Righteous Rage:11/24

From the journal November 2024:

Do not let anyone try to dismiss the rage you feel today. This is righteous rage. Anger was made for such a time as this. I sit here at my desk, surrounded by the clutter of my thoughts, and I can feel the fire surging within me—a raw, unfiltered anger that demands to be acknowledged. Right now, I refuse to suppress it or disguise it with the saccharine glaze of toxic positivity. The world outside my window churns with chaos, and I wonder how it is that we are expected to remain calm, to wear smiles in the face of such injustice. It is in these moments that I hear the whispers of conformity, urging me to soften my edges, to smooth the jagged lines of my fury into something more palatable. But today, I will not bend to that pressure. My rage is valid, and I will let it breathe so it doesn’t choke me.

There is a certain beauty in anger, a fierce vitality that courses through my veins like molten lava. It tells me that I am alive, that I am aware of the world’s injustices, of the indignities we endure as women, of the indignities BIPOC women have endure for centuries. What we must endure as artists, what we must endure as creators, as human beings. We navigate a landscape littered with expectations and limitations, and to feel anger is to recognize that we deserve better. We are not meant to be silent shadows in the corners of our own lives.

I think of the countless women who have come before me(and let’s not forget it was Black women who started the Reproductive Justice movement) , who have screamed into the void, their voices rising like flames against the dark. They felt this same righteous anger, this insatiable need to break free from the constraints that sought to bind them. I feel their spirits coursing through me, urging me to embrace my own fury, to wield it as a weapon against complacency.

Let it breathe, I remind myself. Let it unfurl like the petals of a fierce flower, blooming defiantly in the midst of a storm. To suppress this anger would be to betray the very essence of who I am—a woman with thoughts, dreams, and a voice that demands to be heard.

Today, I will write with the fervor of my rage. I will pour it onto the page, allowing it to spill forth unapologetically. I will not shy away from the darkness that surrounds me; instead, I will confront it head-on, armed with the knowledge that my anger is a catalyst for change. It is the spark that ignites the fire of transformation, and I will fan those flames until they illuminate not only the shadows but, the way forward.

I am embracing the rage that swells within me. I will not let anyone tell me to calm down or to soften my words. My voice is powerful, and it deserves to be unleashed. I can only speak for myself but I support those who feel voiceless, I support the women who have been silenced, I will feel rage for the dreams that have been stifled.

In this moment, I reclaim my anger as a part of my identity, a vital force that propels me forward. I will let it breathe, let it sing, let it rage against the injustice of it all. Because anger, when channeled, can be a powerful ally—a fierce reminder that we will not be consumed by the darkness, but rather, we will rise, resilient and unyielding.

With fiery determination…