Tag: wisdom
-
8 Signs You’re Carrying Deep Shame and How to Start to Heal
“If you put shame in a petri dish, it needs three ingredients to grow exponentially: secrecy, silence, and judgment. If you put the same amount of shame in the petri dish and douse it with empathy, it can’t survive.” ~Brené Brown
Did you know that one of the biggest causes of suffering is unacknowledged shame? It makes us believe that there’s something wrong with us and we’re not good enough.
When we have deep shame inside, instead of being true to ourselves, we “dress to impress” so others will like us, which eventually makes us tired, depressed, and anxious because we’ve become disconnected from our true essence.
Having shame isn’t the issue; the real issue is resisting or trying to cover it up. The more we try to keep shame hidden, the more we live in limitation and self-protection and experience stress in our system.
We may experience self-hate and a constant critical inner voice. Those parts of us don’t want to be suppressed, forced to change, or told they’re bad or wrong; they want to be seen, heard, and embraced in unconditional acceptance and love.
Many of us try to hide our shame because we don’t want to feel that deep pain. And if people look at us in a weird way, criticize, judge, or leave us, then what? We’ll be all alone. Well, that may not be true, but that’s what we may have experienced in the past, and we fear it happening again.
We may want a new relationship and to be intimate, but a part of us may push it away because we’re afraid that they’ll see that we’re not perfect human beings and leave. Then that would re-affirm the false belief that we’re unlovable or unworthy.
We may want to share our creativity and/or express ourselves in some way, but we’ve been shamed for doing so in the past, so we stop ourselves because we don’t want to be hurt again.
We may want to do inner healing, but if we do, we’ll get in touch with the parts of us that are hurting, and feeling those feelings may seem overwhelming because we’re used to suppressing them and they’re attached to past pains or traumas.
Some of us were shamed for making a mistake in the past, even though making mistakes is part of learning. When we fear making mistakes, we tend to self-sabotage or procrastinate.
Sometimes we use food, drugs, alcohol, or being busy to try to numb and get away from our painful and shameful feelings.
Sometimes shame manifests as chronic fatigue, self-criticism, depression, low self-esteem or painful sensations in our body. We may feel self-conscious, anxious, and insecure and have a hard time speaking up or receiving gifts and compliments because we don’t feel worthy of them.
So what is shame really? It makes us believe that we’re bad, wrong, unlovable, or unworthy. Those ideas stem from not meeting other people’s expectations of how we should be, or from experiences that made us feel embarrassed.
Because we didn’t know how to cope with or process our feelings at the time, we developed a negative lens through which we now see ourselves and others that dictates what we do and don’t do.
If we were shamed for or felt shame about something as children, we usually try to find a way to compensate for it as adults. What do I mean?
As a child, I was teased for being fat and ugly, and I blamed my body for me not having any friends and for my father criticizing and teasing me.
At age thirteen, my doctor told me to go on a diet. When I lost weight I received compliments and recognition; however, I took it to the extreme, and at age fifteen I became a severe anorexic. No matter how many therapists or treatment centers I went to (which were numerous), I wouldn’t let go of the disordered eating behaviors that I thought kept me safe.
I developed survival strategies, exercising non-stop and eating very little, so I would never be fat and teased again. However, as much as I tried to protect myself from the shame of being fat, I was now being shamed for how and what I ate and what my body looked like.
My father told me he was embarrassed to be seen with me, and I was made fun of, criticized, and judged from people on the street, the therapists I was seeing, and the those in charge in the treatment centers I was in.
So, in a sense, I was being shamed for trying to cope, feel safe, and survive.
At age fifteen I became obsessed with money to try to compensate for the powerless, shameful feelings I was having.
Money gave me a fleeting, false sense of power and worthiness. If I wasn’t working and earning money, I felt like a horrible person.
