Many of us grew up believing that it is bad to be angry. Anger is often seen as a sign of weak character or poor upbringing. When we flare up, we are told to “stay calm,” “count to 10,” or “breathe deeply,” as if these could dissolve the irritation and hurt caused by life’s provocations. It is about time we discarded that notion. We should not always feel guilty when we are angry, because anger can be love in disguise.

The next time you get mad at someone, don’t ask yourself, “Why do I feel this way? Am I overreacting?” Instead, ask, “What is it that I love so deeply that this person is threatening or destroying?”

Consider this: You rarely get angry over things you do not value. You are not hurt when a stranger ignores you. But if your best friend or spouse forgets your birthday, their neglect can feel like a knife to the heart. Your fists clench, your pulse quickens, and your mind races with ways to make them feel your pain. You expect more from those who matter to you.

Anger is an emotional alarm bell that rings when something we value, like a relationship, a belief, a principle, our dignity, or a loved one, is endangered or violated. Suppressing anger does not necessarily make us virtuous. It can even make us indifferent and incapable of loving deeply.

Today’s Gospel reading illustrates this vividly. Jesus furiously drove out the merchants and money changers who had turned the Temple into a marketplace: “He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and spilled the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables” (John 2:15). His anger was not born of hatred, but of profound love and reverence for the Temple, a sacred space dedicated to God’s worship.

Viewed this way, when protesters angrily take to the streets to denounce corruption, they are expressing their love for fairness, decency, and integrity in public service. Their passionate chants and slogans reflect their yearning for justice and their desire to protect what they cherish. Without a modicum of anger, their love for these values might remain passive and powerless.

That said, a recent Gallup survey on Anger & Agency reveals that the Philippines is the second angriest country in Southeast Asia. We seem to be growing accustomed to anger. We are angry at nearly everything and everyone: floods and calamities, traffic chaos, uncollected garbage, pollution, soaring prices, rampant corruption, criminals who roam free, a faltering economy, and the rising tide of unrest and violence.

It is all right to be angry about these things. Yet, prolonged anger is exhausting. It drains our energy, and if sustained for too long, can sap our strength entirely. Perhaps this is why there are so few creative and beneficial activities within and around us. We expend enormous energy fretting over things beyond our control, while neglecting the ones we can actually change. When anger becomes all-consuming, it festers into hatred and the wicked desire to get even.

Prolonged anger is like running a marathon powered only by resentment. It can make even the most reasonable person narrow-minded, convinced of their own righteousness and the wickedness of those they are mad at. The rise of trolls and paid hacks on social media is a symptom of this.

Anger, at its core, is love in disguise. It mirrors our passion for justice, our care for others, and our desire to protect what we hold dear. Anger has its rightful place. To be angry at the right moment, for the right reason, and in the right measure is an act of courage and concern. But like any virtue carried to excess, unrestrained and habitual anger can inflict more harm than the wrongs that provoked it.