Owning Up To It
A while ago, my therapist asked me if it was difficult for me to "own my negative feelings". I had no idea what she was talking about. Negative feelings aren't for me to own, but to throw away as quickly as possible! They're the messy remnants of relational friction, the ugly parts of an immature heart. Isn't a whole and happy person someone who refuses to accept anger, sadness, disappointment, but one who rises above them, casts them off, and continues sailing through life with a smile?
I believed that negative feelings, although natural and unavoidable, were to be dealt with as swiftly as possible, either through prayer or sheer force of mental willpower. "You don't have to be in a bad mood", or "you can change your emotions", I would say to myself. And when I couldn't, I would pretend that I did.
One of the earliest compliments I can remember receiving on a consistent basis was in Chinese, and often said to me by my relatives. Directly translated, it means one who "understands things", or in other words, someone who is mature beyond her years. As the oldest sister, I was always being praised for being mature, for being understanding, for responding in calm and measured ways to things not going my way. I basked in the praise, and tried my hardest to continue to deserve it.
Fast forward 24 years, and I am sitting on an overstuffed chair across from my therapist, who is asking me to describe how I felt in a specific childhood memory we were discussing. In rapid succession, I flashed through fear, shame, and anger. What is the point of talking about how I felt? I had moved on, and there was no point in dwelling on those feelings. How dare she force me to remember that I had felt completely disappointed and helpless all those years ago?
I called her the following week to cancel my appointment, feigning illness and not really knowing why I did not want to go back. She patiently reminded me of the center's attendance policy, and that the next time I cancelled I would need to pay a cancellation fee. Two weeks later, I was back in that chair.
Thus began a long (and still ongoing) process of allowing myself to feel and name the emotions that come across my heart. I still believe in the power of being positive, and that we really can change our bad moods with our thoughts and prayers. I also believe that not every emotion is justified and may be rooted in sin. But I also think that emotions are signs that something may be wrong, and I have made it a habit to ignore the signs.
What I really need is to to strip away my pride, and admit that things do get to me sometimes. People sometimes disappoint me. I sometimes get really annoyed when things don't go my way. It is not easy to like everyone. I am not, nor will I ever be, perfect.
Until I allow myself to feel these things about myself and others, I will never be able to figure out the real problems in myself. I will never change and I will never grow.
For a long time in my life, I measured my maturity by how skillfully I could control my feelings. Hopefully I can now begin to measure it by how courageously I own up to my feelings, and use them to change and grow.
I believed that negative feelings, although natural and unavoidable, were to be dealt with as swiftly as possible, either through prayer or sheer force of mental willpower. "You don't have to be in a bad mood", or "you can change your emotions", I would say to myself. And when I couldn't, I would pretend that I did.
One of the earliest compliments I can remember receiving on a consistent basis was in Chinese, and often said to me by my relatives. Directly translated, it means one who "understands things", or in other words, someone who is mature beyond her years. As the oldest sister, I was always being praised for being mature, for being understanding, for responding in calm and measured ways to things not going my way. I basked in the praise, and tried my hardest to continue to deserve it.
Fast forward 24 years, and I am sitting on an overstuffed chair across from my therapist, who is asking me to describe how I felt in a specific childhood memory we were discussing. In rapid succession, I flashed through fear, shame, and anger. What is the point of talking about how I felt? I had moved on, and there was no point in dwelling on those feelings. How dare she force me to remember that I had felt completely disappointed and helpless all those years ago?
I called her the following week to cancel my appointment, feigning illness and not really knowing why I did not want to go back. She patiently reminded me of the center's attendance policy, and that the next time I cancelled I would need to pay a cancellation fee. Two weeks later, I was back in that chair.
Thus began a long (and still ongoing) process of allowing myself to feel and name the emotions that come across my heart. I still believe in the power of being positive, and that we really can change our bad moods with our thoughts and prayers. I also believe that not every emotion is justified and may be rooted in sin. But I also think that emotions are signs that something may be wrong, and I have made it a habit to ignore the signs.
What I really need is to to strip away my pride, and admit that things do get to me sometimes. People sometimes disappoint me. I sometimes get really annoyed when things don't go my way. It is not easy to like everyone. I am not, nor will I ever be, perfect.
Until I allow myself to feel these things about myself and others, I will never be able to figure out the real problems in myself. I will never change and I will never grow.
For a long time in my life, I measured my maturity by how skillfully I could control my feelings. Hopefully I can now begin to measure it by how courageously I own up to my feelings, and use them to change and grow.
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