Kali, Sekhmet and the Healing Power of Anger

 

Years ago, during my year-long tantra training, we did an exercise centred around Kali, the Hindu goddess who symbolises anger, destruction and rebirth. 

The women around me screamed. Swore. Hit cushions.

I completely shut down. I tried to feel my anger.

Nothing.

No fire. No strength. No primal scream. No rage.

Just... emptiness.

Looking back, I understand much better what was happening.

All the shouting and noise completely overwhelmed my nervous system. As a child, I grew up in an environment where people shouted a lot. Where anger felt dangerous. Anger meant rejection. Violence. Losing connection. Guilt. Shame. Perhaps, without even realising it, I had made a decision: If this is what anger looks like—shouting, humiliating people and making them afraid—then I never want to become like that.

For a long time, I believed anger was the opposite of love.

So my body did exactly what it had learned to do.

It protected me. I dissociated. I disappeared from my body.

After the exercise, I walked over to the teacher.

"I just don't have it," I said. "That anger."

She smiled kindly. "Perhaps... You're simply more of a Lakshmi."

😂😂😂

Now, years later...

I can hardly believe I ever said that.

Me?

No anger?

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

What I didn't yet understand was how complicated the relationship between trauma and anger really is. Many people—especially women—believe they don't have anger. When in reality... it's frozen. Or transformed into depression. Perfectionism. People-pleasing. Control. Or sadness.

From an early age, many girls are taught to be kind. Helpful. Caring. But certainly not angry. Or "difficult."

The problem is that when you lose touch with your healthy anger—and with the instinctive feeling that tells you this is not okay—the world can start to feel like a much less safe place. Perhaps not always physically dangerous... but sooner or later, there's a good chance you'll become ill. Or wake up one day wondering: 

"Is this really all life has to offer?"

Because when you keep giving without boundaries... you will always come last. And your work, your relationships and your life will reflect very little of what truly brings you joy. Perhaps awakening your inner Kali is one of the most important steps towards healing.

Not as a goddess.

But as an archetype. Within you.

The more I learned about Kali, the less I saw her as a destroyer. In artwork, she looks terrifying, but beneath her fierce appearance lives a profound love. She doesn't destroy people. She destroys what keeps us imprisoned.

Illusions. Old patterns. Everything that no longer serves us.

Through breathwork, I slowly came into contact with the deeper frozen layers within myself. Including my anger. And then something entirely new happened. For the first time, I experienced what I can only describe as Sacred Rage. Not destructive. But ancient. As though my body was finally saying: "This far. No further."

When the public debate in the Netherlands intensified after the murder of a young girl named Lisa in 2025, all the anger I had suppressed for so many years rose to the surface. To be completely honest... part of me wanted to throw everything that had ever been done to me back into the world. Thankfully, by then I understood that this energy didn't need to be acted out. It simply needed to be felt. So I turned on the music. I stomped. Hit cushions. Danced. Moved.

A few months later, after reading The Return of the Temple Priestess by Michelle Shanti, I became fascinated by the Egyptian goddesses. That fascination eventually brought me to Egypt. In Luxor, at the Karnak Temple Complex, I found myself standing face to face with Sekhmet, the Egyptian lioness goddess. She, too, is often portrayed as destructive. But when I stood before her... I felt only one movement. And one word. "Mama." I had to sit on her lap.

Where Kali has become the protector of my boundaries... Sekhmet became my fierce motherly protector. The lioness protecting her cub. 

"You may come for me... but not for her."

At that moment, I understood why I didn't meet a destroyer in Sekhmet. I met a mother. Not one who kept me small or who wanted to attack. But one who whispered:

"Come here. I'll keep watch."

Ooooooooooooooooooooooh... I am so incredibly grateful that I finally found my way back to my anger!

That immense... primal force of Love.

Only after reconnecting with my inner protector did my softness dare to return.

That was perhaps the greatest surprise of all. I was afraid anger would make me harder. The opposite happened.

I became softer.

Freer.

More creative.

More playful.

As though my inner child finally knew: Someone is watching over me now. I don't have to do this alone anymore.

Healthy anger may be one of the most loving emotions we possess. Not because it wants to destroy, but because it wants to protect.

It wants to roar... for Love.

Sometimes anger isn't gone at all.

Sometimes it's simply waiting until your body finally feels safe enough to let it emerge.

❤️

Reflection

If your anger wasn't against someone, but for you... what would it want to tell you today?