Empower Your Journey: Mastering Emotional Language for Growth

A wildly colorful background with a jumble of various emoji faces all showing different emotions such as anger, shock, sadness, love, and disgust.

Have you ever played the game Two Truths and a Lie? It’s simple: you share three statements about yourself—two true, one false—and everyone guesses which is the lie. It’s a fun icebreaker, but it got me thinking about the many truths and lies we hold about ourselves, especially when it comes to our emotions.

Life is full of layers. We don’t just hold one truth at a time, nor do we feel just one emotion at a time. Yet, many of us fall into the trap of believing that our emotions are singular and straightforward. This belief, as comforting as it might seem, is a lie we tell ourselves—a lie that often oversimplifies our complex emotional experiences.

The Lie: “I Can Only Feel One Thing”

If emotions came neatly packaged—one at a time—life might feel easier to navigate. But emotions don’t work that way. They are messy, overlapping, and sometimes even contradictory. However, because we often feel overwhelmed or lack the tools to process our feelings, we tend to latch onto the strongest one and treat it as the only thing we’re experiencing.

Think of a moment when you were angry. Anger, as powerful as it is, might have been masking fear, hurt, or even shame. But if you only focused on the anger, you probably acted on it, potentially missing the deeper story underneath.

For a long time, this was my reality. I believed my strongest emotion at any given moment was the only one that mattered. It wasn’t intentional—it’s how many of us are taught to think about feelings. It’s easier to react to anger than to sit with the discomfort of realizing it might be tied to fear or sadness. But that habit left me stuck in patterns that didn’t serve me.

Learning to Hold Multiple Truths

My journey toward emotional awareness didn’t happen overnight. In fact, it didn’t truly begin until my husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Caring for him during hospice forced me to confront emotions I’d never allowed myself to explore. I was heartbroken, yes, but I also felt gratitude for the time we had left. I was devastated by anticipatory grief, but I also felt honored to care for him in his final moments.

Had I stopped at just one feeling—grief—I would have missed the beauty in those fleeting moments of connection. By learning to sit with all my emotions, even when they seemed to contradict each other, I was able to create precious memories that I carry with me to this day.

This was not a skill I was born with. It took effort, guidance, and mindfulness to develop. I learned to breathe through my emotions, name them, and accept them as existing together rather than separately. It was uncomfortable at first, but over time, it became one of the most transformative practices of my life.

A Late-Life Diagnosis and Emotional Growth

After my husband passed, my world felt upside down. My children, both of whom are autistic, were navigating their own paths, and I was rediscovering who I was outside of caregiving. During this time, my oldest was diagnosed with autism as an adult, and through that lens, I began to see myself more clearly.

Like many late-diagnosed neurodivergent people, I experienced a flood of emotions: relief, sadness, confusion, and anger at the systems that failed to recognize this earlier. For years, I’d masked my emotions to fit into a world that wasn’t designed for me, a skill many neurodivergent people learn out of necessity. But unmasking meant peeling back those layers and learning to hold space for all the emotions I had suppressed.

This process wasn’t easy. I often felt overwhelmed by the sheer volume of feelings that emerged. But the lessons I learned during my husband’s hospice care became invaluable. I realized that my emotions—no matter how big or conflicting—were valid. Naming and accepting them allowed me to respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively.

Applying Emotional Awareness to Everyday Life

You might be wondering, “Okay, this makes sense in intense situations like hospice care, but what about regular, day-to-day emotions?”

The truth is, this skill applies to everything. Picture yourself in a tense meeting. Someone says something that sparks anger. Maybe that anger stems from feeling dismissed or invisible. Maybe it’s tied to fear of an impending change. If you only acknowledge the anger, your reaction might be sharp and defensive. But if you take a moment to notice the fear or hurt underneath, your response might shift. You could choose to speak from a place of vulnerability instead of reactivity, leading to a better outcome for everyone involved.

This practice has profoundly shaped my interactions, not just with others but with myself. As a neurodivergent person, I often experience emotions intensely and sometimes struggle to regulate them. Learning to hold multiple truths about my feelings has been a game-changer. It’s helped me approach challenges with curiosity rather than judgment and allowed me to navigate life with greater self-compassion.

Building the Skill

If you’re thinking, “That sounds great, but I don’t have time to pause and analyze my emotions,” I get it. Life is busy. But this doesn’t have to be an all-or-nothing process. Start small:

  1. Pause and Breathe
    When a strong emotion arises, take a deep breath (or a few). This simple act creates a moment of space between the feeling and your reaction.
  2. Name Your Emotions
    Try to identify not just the primary emotion (e.g., anger) but any secondary ones (e.g., fear, hurt, shame). Don’t judge them—just acknowledge them.
  3. Accept Contradictions
    It’s okay to feel joy and sadness at the same time. Emotions are not mutually exclusive. The more you practice sitting with conflicting feelings, the easier it becomes.
  4. Choose Your Response
    Once you’ve identified your emotions, consider how they influence your reaction. Are you responding from a place of clarity or reactivity?

Moving Forward

Learning to hold multiple truths about my emotions has been one of the most liberating experiences of my life. It’s helped me navigate grief, embrace my neurodivergence, and find joy in the complexity of being human. This practice isn’t about perfection; it’s about curiosity and growth.

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by your emotions or stuck in patterns that don’t serve you, I encourage you to try this. Start small, be patient with yourself, and remember: your emotions—no matter how big, small, or contradictory—are valid. When you learn to hold them all, you open yourself up to a richer, more compassionate experience of life.