I was trying to hide my deep shame and feel worthy, valuable, lovable, and safe by controlling my food and weight and how much money I made and saved, but none of that ever made me truly feel okay or healed my deep pain and shame. Deep inside, I was still experiencing depression, anxiety, a critical voice, and self-hate, and I was acting in self-harming and self-depriving ways.
When people used to say to me, “Debra, you just need to love yourself,” I thought, “Yeah right, what does that even mean? I don’t deserve to be loved and cared for. I’m bad. I deserve to suffer, to be punished, criticized, and deprived, and to struggle in life.”
This is what unresolved shame does. It creates a shame-based identity. It runs our subconscious programming, disconnects us from our authenticity, and makes us believe that there’s something wrong with us—that we’re unworthy, unlovable, and not good enough.
We don’t stop loving the ones who shamed and hurt us; we stop loving ourselves, and we start treating ourselves in the same ways they did. The external rejection becomes our own internal rejection.
It may be helpful to understand that people who blame, shame, or criticize us are also hurting and have deep wounds that make them feel as if they’re bad, unworthy, and unlovable. Their inner child is saying, “Please love me” just like ours is.
When we feel a sense of shame, most often our attention is focused on fixing ourselves to fit into the standards of the world so we can be loved and accepted. By doing so, we often deny how we’re truly feeling and instead look for the “right things” to say and do, which keeps us from living our truth.
Instead of fixing ourselves to cover up how we’re truly feeling, we need to take the time to understand why we’re feeling, thinking, and acting how we do, which may be coming from past traumas, hurts, and wounds.
If we keep our shame hidden, we may feel stuck inside, which makes us feel stuck in our lives because our minds and bodies continue to react automatically from the past painful and unresolved experiences.
Not sure if you’re carrying deep shame? How much of this is true for you?
- You’re unable to find inner peace. Deep inside you don’t feel good enough, like there’s something’s wrong with you.
- You need to be loved and approved of by others in order to love and approve of yourself.
- You feel insecure and unworthy and constantly compare yourself to others.
- You see yourself and others through the lens of past painful experiences.
- You’re afraid to try new things, share your creativity, share how you’re truly feeling, or ask for what you want and need because you don’t feel worthy, or you’re afraid of feeling embarrassed or shamed.
- You mold yourself to try to fit in with what everyone else is doing instead of following what has true, heartfelt meaning for you.
- You often feel anxious and afraid, and you have a constant critical inner voice.
- You try to achieve as a way to prove that you’re worthy, valuable, and lovable.
Since being shamed makes us want to hide those parts of ourselves that were unacceptable, healing happens when we bring those parts into the light of awareness and embrace them with unconditional acceptance and love.
Healing starts to happen when we recognize and break free from the trance we’re living in. We do this by going to the root cause(s) of the shame and resolving that unresolved pain with compassion, love, and a new understanding.
Healing starts to happen when we learn how to be more compassionate with ourselves and instead of saying “Why can’t I just…?” We ask ourselves “What keeps me from…? How can I help that part feel seen, heard, understood, and loved?”
Healing starts to happen when we begin to uncover, discover, and embrace our natural qualities, talents, and abilities and allow those parts of us to be felt and seen.
Healing starts to happen when we learn how to speak to and treat ourselves in more kind, compassionate, and loving ways, and also believe that we’re worth it.
Please remember that healing is a process. Our system is conditioned to be a certain way, and our minds and bodies love to stay with what’s familiar. Working with our tender, hurting parts with love and compassion can help us break out of the trance of past hurt and wounds and experience what true love and inner peace really means.
So, instead of trying to get rid of the shame or cover it up, embrace the parts you’re ashamed of with unconditional acceptance and love. Let yourself and your inner child know that you are beautiful, valuable, and lovable as you are, even with your wounds and scars.
-
When You’re Terrified of Conflict: Why True Intimacy Means Speaking Up
“Conflict avoidance is not the hallmark of a good relationship. On the contrary, it is a symptom of serious problems and of poor communication.” ~Harriet B. Braiker
I walk on eggshells in my relationship. I have for the past ten years.
