Learning to Ride the Wave

It’s no secret that I believe emotions and having a good relationship with them is important. I’ve shared parts of my own story, my experiences and struggles with emotions from time to time too, because I think it can help others relate and hopefully, it provides some hope that there’s a lot of room for growth (I’ve certainly come a long way).

 

But I would like to share my full story now, to help you see just how impactful our emotions can be and just how far we can come in developing a better relationship with them. I believe being open to feeling and processing our feelings is something that is vital for our own healing and also something that will help heal a fractured culture as a whole. But to be open to it, we have to know how to do it and where to start…

 

Almost exactly 6 years ago, in January of 2017, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. The news rocked me to the core, and I had no idea where to even begin to process the diagnosis. At that point in my life, it was a rare occasion that I allowed myself to feel anything. My relationship with my emotions was nonexistent – I avoided them at all cost, I had poor emotional literacy, and I had no clue that there was a connection between our emotions and our bodies.

 

I do remember maybe a month or so after my parents told me the news, I collapsed in my apartment and cried hysterically for about 10 minutes. It had taken that long for the feelings to build up to a point where I had no choice but to let them out. But that was it. I cried my tears, and that was my only emotional release for quite some time. I remember around that time, my face began breaking out uncontrollably, something I hadn’t dealt with since I was a teenager. I also recall being extremely irritable… I probably was not a joy to be around as a friend or coworker. I would take out some anger in the gym, pushing myself to a physical breaking point in my workouts, but that was about as things went emotionally. At that time, I wasn’t connecting the dots between the emotional weight I was carrying and the physical manifestations and how my relationships were being impacted.

 

About 6 months after my mom’s diagnosis, I was in a new relationship and was head over heels in love. At first it seemed like such a blessing to have that kind of support and companionship in my life during such a difficult time. But several months into that relationship, things took a sharp turn. I was put on an emotional roller coaster, and instead of just walking away, I held on for dear life. What had seemed so wonderful at first became manipulative and at times cruel, and so blinded by it all, I thought it was my fault that things weren’t working out… there had to be something wrong with me.

 

As I held on to that relationship for dear life and for way too long, the compound effect of it and everything I was struggling with as my mom underwent chemo became too much for me to handle. I was constantly worried, anxious, depressed, and feeling emotions I had never recalled experiencing before… and they felt larger than life. I was drowning in them. The emotions were starting to manifest physically too. I was gaining weight for reasons I couldn't understand, and I was also having severe allergic reactions I'd never experienced before.

 

Up until this point, I had been able to suppress whatever was uncomfortable. If emotions were water, I had built an impressive dam to keep them from impacting me. But we all know what happens when too much pressure is put on a dam.

 

By some miracle, I could see the water trickling through the cracks before the dam broke. I knew I had to do things differently than I had ever done them before. I had to allow myself to feel these enormous feelings before they caused irreversible damage.

 

I wasn’t sure where to start, but I figured beginning with the opposite of what I had done in the past couldn’t hurt. What if I just allowed myself to feel? Somewhat inherently, I knew I should start small and in a place that felt safe. I remember getting into the shower one day and telling myself, “ok, you’re safe to let some of this out.” In a space that felt private and safe, I allowed myself to feel the pain that was present. I just stood there and let it be, as the water washed over me. I felt it in my body. I tried breathing through the discomfort. I let the tears flow from my eyes and the anguish and despair pass through my lips out into the open. I continued doing this every day, and one day, one shower at a time, I dipped into the deep well of pain within me, releasing the reservoir of emotions I had been holding inside.

 

I didn’t feel noticeably better after the first time, but I persisted. I continued to allow myself to feel, to process and move the emotions that were there, and in time I felt different. The heaviness I carried felt lighter. The thoughts and emotions that previously swirled almost endlessly inside of my head were significantly more quiet and less burdensome. I felt more free and more open, like for the first time, I was allowing the emotions that bubbled up within me to move through me, instead of weighing me down.

 

If you go back to the analogy of the water, there are two ways we can handle deep, rough waters. We can resist it, fight it… but we all know what happens when we go against the current – the water eventually wins. The other option is to surrender. When we surrender, we are free to ride the wave. We can be carried with the current, and eventually we can ride that wave all the way until we are safely to shore.

 

Once I stopped resisting my feelings and allowed myself to ride the wave of my emotions, I realized while they were big and sometimes scary, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what I had built up in my mind. The pain, while sometimes intense, was just temporary, and I felt SO much better than I had in my many years of resisting my feelings.

 

I also gained so much mental clarity once I allowed myself to process my feelings, and found it so much easier to listen to and trust my intuition. Freeing my mind from the constant swirling of thoughts and feelings from the emotions I had been holding onto made it so much easier to see clearly and make sound decisions. I think it’s partly what helped me find the clarity and strength to get myself out of an abusive relationship (along with a lot of intensive healing work and support from family and friends).

 

In August 2019, my mom lost her battle with breast cancer. Grief is an emotion like no other, and honestly, it’s hard for me to describe. It comes in waves that will hit at the most unpredictable of times, evoking the deepest of pain. It has no time line, and there is no way around it… just through it. What I do know is this – learning to process my emotions when I did was of divine timing. I don’t think I would have survived losing my mom if I hadn’t learned to surrender to my emotions in the few years before her death. Trying to resist something as big and complex as grief would have destroyed me… I have no doubt. I always remind myself of this when I need reassurance of God’s perfect timing.

 

Since learning this invaluable life lesson, I’ve become incredibly passionate about teaching others what I’ve learned about emotions. I know my relationship with my feelings wasn’t unique or something I alone struggle with. Most of us avoid our feelings and will go to great lengths to hide from them, something that typically ends up causing much more pain and damage than the discomfort we were trying to avoid.

 

What I want you to know is this: you were created to feel. God created us to experience the full spectrum of feelings and to be in a relationship with those feelings where we allow them to move through us freely. You are equipped for this! Most of us have just forgotten how to do it. Relearning can take a little time and consistent effort, but I promise you this: life on the other side is so much easier. It’s a life with less worry, less anxiety, less overwhelm and burden, less resistance, and every life experience becomes richer when you allow yourself to fully FEEL. You CAN do it, and you do not have to do it alone. You were made to ride the wave.