08/09/2026
Let’s Talk About It
One of the hardest things we can learn to do is recognize what we are actually feeling. Not what we think we should be feeling. Not what we have convinced ourselves we are feeling. And definitely not the emotion we slap on top because it’s more socially acceptable or less emotionally inconvenient. Sometimes anger isn’t really anger. Sometimes irritation is just hurt wearing a leather jacket and pretending it’s fine. Sometimes frustration is fear in disguise, acting like it’s “just being logical.” Sometimes jealousy is insecurity doing parkour in your brain. Sometimes “I don’t care” is actually “I care way too damn much and I am actively trying not to implode about it.” And sometimes the emotion we’re showing is just the decoy while the real one is hiding behind a couch like it pays rent there.
So how do you figure out what you’re actually feeling? Start by stopping. I know. Revolutionary. Groundbreaking. Nobel Prize-worthy advice. But most of us don’t actually stop long enough to feel anything. We react. We defend. We explain. We overthink. We text our friends “am I crazy or…?” We scroll. We suddenly become extremely interested in reorganizing a drawer that has not been touched since 2019. Anything except sitting still long enough to feel the thing.
Try asking yourself: what happened? Not the entire 47-chapter emotional saga with flashbacks and director’s commentary. Just what actually happened. Then check in with your body like it’s the only honest witness in the room. Did your chest tighten? Did your stomach drop like it just saw a horror movie twist? Did your jaw clench like it’s training for a boxing match? Are you hot, shaky, heavy, numb, or suddenly convinced you need to move to another country? Your body usually knows what’s going on before your brain finishes its dramatic interpretation.
Then ask: what emotion am I calling this? Maybe you say, “I’m pi**ed.” Okay, valid. But let’s not stop at the headline. What’s the subtext? What’s underneath the anger? Am I hurt? Rejected? Embarrassed? Disappointed? Feeling ignored? Feeling invisible? Feeling like I just got emotionally left on read in real life? That’s where things start getting uncomfortably accurate.
Because anger is often the emotion we reach for when the real one feels too exposed. It’s much easier to say, “I’m pi**ed off,” than, “That actually hurt my feelings and I don’t know how to say that without feeling like I’m 12 years old again.” It’s easier to say, “I don’t care,” than, “I cared a lot and now I feel stupid about it.” It’s easier to say, “Whatever,” than, “I’m disappointed and I’m trying not to take it personally but I absolutely am.” And half the time we don’t even realize we’ve switched into emotional camouflage mode.
Also, let’s talk about the stories our brains love to write. Because wow. Our brains are not neutral narrators. Someone doesn’t text back and suddenly we’ve written a full psychological thriller trilogy. “They’re mad at me.” “They’re losing interest.” “They’re secretly planning to disappear and start a new life under a different name.” “They’re choosing someone else.” “They’re done with me.” Meanwhile, the truth might be: they’re in the shower, their phone is dead, or they simply forgot because they are, in fact, a human being with a chaotic nervous system and not a villain in your emotional Netflix series.
Those are thoughts, not emotions. The emotion might be anxiety. The thought is just anxiety trying to justify its existence with a screenplay.
And that distinction matters, because you can’t always control what other people do, but you can start noticing what their behavior is triggering in you. Sometimes what you’re reacting to isn’t even fully about the present moment. It’s the present moment accidentally stepping on an old emotional landmine you forgot you buried. A small thing today can wake up something much older, and suddenly you’re reacting like it’s 2014 again and your nervous system never got the memo that we’ve moved on.
That doesn’t make your feelings dramatic or wrong. It makes them layered. And honestly, a little overworked.
But please don’t judge the emotion. There is no award for “most emotionally correct reaction.” You don’t get bonus points for being chill while internally combusting. You don’t have to be ashamed of jealousy, or angry at your anger, or disappointed in your disappointment like it’s a personal failure. You’re not supposed to be a robot with excellent coping skills 24/7. You’re a person. A very emotionally Wi-Fi-connected person.
Feelings are information. They are not instructions. They are not commands. They are not emergency evacuation orders.
Feeling angry doesn’t mean you need to explode like a shaken soda can. Feeling jealous doesn’t mean you need to accuse someone like you’re in a courtroom drama. Feeling hurt doesn’t mean you have to immediately confront someone mid-emotional chaos. Feeling afraid doesn’t mean danger is guaranteed. An emotion is something to listen to, not something that automatically gets the steering wheel, the keys, and control of your entire life decisions.
The next time something really gets under your skin, pause and ask: what happened? what am I feeling? where do I feel it in my body? what story am I telling myself about this? what might actually be underneath this? is this about right now, or is this about something older wearing a disguise? and finally, what do I actually need?
Not what do I want them to do. That’s a separate conversation. What do I need? Reassurance? A boundary? An apology? Space? Connection? To be heard? To cry for a minute without immediately analyzing it like a science experiment? To let something go that I’ve been gripping like it owes me money?
Because sometimes the loudest emotion in the room is not the real one. Sometimes the real one is quieter. It’s just sitting there saying, “Hey… I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now.”
And honestly, that voice? It’s usually been waiting longer than we’d like to admit. Probably patiently. Probably exhausted. Probably wondering if we’re ever going to check in.
Learning to recognize our emotions isn’t about becoming perfectly calm, endlessly self-aware, or spiritually unbothered by everything. It’s about becoming honest enough to notice what’s actually happening inside of us instead of just reacting to the surface noise. Because once we can name what we’re really feeling, we stop fighting ghosts and start understanding ourselves. And once we understand ourselves, we finally get a choice in what we do next.
Kindred Pen 🤍