I try to design everything out of my mouth to lead to the least amount of friction between my wife and me. And you know what? It’s hurting our relationship.
You see, I’m afraid of confrontation. For me, confrontation leads to tension and tension can lead to stress and angst.
When I was a kid, tension, stress, and angst equaled punishment from my father, which usually came in the form of yelling and verbal abuse. As such, I learned to walk on eggshells around my dad.
It was a defense mechanism. A way to survive my crazy, chaotic childhood.
Unfortunately, I took this learned behavior out in the world as an adult and perfected it. I tip-toed around people out of fear of someone getting defensive or upset with me. It was exhausting, but in my mind, better than the alternative.
With my wife, this behavior started innocently at first. For example, if she made a meal that I didn’t particularly like, I wouldn’t tell her the truth out of fear of her getting hurt or defensive about it.
In my mind, if I was honest with her, she would get upset, and that was something I wasn’t willing to let happen. This seemingly innocent way of interacting led to the deeper core issue in our relationship—not being truthful with how I was really feeling.
Instead, when I sensed that my wife was getting upset about something, I often shut down emotionally and hid. I was afraid of being my authentic self because I was certain it would lead to conflict, and conflict in my experience, like I said, leads to pain.
As a child, whenever my dad and someone he was dating had a disagreement or a fight, the relationship would come to an end. Always.
When one person would leave, another would show up and stay until there was a big fight. Then she would leave and another would be right around the corner and so on. This was the blueprint I witnessed as a child.
Conflict = pain = endings
He modeled a behavior for me, a way of being if you will, that I swore to avoid at all costs. Hence shutting down and emotionally hiding around my wife. I didn’t want a big blow up that ended our relationship.
But here’s the thing, disagreements and conflict are a part of life. They happen over politics, money, and parenting.
They happen in the workplace, over religion, and in schools. Disagreement and conflict are everywhere, and yes, they even happen in romantic relationships.
But for those of us with any sort of childhood trauma, we hear a disagreement as a fight. And fights can lead to endings, which is something most of us don’t want.
That’s why I designed everything out of my mouth to lead to the least amount of disagreement with my wife. I didn’t want things to end. Little did I know, I was actually hurting things more than helping them.
When we walk on eggshells in our relationships, we leak without knowing it. Leak meaning our insecurities and fears come out, and they can trigger the other person and give them reason to resent us.
It’s counterintuitive. There’s no authenticity in it. There’s no connection or vulnerability.
Intimacy, erroneously for many of us, is only viewed as closeness and feeling good, but that’s not accurate. Intimacy is also discomfort and disagreement and for people to be able to navigate that.
Being intimate is sharing our reality and accepting the reality of another. When we walk on eggshells, we are not being intimate.
Unfortunately, this realization is too little too late for me. My wife and I got recently divorced, and according to her this is one of the biggest reasons why. It’s sad and painful but something I felt necessary to share with you in the off chance of it helping someone else.
The moral of the story? Bring to the relationship what you want your partner to bring to the relationship. Rise above your discomfort and be intimate.
In tough moments I sometimes turn into a little child who doesn’t know how to articulate things, so I shut down and hide instead. But like I said, that’s not intimacy.
Everyone is going to disagree or be disappointed in us at some point in time because they are human. Our work is to be aware that others being disappointed with us does not equate to being in harm’s way.
Knowing this is the difference between being a functional adult and being in our childhood trauma. It’s the difference between healthy adult pain and the wounded child pain.
This is where my work is right now. Choosing intimacy and aliveness over people-pleasing and perceived safety. Slowing down in the moment and reminding myself that it’s okay to be scared and, even more so, to express it. The adaptive behavior of closing up and protecting myself doesn’t serve me anymore.
I imagine there’s an immense freedom that comes with not being afraid of expressing or showing oneself to others. Moving forward, that’s my path (to the best of my ability, of course). Care to join me?
