A Series on Emotional Truth
We’re often taught to sort our emotions into two tidy boxes:
✅ The “good” ones — joy, peace, gratitude.
❌ And the “bad” ones — anger, sadness, jealousy, shame.
But what if that story is incomplete?
What if the emotions we try hardest to suppress are the ones that need our attention the most?
This series is an invitation to look at your emotions differently — not as problems to fix, but as truths to listen to.
Each short piece explores a commonly judged emotion and the message it might be trying to send beneath the surface.
Because you’re not too sensitive.
You’re not overreacting.
You’re human. And your feelings make sense.
Let’s explore them — gently, honestly, together.
What If Your Anger Isn’t the Problem?
We’re taught that emotions come in two flavours:
✨ Good ones — like joy, love, gratitude.
🚫 And bad ones — like anger, sadness, jealousy.
So when anger shows up, we tighten. We judge.
I’m overreacting.
I shouldn’t feel this way.
What’s wrong with me?
But what if anger isn’t bad at all?
What if it’s a signal — not a flaw?
What if your anger is saying:
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I’ve been hurt.
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That crossed a boundary.
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I feel powerless.
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I’m overwhelmed.
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I’ve been holding too much for too long.
Anger is often the protector.
The one that shows up when something deeper hasn’t been acknowledged.
It’s not a character flaw.
It’s a clue. A message. A map.
So instead of asking, Why am I so angry?
Try asking, What part of me is hurting underneath this?
Because decoding your emotions doesn’t mean “fixing” them.
It means listening to them.
With curiosity. With compassion. Without shame.
Gentle reflection:
What emotion do you tend to label as “bad”?
What might it be trying to protect or reveal?
What If Your Sadness Isn’t the Problem?
Sadness makes people uncomfortable.
We’re taught to hide it. Apologize for it. Push through it.
Smile anyway. Be grateful. Stay strong.
So when sadness shows up, we often ask:
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Why can’t I just be okay?”
But what if sadness isn’t a weakness?
What if it’s not something to “fix” — but something to feel?
Sadness shows up when something matters.
It arrives in the spaces where love once lived.
In the gap between what we hoped for and what actually happened.
In the slow grief of unmet needs. Lost connection. Words that never came.
Sadness is your body remembering what you longed for — and didn’t receive.
It’s not self-pity. It’s not weakness.
It’s the part of you that knows how to care deeply.
It’s the part of you still holding the thread of what mattered.
What If You Let It Be?
What if, instead of pushing sadness away, you sat beside it?
What if you let it speak — not to drown you, but to soften you?
Sadness clears space. It makes room.
It asks you to pause. To feel. To be honest.
It reminds you that you still care — even if you're tired, even if you're hurting.
Gentle Reflection:
When sadness shows up for you… what is it mourning?
What longing or loss is it trying to honour?
What If Your Anxiety Isn’t the Problem?
Anxiety gets a bad reputation.
It’s the restless buzzing in your chest.
The tight jaw. The endless overthinking.
The “what ifs” that spiral at 3AM and the fear of not doing enough by 3PM.
So we try to control it:
Breathe deeper. Work harder. Get it together.
We shame it. We shame ourselves for feeling it.
But what if anxiety isn’t the problem?
What if it’s your body trying to protect you?
Anxiety is alertness born from experience.
It’s your nervous system saying:
“Something’s not safe.”
“I’ve been here before and I don’t want to be hurt again.”
“If I stay ahead of everything, maybe I won’t fall apart.”
Underneath anxiety, there’s usually something tender:
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Fear of failure
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Fear of disappointing others
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Fear of being left
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Fear of losing control
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Fear of finally feeling what you’ve been pushing down
Anxiety isn’t weakness. It’s over-adaptation.
It’s your body doing its best to manage what feels overwhelming.
What If You Didn’t Need to Fix It?
What if, instead of fighting anxiety, you got curious?
What if you said:
“Okay, I hear you. What are you trying to keep me safe from right now?”
Anxiety doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.
It often means something hasn’t been safe for a long time.
And maybe now — with gentleness and the right kind of support —
you can start learning how to feel safe again, without needing to be on high alert.
