self and ask, What is the aligned action? And from that place I choose—aligning my choices with my sovereign worth.
Insightful Tip: Sovereign Worth is the unshakable, undeniable truth that your value is not up for negotiation, validation, or permission. It is the energy of self-ownership, where you no longer bargain, explain, or justify your worth to anyone—including yourself.
An Invitation to Listen to Your Own Rage
If the feeling of rage is showing up in your life, I invite you to pause and really listen. Your rage has a purpose too. Perhaps yours is also here to show you where your boundaries are being ignored, where your worth is being questioned, and where you are not living in full alignment with your Knowing-Self.
Instead of suppressing it, ask it, “What do you have to say?” or “What do you need me to hear?”.
Your rage is not here to harm you or those around you—it’s not about revenge or destruction. Rage has a deeper purpose. It rises within us to protect, to reveal, to reclaim. It is the fire that wants to burn away the lies we’ve been told about our worth.
On the other side of rage is clarity, power, and the deep knowing of who you truly are.
If you’re ready to transform your relationship with rage and uncover the wisdom it holds, I invite you to take the first step. You don’t have to navigate this alone. Together, we can explore what your rage is trying to tell you, shift the patterns keeping you stuck, and reconnect you with your Knowing-Self. Reach out—I’d love to guide you on this journey.