-
How I Freed Myself from Anger by Owning it Instead of Blaming Others
“The opposite of anger is not calmness. It’s empathy.” ~Mehmet Oz
In December last year, I went to India to study yoga and meditation. About a week into my training, I noticed I was becoming increasingly angry.
I thought that coming to this peaceful and supportive place would be all about gentle healing while perfecting my yoga practice. Instead, I was furious, very negative, and frustrated with everything.
Eventually, I talked to my teachers and shared what I was going through since I was becoming worried. They explained that since the training was intense and we were doing lots of activities to purify the mind and body, any stuck energy within would want to be released. This cleansing process could manifest in unwanted negativity, fatigue, emotional imbalances, and more.
Although it comforted me, I had no idea what to do with this anger and how to deal with it. So I asked myself: “What am I thinking when feeling angry?”
The answer was quite straightforward—other people.
Since I removed myself from everything and everyone I knew and was familiar with, there was a sense of silence around me. This allowed my anger to become extremely loud.
My initial thoughts were about everyone who didn’t support my decision to go to India, at least not at first. I replayed all the scenarios when people tried to change my mind or tell me I should do something else.
A few days later, older situations began to come up. Things that happened six months ago, when someone said something that hurt me, and I stayed silent. Or when people told me I couldn’t do something, and I believed them.
After two weeks of this internal rage, I thought my head was about to explode, then one day, it felt as if it did. I woke up with an extreme fever and sinus infection that hurt my face. I was crying all day and couldn’t even attend classes. Eventually, I ended up in the emergency room.
I remember meeting an Ayurvedic doctor with orange hair and a gentle smile. He gave me some ayurvedic medicine and said I would feel 100% in four days. I couldn’t see how that could happen, but I felt too weak and mentally defeated to protest, so I took the medicine.
I spent the first two days in bed with a high fever and almost zero energy to even move. On the third day, the fever was gone, and I could eat. On the fourth day, I felt energized and ready to continue my studies.
The most amazing feeling was the lightness I felt after I got healthy. My anger radically decreased, and I was more patient and happier.
This state of peace and joy prompted me to look at what had happened to me. First, I knew that my sickness manifested because of accumulated negative energy seeking its way out. Frankly, I was grateful that I was able to release it.
However, the anger still dominated my days. At first, I began looking at everyone who I believed had wronged me in any way. I tried to forgive them and rationalize their behavior while developing the understanding that everyone acts from their level of perception. Although I could ease the feeling of anger, it was still very present in my life, and I felt it every day.
Then one day, as I was sitting in meditation, a profound realization came to mind. I couldn’t let go of the anger because I wasn’t angry with others but myself.
Since I’d allowed things that I didn’t like and never spoke up about them, deep down, I knew I was betraying myself. However, my need for validation and inclusion was stronger than my desire to stand up for myself.
Since taking responsibility for enabling such behaviors was confronting, I turned my anger toward others and blamed them.
Although this realization was uncomfortable, it gave me a sense of strength. Realizing that my power was in self-responsibility made me feel empowered.
Over the next few days, I battled with myself, feeling like a victim at times and, at the same time, refocusing on my new epiphany.
Here is how I decided to proceed and begin letting go of my anger once this emotional turmoil slightly settled and I could think clearly.
1. I focused on where my power was.
Since I had a habit of feeling like a victim, taking responsibility for what I tolerated was new, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable. Therefore, I often slipped into victimhood.
Once I observed it, I refocused and reminded myself how amazing and freeing it was to live from a place of responsibility. Eventually, I felt less like a victim and more like a healthy individual who could make her choices.
The most common reason why we shy away from taking responsibility for our thoughts and emotions is because we think it means letting people off the hook. We want them to realize how they wronged us. We want them to validate our feelings, and we believe it will happen if we just stay angry long enough.
Ironically, we are the ones who suffer. The word responsibility is derived from the word response. And that, we can choose. In the same way, we can choose to set boundaries while defining what we tolerate and being responsible for ourselves.
