The Sovereign Drop 004 - On Libido

Most of you reading this aren’t the raging-out-loud types.

You’re composed.
Measured.
Disciplined.
You take the high road.
You keep it together.

You’re the steady one.

But every now and then… something flashes through you.
And it scares you.

Not because you’re reckless —
but because you know what you’re capable of if that part of you ever gets off the leash.

So you keep it locked up.
Hidden.
Contained.
Buttoned down.

Safer for everyone… right?

Maybe.

Here’s what I want to suggest — gently, but clearly:

Instead of fearing your anger,
get curious about it.

Not indulging it.
Not feeding it.
Not justifying it.

Understanding it.

Anger is rarely the problem.
Anger is a signal — an indicator.

Something in you feels:
crossed
silenced
cornered
unseen
disrespected
betrayed
or powerless.

If your anger is signaling louder than the situation calls for,
that’s something old, unsorted, and still bleeding energy through your system.

Most men don’t repress anger because they’re noble —
they repress it because they’re terrified of what they might do with it.

So it leaks sideways.

Not rage —
but irritability.
Withdrawn silence.
Sarcasm with an edge.
A hardness the moment doesn’t deserve.
A tighter grip on control than the room requires.

And sometimes it morphs into something more socially acceptable — sadness or exhaustion — because sadness draws people toward you, while anger pushes them away.

So you swallow it.
And turn it into something safer.

But swallowed anger doesn’t go away.
(Even when it changes form.)

It ferments.

And then — when stress rises — you don’t fully trust yourself.
Because you know what’s buried inside.

Which means the world loses access to the righteous, protective edge of your anger —
the part of you that should burn hot when something sacred is threatened.

Let me be clear:

There is a form of masculine anger that is righteous.
Holy.
Protective.
Uncorrupted.
Necessary.

The anger that stands between danger and the people you love.
The anger that says, “Not here. Not them. Not on my watch.”

That anger is not the problem.

Unexamined anger is.

The kind you shove in the basement because you’re afraid of it —
then hope the lock holds forever.

But you can’t fight a war with one hand on your sword
and the other hand gripping the basement door to keep the beast trapped.

At some point, it will break loose —
and neither of you will know what to do with each other.

So here’s the reframe:

Anger doesn’t have to land on someone
to move through you.

Run.
Box.
Lift.
Pray.
Write.
Yell into the wind on a mountaintop.
Sit alone and ask it what it’s trying to tell you.

Anger only exists in you when something in you believes,
“This matters.”

Learn what that thing is.

Question

When anger shows up in you —
what is it trying to protect?

Integration

This week, when you feel the spike — observe.

• Pause. Don’t react.
• Name the feeling honestly.
• Ask: What just got threatened or violated in me?
• Ask: Is this about the moment — or something older?

Then — give the anger somewhere safe to go:

Move your body.
Breathe hard. (Exhale with force.)
Write until you hit truth.
Pray like you mean it.

And after it moves through?

Decide — calmly — what strength looks like now.

You are always responsible for your actions.
You are not required to pretend you don’t feel.

Mastery is integration, not suppression.

Benediction

Your anger is not your enemy.
Unexamined anger is.

Let it speak —
without letting it drive.