EMOTIONAL WHOLENESS

Be you with big heartbeats, be you when you roar,

Your feelings are keys that unlock the door.

Emotional wholeness means having the capacity to feel the full range of human emotion—not just the pleasant, acceptable ones. It means anger and joy can both exist. Grief and gratitude. Fear and courage. It's not about constant calm or positivity. It's about being able to feel what you feel, understand what it means, and trust that you can survive all of it.

For most of us, that's not what we learned. We learned to suppress, perform, and manage. We learned emotional control, not emotional wholeness. However, suppressing emotions is like trying to sit on a beach ball in the deep end of a pool. We can force it down for a while, but it takes constant energy. Eventually, it shoots up explosively, often at the wrong moment, aimed at the wrong person.

Emotions carry information. They're not problems to control, they're signals to understand.

Emotional intelligence isn't about having the "right" feelings. It's about recognizing what you feel, understanding its message, and choosing how to respond. The gift you give your child: when you welcome all your feelings, you teach them that emotions aren't enemies. They're guides.

All of us carry the emotional rules of our families and cultures often without realizing it. What's considered "appropriate" emotional expression varies dramatically depending on where and how we were raised. And those rules shape what we allow ourselves to feel and express. What's universal, though, is this: when we consistently suppress emotions that don't fit the accepted script, we pay a cost. The feelings don't disappear. They go underground and find other ways to surface.

THE LANGUAGE WE DON'T HAVE

One of the biggest barriers to emotional wholeness is language. Most of us don't have the vocabulary to name what we're actually feeling. We say "I'm upset" when we mean disappointed, hurt, resentful, overwhelmed, or scared. We say "I'm fine" when we're anything but. We use words like "stressed" or "bad" because we struggle to find the precise language that would help us understand what's really happening inside.

However, when we can't name something specifically, we can't understand it. We can't work with it. We stay stuck in a fog of "I feel bad" without knowing what "bad" actually means.

Think about the difference between these two statements:

"I'm stressed." versus "I'm anxious about the presentation tomorrow, resentful that I have to do it alone, and I'm exhausted because I didn't sleep well."

When we name what’s really happening, we begin to see what’s needed. Anxiety often means the body is on alert, scanning for danger even when we’re safe. What helps isn’t always deep breathing or meditation. It’s anything that tells the body, You can stand down now. That might be a walk outside, a hug, a slower exhale, or simply noticing your feet on the ground. The goal isn’t calm. It’s safety.

Research shows that naming emotions precisely calms the nervous system (Barrett, 2017). When we move from “I’m upset” to “I’m disappointed and a little resentful,” something shifts in our bodies and brains. Our autonomic nervous system, the part that controls automatic stress responses, begins to settle. The alarm bells quiet down. Our capacity to think clearly and make choices returns. The overwhelming feeling becomes something we can actually work with. Precision brings clarity, and clarity brings calm.

THE COMPARISON TRAP: “IT WASN'T THAT BAD”

In therapy sessions, I often hear: “It wasn’t that bad.” “Other people have been through worse.” “I shouldn’t feel this way.”

This is one of the most common ways we dismiss our own pain. We compare our experiences to others and decide ours don’t count. We tell ourselves we’re lucky, we’re fine, we should just get over it. This is NOT unconditional positive regard.

Emotional wholeness comes from allowing our own feelings to matter. What happened to you doesn’t have to be catastrophic to be significant. Let me repeat that. What happened to you doesn’t have to be catastrophic to be significant. Take a moment and really let that settle in.

If an experience, comment, person, or event hurt, it deserves attention. If it shaped you, it’s worth understanding. Healing doesn’t require proof of how bad it was. It begins the moment you stop arguing and minimizing your own experience.

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

Before you explore these questions, remember that emotional wholeness begins with awareness. We all carry emotional rules from childhood: what was acceptable, what was ignored, what was punished, and what was never named. These rules often guide our reactions without our knowing. These questions are here to help you notice what shaped your inner world, what you’ve learned to hide, and what might finally be ready to be felt. There are no right answers.

What emotions were acceptable in your family or culture? Which were dismissed or punished?
What happened when you expressed anger, sadness, or fear as a child?
When you say "I'm stressed" or "I'm upset," what specific emotion are you actually feeling underneath?
Complete this: "I've been pretending I'm _____, but I'm actually _____."
Where do you use vague language ("fine," "stressed," "upset") to avoid naming what you actually feel?
What is your anger trying to protect right now?
If your numbness or anxiety could speak, what would it say?

Practice 1: Name–Need–Next (1 minute)

Once a day or whenever you feel "off”, pause and write:

Name: "Right now I feel ___." (Choose a specific word.)

Need: "Because I need ___."

Next: "One tiny step I can take is ___."

Practice 2: Emotion as Guest

When a difficult emotion arises, imagine it as a guest knocking on your door.

Instead of pretending no one's there, yelling at them to go away, or letting them trash the place, try: Opening the door. Acknowledging them.

Ask: "What do you need? What are you here to tell me?"

Let the emotion sit with you for 3 minutes. Don't fix it. Just be with it. Then thank it for the information and let it move through

Practice 3: The "And" Practice

When two feelings conflict, stop choosing between them. Say them both out loud with "and" between them: "I'm grateful for my kids and exhausted by them." "I love my life and feel lonely in it." "I'm proud of myself and disappointed I didn't do more." This teaches your brain that complexity isn't contradiction—it's wholeness.