After a few weeks of this mental ping pong, I knew there was a component I was missing.
2. I decided to forgive myself.
There was no way I could go through this process without forgiveness since I judged myself profoundly for what I had allowed.
Self-forgiveness was the hardest step. Although I practiced self-forgiveness in the past and was quite familiar with it, forgiving myself for sabotaging my mental and emotional health was a hard pill to swallow.
Every time I closed my eyes and began speaking my forgiveness affirmations, I started crying. I realized that I didn’t believe I deserved forgiveness—a belief that stemmed from my traumatic childhood—so I decided to incorporate inner child work into this practice.
I created a vision of my adult and younger self meeting on a bench. Every time we met, I would ask her to forgive me for letting her down and hurting her so much.
After one week of this conscious practice, my heart began to soften, and I could look at myself with more compassion and empathy instead of harsh criticism.
This created a huge shift within my healing since I realized a fundamental truth when healing anything in our lives. In order to let go of anger, guilt, shame, judgment, or any other negativity we feed, we must go on the other side of the spectrum and embrace emotions of care, nurturing, understanding, and empathy.
Inner child work, practicing self-forgiveness, or loving-kindness meditations are only a fraction of what we can do to ease into our healing.
As I was preparing for my return home, I knew there was one more thing I had to put in place to make this process lasting and successful.
3. I chose my non-negotiables.
It was time to boundary up and decide what I would tolerate going forward. I remember feeling so scared and uncertain. It wasn’t the boundary itself that scared me as much as the reactions from people who weren’t used to them.
At first, I felt like a toddler taking their first step. I went back and forth, contemplating whether my boundary was good or bad, right or wrong, and whether I really needed to put it in place. Then I realized something—there is no right or wrong when it comes to our boundaries. We set them, and that’s it. They are our non-negotiables, and they are not up for debate.
The moment we begin setting boundaries, we act with respect toward ourselves. We are sending a message to our brain saying, “I love and value myself enough to honor what feels right and let go of what isn’t.” We are also ready to build relationships with a strong foundation underneath.
It’s important to acknowledge the fear that comes from setting boundaries. Do we fear the loss of people? Are we worried that we won’t be validated or that others will get upset with us?
Although these concerns are valid, and we all battle them, it’s important to remind ourselves of the cost of self-sabotage and self-betrayal. This way of life isn’t sustainable or healthy, and eventually, it will bring us back to facing the same challenges.
It has been a few months since I made changes within my relationships and how I navigate them. Although some of them radically changed, I was able to work through my anger and let go of lots of negativity in my life.
I still fall into my victimhood and try to let myself off the hook. However, I am now better at recognizing it while understanding the privilege I hold to be responsible for my life, and how empowering it feels when I act on it.
-
How I Reclaimed My Introversion as a Superpower Instead of Feeling Inadequate
“We are each gifted in a unique and important way. It is our privilege and our adventure to discover our own special light.” ~Mary Dunbar
“I don’t want to sit by Teresa. She doesn’t talk.”
Ouch.
I was ten years old and at a fundraising dinner for my travel softball team.
It was that dreaded moment after I had gotten my plate of chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans, and had to choose a seat at a big table.
I sat down next to my teammate, whom I looked up to. She was two years older than me. She was fierce and badass. She said what was on her mind. She didn’t take shit from anyone.
Clearly, she didn’t feel the same about me because in response to my sitting next to her, she said, “I don’t want to sit by Teresa. She doesn’t talk.”
This happened twenty-three years ago, but I remember it so clearly, partly because comments like this one were not unfamiliar to me during my childhood. They had taken other forms, like: “Why don’t you talk more?” “Why are you being so quiet?” “What’s wrong?”
Despite the frequency with which I received these comments, I was always caught slightly off guard by them because my mind was far from a quiet place.
At the fundraising dinner, I remember thinking, “Was I really not talking? I guess I’m having a full-on conversation with myself in my head.”