Gentle Reflection:
When anxiety rises in you… what part of you feels under threat?
What is your body bracing itself for — and what might it need instead?
What If Your Jealousy Isn’t the Problem?
Jealousy is an emotion most of us try to avoid.
It feels… icky. Embarrassing. Petty.
We don’t want to admit we feel it — even to ourselves.
So we stuff it down. Or judge it.
“I should be happy for them.”
“I’m being dramatic.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
But what if jealousy isn’t something shameful?
What if it’s just... honest?
What if it’s showing you something you deeply long for?
Jealousy is often a signal of desire.
Not hatred. Not resentment.
But yearning — for connection, freedom, visibility, ease, love.
It can show up when:
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You see someone living the life you don’t feel brave enough to claim
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You watch others receive support you never got
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Someone else’s joy touches a part of you that still aches
Jealousy says:
“I want that too… but I’m scared I can’t have it.”
“That looks like safety, love, being chosen — and I don’t know what that feels like.”
It’s vulnerable. That’s why it comes out sideways.
What If You Got Curious About It?
Instead of judging your jealousy, you could ask:
“What part of me is longing for something here?”
“Is this pointing to a need I’ve ignored or abandoned?”
Jealousy isn’t your enemy.
It’s a compass.
And if you follow it — gently, bravely — it might lead you back to a part of yourself you’ve left behind.
Gentle Reflection:
When jealousy shows up… what is it trying to show you about your own unmet desires?
What if this wasn’t shameful, but deeply human?
What If Your Numbness Isn’t the Problem?
Sometimes, you don’t feel sad.
You don’t feel angry.
You don’t feel much of anything.
You’re not melting down or lashing out.
You’re just… tired. Disconnected. Flat. Going through the motions.
And maybe you wonder:
“Why don’t I feel more?”
“Why can’t I cry or care or react?”
“What’s wrong with me?”
But what if nothing is wrong with you?
What if numbness isn’t the absence of feeling — but a sign that your system has been carrying too much for too long?
Numbness is the nervous system’s pause button.
When emotions get too big…
When life keeps demanding and you keep suppressing…
When grief, fear, or anger feel unsafe to feel —
your body doesn’t betray you.
It protects you.
It says:
“We can’t do this right now.”
“We’re maxed out.”
“Let’s survive first.”
This isn’t failure. It’s adaptation.
What If You Respected the Freeze?
Numbness isn’t apathy. It’s a sign of exhaustion.
It’s the nervous system saying:
“Please don’t ask me to push through one more thing.”
What if instead of shaming your numbness…
You met it with slowness?
With softness?
With safety?
Because often, when the body finally feels safe again — the feelings come.
Not all at once. But gently, in waves.
And that means you’re thawing. Returning. Healing.
Gentle Reflection:
When you feel numb… what might your body be protecting you from?
What might it need before it can feel again?
What If Your Shame Isn’t the Problem?
Shame doesn’t yell.
It whispers.
“You’re too much.”
“You’re not enough.”
“Don’t let them see this part of you.”
It’s the voice that curls around your joy, your grief, your needs…
and tells you to hide.
We often don’t even realize it’s shame — we just feel small.
Quiet. Not quite right.
And so we shrink.
But what if shame wasn’t a reflection of your truth…
but a scar from your past?
Shame doesn’t come out of nowhere.
It’s learned.
Absorbed in subtle glances, withheld affection, impossible standards.
It often takes root in childhood:
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When love felt conditional
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When being “good” meant being quiet, helpful, or perfect
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When your authentic self was met with disapproval or silence
Shame says:
“Be smaller, so you don’t lose connection.”
“Be perfect, so you won’t be rejected.”
It’s never been about being bad.
It’s been about belonging.
What If Shame Isn’t the Truth?
What if the presence of shame doesn’t mean you are broken —
but that something inside you still longs to be accepted?
What if shame is the place where you learned to disconnect from your real self —
and now, it’s offering a chance to reconnect?
To be seen. Not for what you produce.
But for who you are.
Gentle Reflection:
What part of you feels hardest to show?
Can you offer that part even the smallest drop of compassion?