Today I saw a pretty pink floral shirt that said “don’t feel bad about feeling” and it resonated with me. It was aestheticly appealing to me and the words are true, but it affected me because it was a truth that could have changed my life had it been spoken to me in my more formative years.
I was raised by and with narcissists and sociopaths who were skilled at gaslighting and victim blaming. “I was cruel to you? How dare you have an appropriate emotional response?” “I was cruel to you? It’s your fault your feelings are hurt because you have emotions.”
Words and tones were carefully crafted so that a plausible denial to any ill intentions could be made. If you’re upset is your own fault because you’re too sensitive. It was a maddening world of deceit, intentional cruelty, and ever shifting rules.
Eventually I learned how to suppress my emotions. I learned how to react appropriately to everything, feigning the socially acceptable emotional response. And now I wish I had emotions. My default state-of-being is emptiness or depression; I live at a nameless sadness. I occasionally get a burst of feelings. When they come they’re overwhelming and brief. It’s usually a moment of intense love for my husband or pets.
I stand firm in the knowledge that my love for them is unconditional and enduring. It’s stored deep inside me, a part of my very being. Maybe I don’t usually feel it, but I always know it.
thebadgerspath.com 