I remember noticing all the different types of people at the dinner. All the shapes and sizes of bodies. I remember how loud it sounded and how hectic it felt. Some people were rushing to fill their plates with chicken and mashed potatoes. Other people were standing in the corner, waiting until the line died down. Little kids were running around. Chairs were being moved and screeching across the floor. I was wondering why we had to do a silly fundraiser dinner.
I was dreading that moment when I had to fill my own plate and choose somewhere to sit. I was conscious of how our team was dividing up into the usual cliques. I was unsure of where I belonged. I remember how uncomfortable I felt in my ten-year-old body.
So, when my teammate commented that I didn’t talk, I was initially confused because my mind was very active. Then I was hurt and immediately started to question what was wrong with me.
And I froze. Now I certainly wasn’t going to talk!
If you’re introverted, quiet, or shy, then you know the debilitating effect such comments can have, especially as a kid.
Through my teenage years and into my adult years, this incident, and many others, shaped the belief about myself that I was too quiet, which was really the big underlying belief that something was wrong with me.
I felt the pressure to bend and contort myself to fit the mold of a world that seemed more suited for the bold, loud, extroverted people than for the cautious, quiet, introverted ones.
In high school, I remember hanging at friends’ houses so lost in my own head, spiraling about what I should say, which usually resulted in me freezing and not saying anything at all.
In college, I tried to fix my inadequacy with drinking because I found that with a little liquid courage, I could open up and be “normal.”
As an adult, I would hide out in the bathroom at conferences so I did not have to engage in awkward pleasantries with a stranger at a high-top table eating stale muffins and drinking bitter coffee.
I didn’t really have a fear of talking, sharing, or raising my hand in class or in a meeting. It was that in-between time of socializing and small talk that was paralyzing. I felt like this time was for cracking jokes and witty comments, and I felt woefully unable to do such things.
But now, at thirty-three years old, I have overridden that internal narrative of fear and inadequacy, and I have written a new story that is grounded in intuitive knowing. It’s a knowing that…
1. My quietness is connected to my perceptiveness, and together, these are two of my greatest strengths.
I am able to read the energy of a room of people and quickly intuit their needs and desires (sometimes!). My quietness also makes me an expert space holder for my clients.
2. My grounding earth energy is welcome and appreciated.
Just yesterday, I reconnected with a friend from high school, and she told me how she always admired my silent power.
3. My verbal contributions to groups are few but thoughtful.
Numerous people have told me that they know when I talk, they want to listen, because it will be something thoughtful and meaningful.
4. Non-verbal communication that comes from deep within the body is sometimes even more powerful than words.
I have full-on conversations with strangers through the eyes alone, and sometimes these conversations leave me feeling fuller and more connected than any verbal conversation ever does.
To uncover these knowings, I excavated my inner landscape through all the usual routes—you know, journaling, meditating, running, breathing, dancing. Let me pause on that last one. If there’s one thing I know for sure in this life, it’s this: dance more.
I begin every morning by dancing to one song. During this practice, I deepen my connection to my body, to myself. Through dance, I express parts of myself that I am unable to express in words. I have released physical tension and overcome limiting beliefs simply by dancing them out. Sometimes our fears and worries are simply energy that needs to be moved through the body.
Dancing is also about embodiment. We can do all the mindset work to overcome our beliefs, to understand why we are the way that we are, but at some point, we have to stop trying to fix ourselves and simply be who we are. And dancing is one of my favorite practices of being.
I want to leave you with a few thoughts:
Nothing is wrong with you. There is no “right” way to be or to express yourself, except for the way that feels true and safe for you. Each of us is a unique being with a multifaceted personality, and sometimes, we are full of paradoxes. We get to be introverted and extroverted, courageous and cautious, feminine and masculine.
Lastly, for those of you who do not identify as being an introvert, here are a few things that I want you to know about me, an introvert:
1. If I am quiet, do not assume something is wrong. In fact, when something is wrong, I will clearly and boldly speak up about it.
