How Handling Emotion Was Taught

I do not think my parents meant to teach me that my feelings were wrong when I was growing up.

I think they loved me very much. I think they wanted me to be happy. Safe. Functional. Accepted by the world.

And now that I am a parent myself, I understand that instinct more than I ever did before.

There is a particular kind of pain in watching your child suffer. You want to fix it immediately. You want to pull them away from sadness before it settles too deeply. You want to protect them from the world, from rejection, from loneliness, from pain.

I think my parents were trying to do that for me.

But somewhere along the way, I learned that difficult emotions were things to move away from quickly. Sadness became something to suppress. Frustration became something to smooth over. Fear became something to hide before it affected anyone else.

And because my mind already moved too fast, felt too much, noticed too much, this became another layer on top of everything.

Not just: "why can't I keep up?"

But: "why can't I do it quietly?"

So I learned to mask.

I learned to soften my reactions before other people could react to them first. I learned to smile while overwhelmed. To say "I'm fine" before anyone could become uncomfortable.

To edit myself in real time so that other people would not have to carry the weight of my feelings.

I became very good at appearing calm while internally struggling.

And the difficult thing is that this adaptation came from kindness too.

I did not want to hurt people by being sad. I did not want to disappoint anyone. I did not want my emotions to become another problem in the room.

So I learned to smooth myself out before other people could ask me to.

But the difficult thing about hiding parts of yourself is that eventually you also hide them from yourself.

You learn to fear emotion.

But how can someone truly hold you if they only ever meet the version that has already been edited for their comfort?

I spent so long trying to become acceptable that I never realised how lonely it feels to be loved selectively.

Over time, I think part of me quietly absorbed the idea that the unfiltered version of myself was simply too much. Too emotional. Too sensitive. Too complicated. That love and acceptance were things I earned by staying regulated, useful, agreeable, and easy to be around.

I do not blame my parents for this.

I think they were passing down the emotional tools they had been given themselves.

And if I am honest, I think I have probably done versions of the same thing with my own children too. Not because I do not love them enough, but because I love them so much that seeing them hurt is painful for me too.

But I am starting to understand that loving someone is not always removing the pain as quickly as possible.

Sometimes it is sitting beside them inside it. Seeing them fully.

Meeting them where they are instead of where you wish they could be.

Saying: "It is okay that you feel this."

Not trying to rush them away from sadness because their sadness makes you uncomfortable.

Not teaching them, even accidentally, that difficult emotions make them harder to love.

Just staying.

Just helping them feel less alone while they carry what they are carrying.

Because I think that is what I needed most all along.

Not someone to make the feeling disappear. Just someone who was not afraid of it.

This is the role of the parent as a teacher. To mask your feelings to your child in a different, more helpful way that shields and protects them. To put your own feelings to one side. To act selflessly.

Yes it will hurt you.

You should not show their pain brings you pain.

This does not help teach your child the right things.

You must learn to create a safe space for them to exist and learn how to process their emotions in a healthy way. To know it is ok to just feel them through your body. To describe the feelings and release them.

This is emotional presence without emotional panic.

Healing is not learning how to perform happiness better.

Maybe it is slowly learning that difficult feelings do not make me unworthy of connection.

That being seen is not the same thing as being rejected.

That I do not need to smooth every edge of myself down before I am allowed to exist honestly around other people.