How many times have you wondered whether how you feel is really ok or legit? Is it really okay to feel sad or angry? Do you ever hear that voice in your mind whispering, “You’re overreacting” “Don’t be such a baby,” or “Grow up!”
From an early age, most of us begin receiving messages—direct or indirect—about how we should feel. And many of those messages come from our parents. Even the most loving caregivers can unknowingly discourage the expression of certain emotions, not out of malice, but because they, too, were confused by their own inner world or overwhelmed by all their responsibilities. This was certainly true in the family of six children where I was raised. Or maybe you are raised in a family that labeled children who were quiet, cooperative and obedient as good and their noisy, independent siblings as the bad kids, and you have adopted certain attitudes about your own feelings.
It’s tricky. Children are small bundles of ever-changing emotions—laughing one moment, crying the next, stormy and then suddenly sunny. They’re like little kaleidoscopes of feeling, shifting constantly. But here’s the BIG thing—The way a parent responds to their children’s emotions becomes foundational to the child’s sense of self. Meaning their self-confidence, or lack thereof, their feelings about themselves and how they think of themselves compared to others.
If a child’s emotional expression,—crying, stomping around, sulky moods, anger,—-is regularly dismissed, punished, or met with discomfort—“You’re too sensitive,” “Calm down,” “Grow up” or “I’ll give you something to cry about”—they begin to internalize a dangerous belief: Some feelings are bad. And if I have those feelings, then maybe I’m bad, too.
That’s not just unfortunate—it’s quietly traumatic.
How we learn to feel about ourselves
Self-confidence, self-compassion, self-worth, these aren’t built in a vacuum. At their core, they are deeply connected to how we were made to feel about our feelings. Young children identify their feelings as themselves. “I am my feelings.”
Because we don’t come into this world knowing who we are. We look to others to reflect back to ourselves: Am I good? Am I lovable? Will you still love me if I’m messy, curious, upset, silly? The answers we receive—spoken or unspoken—become the blueprint for how we see ourselves.
But what if the mirror our parents (and our culture) held up for us to see ourselves —was cracked? What if the messages we received were distorted by someone else’s pain or fear or how they were raised to think about feelings.
Even the kindest parents can give harmful messages—not because they didn’t love us, but because they didn’t know what to do with their own sadness, fear, frustration, overwhelm or anger.
A Simple, Radical Truth
All feelings are legitimate. They are a response to something that affected you. Every single one.
You don’t choose your feelings any more than you choose your dreams. Have you ever noticed how quickly a feeling can appear, seemingly out of nowhere? How inconvenient or even confusing it can be? They are your own personal response to something you’re experiencing. Others may not feel as you do, but you do!
Here’s the key: You are not responsible for having a feeling. You are only responsible for what you choose to do with it.
Behavior? Yes. That’s on us.
But our feelings? They are messengers—windows into something deeper. They are clues to what we’ve experienced, what we need, and what might be unresolved.
A Personal Note
In my own life, anger was off-limits. It was made very clear: you have nothing to feel angry or upset about. Behave yourself. And so, I learned to suppress it.
As a young adult, people sometimes described me as having “a chip on my shoulder.” I didn’t like that description—who would?—but I didn’t know what to do with it either. I couldn’t identify what, exactly, gave people that impression. So, I tried to repress it even more. Hide it. Be nicer. Be easier to be around.
But Repression isn’t Resolution and Healing.
Repression is like putting your unresolved hurts and fear, the source of your feelings, into a container and storing them in the basement of your mind. They are still there and sometimes they sneak up the stairs and appear in your adult life. You can shove them back down, but that doesn’t stop them from reappearing again.
What does? In my professional career, I learned that curiosity—gentle curiosity—was the key. Instead of silencing the anger, I could turn toward it and ask, “Who is feeling angry?” Not what is making me angry, but who—what part of me is carrying this?
Try this yourself.
What emotion has been hard for you to express—grief, shame, resentment, fear? Choose one, and ask gently: Who is feeling this right now?
Often, an image or memory will arise. A scene from childhood, a classroom, a family dinner, a moment when your younger self didn’t feel seen or heard. Let it come. Don’t force it. Just observe.
And when you see that child or that moment, try saying: “I see you. I understand why you feel this way. You have every right. I’d feel that way too.”
Then notice what happens next. Maybe the scene fades. Maybe it shifts. Maybe that younger self has something else to say. Perhaps you can sense that she is comforted by having you understand (even just a bit) her situation. Whatever it is—be the good-enough mother or the good-enough father and extend to her what she needs emotionally and didn’t get when she was younger. Maybe it’s words of comfort, or affirmation that she’s hurting or has been treated unfairly. Continue to interact with her as long as you want. Remember to tell her, as you reorient back into the here and now, “I’m happy to have met you. Thank you for letting me talk to you.”
And if it feels like it is too much in the moment, that’s okay too. You can gently say to that part of you: “I’m glad to have met you, but I don’t have the energy to hear everything right now. Maybe another time.” Then step away—take a walk, call a friend, make something warm to eat. Be proud of yourself for opening the door.
Because this is the work: getting to know yourself not through judgment, but through kindness. Only when you understand yourself more deeply can you begin to heal. We too often think that healing comes because someone else likes you, or is kind to you. And while that helps—true healing comes when you have extended compassion and understanding to the parts of your self that need your caring and attention. It’s an inside job. One you are capable of doing. And if you need support, a guide to help you in your healing—well that’s more than ok. It’s like engaging a guide on a trip to a foreign land—if you feel lost or in need of guidance, it’s often a good idea.
The process that I just ran down is called Inner Child work. If you’d like to know more3 about it, there are many great resources available on the internet. If you’d like to know more, I cover this in the book I’ve recently published, Bruised Not Broken. Check it out.