2. Don’t mistake my introversion for aloofness or pretentiousness. I am actually deeply aware of, engaged with, and inspired by all that is happening around me. I am simply taking it all in.
3. I love people. And I also need time to recharge after socializing.
4. When you call me out for being quiet at a social gathering, it feels like I’m being attacked. (Well, it used to feel this way, not so much anymore because I am confident in my quietness now.) But please trust that I will speak when I want or need to.
5. At social gatherings, I love sitting back and observing. It brings me joy.
6. Small talk is hard for me. But it does not mean I look down on small talk.
7. Sometimes it takes me a little longer than others to formulate a response to a question. So have patience with me.
Extroverts (and all who are reading!), I want to know about you too. Feel free to drop any things you want me to know about you in the comments below.
Here’s to me being me, and you being you, and us being connected through it all.
-
How to Stop Feeling Overwhelmed by Other People’s Strong Emotions
“It is not your responsibility to figure out what someone else is feeling and why. Let go of the illusion that ‘fixing’ their bad mood will make you feel better.” ~Sarah Crosby
Some years ago, I was talking to my husband on the phone. He sounded annoyed about something to do with his work, but I noticed an intense emotional reaction in myself. Immediately, my heart contracted and my stomach lurched. I could feel a runaway train of emotions activate within me.
My whole body was awash with nausea, and I felt so very uncomfortable.
This was a familiar and old pattern for me. My husband had some feelings and expressed them, and I felt totally overwhelmed by them. It then created a loop of reactivity where he would say something in this annoyance, I would respond with fear that he was annoyed, and it would all become a big mess of emotions being thrown all over the place.
But what felt worse than that moment, when I experienced his feelings as though they were the end of the world, is what came after. I would sink into a familiar space of despair about my husband and how he was feeling. I would try and think of ways to fix the situation, or feel aggrieved by how he’d reacted.
This response is something that I experienced not just with my husband, but with most people in my life to a greater or lesser degree. My real or imagined noticing of someone having feelings, and how horrible that felt for me, in my body.
It was totally instinctive, that someone would seem upset and I would jump in and try to fix, reassure, help, or soothe. And in that process, I would totally subjugate my needs and feelings because of how much I didn’t like how it felt to be around people and their emotions.
Sometimes it would feel that people close to me were trying to upset me with their emotions on purpose. When a family member got angry it would totally overwhelm me, and I would end up resenting them for days or weeks. It felt like they were punishing me with their anger.
When my kids felt disappointment or sadness, I found it unbearable to see them feeling so bad, and I would endeavor to help them by changing their plans, getting them a cookie, or trying to talk them out of how they were feeling.
The problem here is that, of course, when we are human beings around other human beings, we are going to encounter people having feelings—about us or themselves, or anything else we humans have feelings about.
When we find other people’s feelings challenging, we aren’t giving them the space they need to have feelings. There is an element of Your feelings are making me uncomfortable! Can you please shut them down because I don’t like them.
Which is understandable when we don’t know how to deal with our own emotions. If we don’t feel okay around our feelings, of course we struggle with other people’s.
So how do we learn how to not get intertwined with other people and their emotions? How do we stop having such intense reactions to people having feelings, regardless of what they are about?
How can we stop letting other people’s emotional responses completely distract us, and throw us off our day—consuming vast amounts of time and activating intensely uncomfortable feelings of our own?
For me, the first step was learning how to identify what was happening. I felt like other people’s feelings were happening to me, but really, they were having feelings and I was having feelings.
My feelings are separate from your feelings.
One of the reasons why it feels that we get so intertwined and things get so messy in relationships is that we don’t recognize that we all have separate feelings. In so many relationships we don’t give each other space to have feelings, because of the patterns of how we respond to emotions.
We often think it’s like this:
Stop being scared! It’s making me scared!
Stop being irritable! It’s making me anxious!
