The emotion I fear the most isn’t the one I expected it to be

Hi there,

I’m writing this while sitting on the floor next to my Christmas tree.

My house smells like mulled wine and cake.

It’s a moment of tranquility; my kittens are curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, and the only sound is a soft, ambient melody drifting from Spotify.

I’ve grabbed my laptop to share this with you, fresh from a tearful moment. These tears, a blend of sadness and fear, have been my constant companions throughout 2023.

They’ve woven themselves into the fabric of my year, prompting a familiar inner dialogue each time they surface: “Why are you feeling this way? You have no reason!”

It’s a reflex, a defense mechanism to distance myself from my emotions.

Do you ever find yourself doing the same?

Running from your feelings, fearful of confronting them, and offering yourself the compassion you deserve?

Sadness.

Fear.

An unfiltered life is one that we might be ashamed to share online.

I know I did.

I was so scared to share online the vulnerable side.

The ich.

The pain.

The failures.

The mistakes.

The shame.

Oh, shame! Another feeling that I carried with me this year.

Shame.

Guilt.

Questions swirl in my mind:

Do I belong?

Am I cut out for this?

Why can’t I be happy like everyone else?

Why? Why? Why?

These doubts have led me to a startling realization: joy is the emotion I fear the most.

The idea of fully immersing myself in happiness, awe, and curiosity terrifies me.

I know it might sound like a privilege. And maybe it is.

Yet I find it so sad: the inability to experience joy wholeheartedly.

This half experience of life.

Half enjoying a successful story.

Half enjoying a relationship.

Half enjoying a cup of coffee.

Living as only a fraction of yourself, constantly bracing for something bad to happen, fearful of the vulnerability that comes with being human.

It’s a defense mechanism, preparing for the worst, yet it robs us all of the fullness of life.

Half-ing life just because we’re afraid something bad will come after.

Half-ing life just because enjoying it 100% would remind us of all the moments we lost by not doing so.

Half-ing life just because we are in constant preparation for the worst.

I see this pattern in my relationships too.

I hold back with my parents, painfully aware that we might only have a limited number of Christmases left together.

With my partner, I guard myself against potential abandonment.

My time with my sister is tinged with the pain of watching her grow up and away.

Even in my business, there’s a lurking fear that it’s all an illusion, ready to crumble at any moment.

So, I ask you, when do you find yourself living life only halfway?

When do you hold back, and what might change if you allowed yourself to experience everything fully?

Love and hugs!

 

 

 

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