Embracing Emotion – Processing Our Feelings Instead of Fixing Them
Hello Lovely Souls,
Let’s jump right in.
I talk a lot about making space for emotions—feeling them, processing them—but what does that really mean? Often, what we’re actually doing is thinking about our feelings. We analyze them. We judge them. We try to solve them.
But thinking our way through a feeling isn’t the same as feeling it.
And when we resist our emotions—by overthinking, judging, or pushing them away—we often make them louder. That resistance adds a second layer of suffering: not just the pain itself, but the belief that we shouldn’t be feeling it.
Let me ask: if you share your frustration with a friend, do you find it helpful when they jump in to fix it? Or when they tell you to look on the bright side? Probably not. Most of us aren’t looking for solutions in that moment—we want presence. We want someone to hold space, to witness our experience without trying to change it.
And that’s exactly what we need to practice for ourselves.
Processing our emotions isn’t about getting rid of them. And while emotions are messengers that carry valuable insight, the goal isn’t to solve them. The practices I share—whether here, in coaching, or in workshops—aren’t about bypassing our pain. They’re about building the capacity to stay with ourselves gently, compassionately, and fully. Because the truth is: it’s not the emotion itself that hurts the most. It’s the tension, judgment, and resistance around it that often creates more suffering than the feeling itself.
That’s where the body comes in. When we shift from analyzing or overthinking to actually feeling our emotions—through physical sensation—we open the door to integration and healing.
Here's one way I approach it:
Take a slow breath in through your nose. Exhale even more slowly through your mouth. Let your nervous system know: it’s safe to slow down.
Close your eyes if it feels safe to do so. Allow yourself to turn inward.
Ask, What sensations can I notice in my body? Is there tightness in your chest? A lump in your throat? Tension in your stomach? A fluttering in your belly? Or heat in your face?
If it feels like too much, pendulate to a neutral or calming sensation. This could be the feeling of your feet on the floor, the texture of your clothing, or the rhythm of your breath. (Pendulation is a tool that helps calm the nervous system by gently moving between discomfort and a sense of groundedness. It allows us to stay connected without becoming overwhelmed.)
When you're ready, return to the uncomfortable sensation. Just notice it. No need to fix or change it. I sometimes even speak to it softly: “Hi. I see you. You’re allowed to be here.”
If it needs more space, visualize it expanding with each exhale—like you’re slowly filling a balloon. Don’t worry, the balloon won’t burst—it can hold all of the emotion you’re feeling. This can help externalize the emotion so it doesn’t feel like it’s consuming you. You’re not bottling it up— you’re letting it be, breath by breath, until it naturally shifts or settles. Once the balloon is as full as it needs to be, imagine gently letting it float up into the sky.
Place a hand on your heart, or anywhere that feels grounding, and gently say: “I’m here with you.” Let yourself feel the warmth of that contact. Let it be a reminder—you are not abandoning yourself.
By giving our body permission to feel, we build a safer and stronger connection with ourselves. We stop burying, hiding, and running.
We start returning.
Once the intensity has softened, it’s tempting to move on—but this is the moment to stay curious.
You might ask:
“What did that feeling remind me of?”
“Have I felt this before?”
“What story have I attached to this sensation?”
This isn’t about analyzing your way out of the emotion. It’s about learning how to stay with it—how to welcome it, listen to it, and integrate it. When we do that, we reclaim the parts of us we once pushed away. We come home to something deeper.
We live in a world that rewards staying in our heads. But the cost is steep—disconnection, burnout, and chronic self-abandonment.
You might think you don’t have time for this kind of inner work.
But I’d gently ask: how much time and energy is it costing you not to?
You’re not broken for having emotions that feel big or messy. You’re human. And every time you choose to stay instead of abandon yourself—with one breath, one gentle pause—you return.
This is the kind of work I support clients with every day—coming home to themselves, one moment at a time. If you’re curious about that journey, I’m here to walk alongside you. You don’t have to do it alone.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