But really no one is making us have feelings. Our emotions arise on their own, as do someone else’s. But we can learn how to stop reacting to their emotions as our own.
If we can see Oh, I am having my own feelings here! we can then use this awareness to create some space and start to pay attention to ourselves and our emotions instead.
Recognize that no one is having feelings on purpose.
Once I had been coaching for a few years and had radically changed how I worked with both my own emotions and how I responded to those of the other people around me, I asked my husband what he loved the most about my work. He said that now he no longer feels tortured by my feelings. And I thought, Wow! That is so fascinating.
I was so used to feeling overwhelmed by his feelings that I never considered that he was feeling the same way.
Because my emotional reactions are so different from his, it didn’t occur to me that he was also uncomfortable around my feelings. And it’s the difference in our responses that can provide so much confusion in relationships.
My go-to strategy when overwhelmed by my husband’s emotions was to chase him down and try to discuss and fix everything straight away. His strategy was to try to disconnect from me and run away.
Essentially, we both felt challenged by the other’s emotions, and by working to create some space to support ourselves in our own emotions, we created such a big shift in how we now respond to each other.
People can’t be truly empathetic when they are emotionally activated.
What I now know about emotions is that we can’t truly access empathy when we are emotionally activated, so if I am with someone who is having feelings, I don’t expect empathy and understanding from them.
In order to gain full access to our empathy, we need to move through the emotions, so part of working with other people is letting them move through the anger/fear/sadness or whatever it is they are feeling.
I don’t engage them in things I am not happy about or talk about their behavior or what they’ve said—until after they have moved through that feeling.
When we feel any emotion, we see the whole world through the lens of that emotion. Anger sees upsetting things everywhere. Fear sees scary things everywhere. So it doesn’t benefit us to get too involved in what someone might say when they are in the thick of emotional activation.
Knowing this helps us work on not reacting to what they are saying, doing, or feeling.
Feelings activate feelings.
If we are feeling super calm and someone comes along and is expressing a lot of anger, it can easily activate our own feelings. That’s natural. Maybe we feel fear around anger, or maybe we feel anger at their anger. It’s natural for our feelings to activate around others.
With all emotions, we want to work on supporting ourselves through emotional activation. When we can do this, when we can sit with ourselves and provide support, we can move through the emotions with more ease and confidence, and not get stuck in the loop of that emotion.
By noticing and naming your experience, you are offering yourself some support.
We can say to ourselves, The best thing I can do right now is support myself in feeling my feelings, and not engage in their feelings.
We can acknowledge how challenging this is for us. We can offer ourselves the gift of understanding, and that can help us move with the discomfort of the emotions that have activated.
Offer yourself some empathy, understanding, and validation.
Empathy is a very powerful resource when we are in the thick of emotions. Giving ourselves some tender, kind, loving support is a real gift to ourselves when we feel activated.
Maybe we say to ourselves:
This is hard for me because…
I understand why this is so challenging.
It makes sense that this is tough for me since…
It’s hard seeing someone feel so disappointed or angry. It’s hard to hold these feelings.
If it feels good, offer yourself some physical support.
Put your hand on your heart, or stroke your arms, giving yourself a hug, while you stay with yourself in this experience of sitting with your feelings.
Of course, this isn’t always easy! When we have spent a lifetime responding to people’s emotions in a certain way, it takes some effort and focus to start responding differently.
Other people’s emotional activations are some of the hardest things we deal with, but with awareness and intention, we can learn to see these experiences differently, and then learn to respond differently.
Now when I hear disappointment or irritation from my husband, or sadness or despair from my kids, or anger or shame from my family, I can recognize that these are their feelings! I don’t need to jump into their pool of emotions and get immersed in their experiences.
I can instead stand back and support myself, which in turn supports them because I am not adding to the emotional load they are experiencing.
I can help by being responsible for my feelings so we aren’t creating a big chaotic mix of messy emotions.
This is how anyone can create some space and peace in the emotional experiences around them.
