what if there is no right emotion, just the ones we feel?
a brief dissection of the one-experience-one-emotion prescription
So many people, myself included, seem to be swinging amidst conflicting emotions. Grief and relief. Fear and excitement. Overwhelm and apathy. Contentment and worry. Disappointment and anticipation. Clarity and confusion.
As soon as one answer reveals itself or one problem resolves, another pops up in its place.
Friends pondering career pivots and big life changes.
Pregnant friends navigating personal expectations, unwelcomed projections, and the process of surrender.
Moms sending kids off to kindergarten or back to college.
Friends navigating fertility.
Postpartum friends adjusting to a new rhythm of life.
Me, counting down to a big move and heading headfirst into uncertainty.
Regardless of the situation, often there is one emotion or emotional category prescribed to it. A way we feel we should present, certain emotions or thoughts that we can and do talk about and certain ones that we save for our sister, best friend, or private shower cry.
It can feel unnecessarily stifling to shut out one or multiple parts of our experience because they aren’t what’s typically modeled in those around us.
There is protecting our peace and selective sharing, knowing who in our lives - despite the amount of love we may have for them - may not support or understand our experience and using discretion to open up accordingly.
Then, there’s the gaslighting or shame that we can put ourselves through when we notice an emotion outside of what’s expected.
Why am I feeling like this?
I’m supposed to be happy, this is good.
Or, I’m supposed to be sad, this is bad.
Because the unspoken one-experience-one-feeling prescription exists, we feel even more emotions - guilt, shame, hesitancy, embarrassment, fear, insecurity, criticism, weakness, worry - when we fall outside that one-lane road.
I remember getting ready to leave for college and feeling so confident in my decision, so sure that the rest of my life awaited me in Knoxville. From acceptance to early August, I felt little else but certainty. As the days ticked down, my feelings grew more varied, and I started to interpret that variance as evidence building that my decision was wrong - that I didn’t know what I was doing. That I shouldn’t go. That I didn’t make the right choice.
This was good though, so shouldn’t I be excited? Optimistic? Happy? It was what I had been waiting for. What did it mean if I was also feeling fear, doubt, insecurity, tinges of guilt, and anxiety about this 500-mile move away from all I had ever known at the little ole age of 18?
Nothing. Now I know this. But knowing something does not mean it is instilled in you forever and never rears its ugly head again. I revisited this lesson two years ago when I debated whether to leave a job I had emotionally intertwined myself with (to an unhealthy extent) to go to Spain and start anew.
I was at a crossroads. I was stressed beyond measure, emotionally fragmented. I cared to the extent that I was putting everything (and everyone) before myself. I had pushed myself so far down the road of self-sacrifice that I realized the choice was me or my job.
The decision tore at me. I felt so guilty, so selfish for choosing myself, but I knew my life as it stood wasn’t sustainable. I mulled this over with my therapist at the time, a true angel descended to earth, and she asked, “What if there is no right decision, just the one that you make?”
I think of that now. What if there is no right emotion, just the ones we feel? What would be unburdened if we dropped the shoulds and expectations and just felt the way we felt - allowing it all to exist within the complexity of our experience?
After all, our experience is never just one thing. Even going to the store is driving there and parking and walking in. Someone may cut you off then the next person gives you the front-row spot while it’s raining. Someone offers you a cart. The next person takes the last of the item that you came for. You see a friend. A stranger is rude.
We never really know what an experience will hold or who we will encounter or if Aldi will have what we need. Yet, in those more predictable, scripted aspects of life, we’re comfortable saying, “I was so pissed on my drive there, this idiot cut me off, but then I got to the store and saw Liz and it was so great.”
There isn’t a societal script for how we should feel when we go to the store, so we have an easier time allowing a breadth of emotions to intertwine with the experience. However, with more complex life events, we’re often told (directly or indirectly) that a certain event equals a certain emotion. This one, big, life-changing thing is happening, and I’m supposed to feel this one definite way.
But what if we just let it all ride?
What if within all decisions, events, experiences, and changes we got a bit better at allowing different emotions to coexist - happiness and doubt, fear and certainty, grief and relief.
That’s what I’m trying to do — and it’s helping a bit. I feel much less guilty and frustrated when I’m not trying to make myself feel differently.
Somedays I feel overwhelmed with this move to North Carolina — How am I going to get everything packed? What will I do when I get there? Where will I work? What will his schedule be? Will I see him at all? Will I find my support system? Will I be okay when I’m alone? Will I find my place?
And other days, I feel so excited for the clean slate — Maybe this is when I finally go all in on writing. I can’t wait to make soup this fall when it’s not 6,000 degrees. Seasons — I’ll get to watch the leaves change. It might even snow. I can’t wait to paint my office and buy a new bed. Get a new desk. Make a reading nook. Start a new chapter with the person I love.
Any set of “conflicting” emotions can coexist within an experience if we let them because what if there is no right emotion, just the ones that we feel? The less we make it into what we think it should be, the better it can get.
the recommendations
R — [recipe] Bone Broth Mac ‘n’ Cheese — It’s so good. I used a mix of white and extra sharp cheddar (FYI - I’ve read in some recipes that say the anti-caking agent in pre-shredded cheese will prevent it from melting ooey gooey). This will be on regular rotation as we head into comfort food season.
E — [entertainment] Good Girl’s Guide to Murder — Binged it. Loved it. I can’t really handle any thrillers or anything with violence, so this was the perfect level of suspense for me.
C — [content] You Are a Magnet, Amber Lyon — I haven’t bought her book yet, but her instagram account has become one of my favorites for timely reminders that help me to shift my perspective and reground in what I know to be true rather than what the worries and whims of my mind are convincing me.
S — [shift] The Questions I’m Rotating Through — What can be done today? What can wait? What can I ask for help with?
As always, thanks for being here, reading, and following along as I figure it all out. It’s appreciated more than you know <3