Righteous Anger

Righteous anger is intoxicating. It surges through us, hot and clean, filling every empty space where doubt or sadness might have lived just moments before. It makes us feel powerful, certain. And in the moment, it feels good. Not just good, delicious. We are above it all. Untouchable. Finally, we are the one who sees things clearly, who holds the truth. The righteousness sharpens our edges, hardens our stance, and for a moment, we are weightless, untethered from uncertainty.

But what is that power really? And what does it cost us?

When we are hurt in a relationship (when we feel unseen, dismissed, betrayed) the pain of it is overwhelming. It is raw and vulnerable. And vulnerability is dangerous, especially when the person we long to turn to is the same one who has hurt us. So we armor up. The sadness, the grief, the longing all harden into something stronger: anger. But not just any anger, righteous anger. The kind that lifts us above the other person, that turns them into the wrongdoer and us into the one who finally sees clearly. We are no longer the one who was hurt; we are the one delivering judgment.

In this moment, anger becomes an equalizer. If we have felt small, now we feel big. If we have felt powerless, now we have the upper hand. If we have felt ignored, now we are undeniable. This shift is electrifying. And for a brief moment, it feels like justice. But what it really is, is certainty.

Certainty is comforting. It rescues us from the messiness of grief, the complexity of conflict, the terrifying possibility that maybe we weren’t entirely blameless. It takes away the burden of sitting with our own emotions: ones that might contradict each other, ones that might make us question our own actions. Instead, it gives us something clean and simple: I am right. You are wrong.

But here’s where it gets tricky: righteous anger often convinces us that we are moving toward resolution when we are actually digging in deeper. It creates a simple binary: I am good, you are bad. And that simplicity is soothing, because it removes all the murky, painful in-betweens: the grief of lost connection, the fear of uncertainty, the sadness of not knowing how to bridge the gap.

This is where we start to offend from the victim position. We feel wronged, so we strike. We deliver our accusations, we expose their failures, we take the moral high ground. And in doing so, we become exactly what we were hurt by. We justify the cutting remark, the coldness, the punishment because, after all, we were the ones who were hurt first. And maybe we’re right. Maybe we do have every reason to be furious. But does that fury take us anywhere we actually want to go? And when the fire dies down, when the righteousness fades, what are we left with? The same pain. The same disconnection. And maybe even regret.

This cycle is deeply tied to attachment, the way we seek safety and connection with the people who matter most. When we are hurt, our instinct is to protect ourselves. Some of us do it by reaching, demanding, pushing for acknowledgment. Others do it by retreating, shutting down, disappearing into silence. But when we step into righteous anger, we aren’t reaching or retreating anymore, we’re fighting. And when both people feel wronged, both feel justified in hurting back. Each believes they are defending themselves. Each sees the other as the aggressor. And in the end, no one wins.

So what’s the alternative? This isn’t about dismissing anger. Anger is often necessary. It tells us when something isn’t right. It signals when a boundary has been crossed. But when anger transforms into righteousness, when it becomes about power rather than repair, it keeps us stuck. The hardest thing to do in these moments is the very thing that anger tries to block: allowing space for the deeper emotions underneath. The sadness, the longing, the need for reassurance. These feelings are harder to sit with, but they are the ones that lead us toward understanding, toward something real. Toward clarity. Toward actual repair, not just temporary power.

The real question is: do we want to be right, or do we want to be close? Because righteous anger may give us certainty, but certainty is not the same as truth. And in the end, connection, not power, is what actually heals.

Are you interested in working on your personal development? Are you looking for a life coach or a life consultant? Are you feeling stagnant? Do you want to jumpstart change?

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*Awareness is knowing what you genuinely want and need.

*Alignment is the symmetry between our values and our actions. It means our inner and outer worlds match.

*Action is when you are conscious that what you say, do and think are in harmony with your values.

Together we build an understanding of what you want to accomplish, and delve deeply into building awareness around any thoughts and assumptions that you may already have. To truly transform your life, I will empower you to rethink what’s possible for you.

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