[photo: lilivanili, Creative Commons]
“What was that like growing up?”
“Does he try to psychoanalyze you?”
“Do you ever ask him to interpret your dreams?”
What I tell them is that, for the most part, it was really great having a psychologist for a dad. He was understanding about all kinds of things other dads weren’t, he interpreted my dreams every now and then (when I was brave enough to share them) and although he tried to psychoanalyze me at times, I picked up on his tricks pretty quick, and just psychoanalyzed him right back. Two can play at that game.
The biggest thing about having psychologist for a dad is I was always given permission to feel what I felt. Whether I was mad, jealous, scared or exuberant, I was never required to pretend I felt anything else. We talked a lot about feelings in my family. Anytime there was an argument, a disagreement, or a disappointment you can probably guess the question that was always asked:
“How does that make you feel?”
The good news is I learned to be really in tune with my feelings. If you ask me how something makes me feel, I don’t have a hard time telling you. The bad news is, I’m learning lately, that knowing what you feel isn’t enough.
I don’t know about you, but my feelings don’t always point me in the right direction. Sometimes, when a customer makes a ridiculous request of me at Starbucks, I feel like telling them to go to hell (sorry, I’m just being honest). Other times, at the end of a long day, I feel like drinking a whole bottle of wine in my room by myself. Most days, I feel like trading two of my meals for frozen yogurt.
Those feelings are all real. I feel them. But that doesn’t mean that I should act on them.
It doesn’t mean that they’re pointing me toward healing and health.
I think about this when I get e-mails from singles who tell me things like, “I have feelings for a married man,” or “I’m dating this really great guy, and I want to marry him, but I can’t get over my ex-boyfriend.” I think about how important feelings are, and about how trapping it must be to hide those shameful feelings from people who might judge them just for feeling them.
I feel proud of them for finally being honest, with someone, about what’s happening inside them — and honored that they would share with me.
It’s important to be honest about what we’re feeling, first with ourselves, and then with someone else. It’s important that this person is trustworthy, that he/she won’t make you feel guilty or ashamed for feeling what you feel, and that — no matter how “awful” your feelings might seem — you aren’t angry with yourself for feeling them.
But that doesn’t mean you should act on your feelings.
In fact, sometimes acting on your feelings makes everything worse.
The reason it’s important to be honest about our feelings is that our feelings point to something. They might not point to what we wish they would, or what we think they do (an answer about how to act) but they always point to something that is going on inside of us. A feeling like “I hate my dad,” or “I want a divorce,” as shameful as it might be, is sending us a very important message.
The message is probably not to disown our dad, or to divorce our spouse.
It’s probably showing us something that is broken inside of ourselves, a wound that has been hidden, without care, for most of our life. A wound that can’t get healing until we admit we have it. It might point to twisted thinking (sin), sin that can’t be eradicated until we acknowledge that it’s there.
Do you have feelings you’re hiding — even from yourself?
Are you willing to start being honest with yourself?
Do you have someone trustworthy who you can be honest with?
I really like this post- it’s as though confession gives us space to analyze our next step, allowing us something concrete instead of trying to navigate through our hundreds of emotions that will eventually pass.
There’s something powerful about confession. I think that’s why we’re urged to “confess our sins, one to another…” (James 5:16) not to enable us or to shame us, but to heal us.
We’re told to follow out hearts and our feelings, even though that often is a bad idea – people need a sounding board. Often, once I’ve just talked out loud, things make a lot more sense, even when the other person has no advice to give!
So true, Matt. That’s why I think listening is the best gift that we can give people. Makes sense to me why we’re called to be “quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.”
Wow, wow, wow! Yes, I needed this today for sure. Emotions are such a big problem in my life sometimes. I’m up and down, up and down, ALL the time. I could always use the reminder that one, there is nothing wrong with my feelings, and two, but that doesn’t mean I act upon them either. Thanks Ally! Bless you, girl!
Tara — you’re so welcome! I’m glad it made sense to you, and that you feel encouraged by it. Thanks for adding to the conversation.
This is really good. A small example in my life of this right now is when I ‘feel like a boyfriend’. (which sounds ridiculously nonchalant and like I’m talking about ice-cream! Anyway). It hasn’t been a year from my last relationship yet, and I want to be single for a while to fully heal. Yet we all get lonely at times and this is when I want a boyfriend. I have been able to pinpoint that I don’t in fact want a boyfriend, I just want attention or cuddles, etc. It’s important to acknowledge WHAT you feel and then WHY you feel it to know exactly what’s going on.
Micaela — that’s such a great example. I’m really thankful you shared it here. “Feeling like a boyfriend” isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but dating a guy who isn’t right for you just because you don’t feel like being alone probably won’t get you what you’re really looking for.
Yes, yes, yes! Great article and very applicable in our lives. I am learning to give my 17 year old as much permission to feel as I do the women in my life that come to be about adultery in their marriage. I am finding that the more I listen to his feelings without trying to fix him, the less he is acting on them. I pray many read this piece and start long before I have done. Thank you for opening up this subject!
Jennifer — that is so awesome. I’m so glad that you’re parenting this way. What an incredible gift to your son, not to mention a fast-track to a close relationship with him!
I’ve always loved the expression, “Follow your heart, but take your brain with you.” My friends and I quote it to each other whenever we talk about relationships and other personal struggles in our lives. It’s great to be in tune with our feelings, but the advice that our hearts always know best have led a lot of people to make some terrible decisions because our hearts, it turns out, aren’t always in the right place. We have to think through the ramifications of what our hearts feel inclined to do, even when it feels impossible.
“Follow your heart, but take your brain with you.” I love that.
Absolutely loved this, Ally. I’m an introvert and am notorious for not being able to share my feelings very well…because I’m always trying to figure out what exactly I’m feeling! Brené Brown’s “The Gifts of Imperfection” really helped me with giving myself room to feel and being ok with that. And I started seeing a counselor about a year ago, which one of the best decisions I ever made.
Thanks so much for sharing your insight and experience!
Ryan, I’m proud of you for sharing your feelings, even when it doesn’t feel comfortable. It takes a lot of courage to do that and the irony is that talking about out feelings (even when we don’t understand them) is what helps us to understand them better.
Glad the post resonated with you and hope to see you around here in the comments section more often!
This is so good. So, so, so good.
Thanks Annie! Glad you liked it.