12/18/2025
I grew up in poverty and in a conflict-avoidant household, which meant there was zero space for big feelings. Survival came first. Keep the peace. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t upset anyone who’s already hanging on by a thread. Emotions were a liability, not a language.
For a big-hearted, sensitive, overthinker like me, that was brutal. I felt everything and was allowed to express almost nothing. So I did what a lot of us do: I learned to mask like a pro. I became hyper-attuned to everyone else’s moods, needs, and tones. I figured out how to be “easy,” “helpful,” “fine.” My outsides were calm and agreeable. My insides were a roaring ocean with the mute button smashed down.
As I got older, I started breaking patterns. I worked my ass off to change the parts of my lineage that were hurting everyone: the poverty, the alcoholism, the abuse, the unhealthy relationship dynamics. I built a different kind of life—safer, kinder, more stable. But here’s the thing I didn’t notice at first: I did most of that with my full self… locked up tight. Big emotions kept contained. Nervous system clenched. Heart heavily guarded.
Now, in my 40s, the work looks different. I’m learning how to actually live in my body, not just drag it along behind my brain. I’m learning how to feel my emotions in real time instead of analyzing them from a safe intellectual distance. I’m learning how to be fully present—sensory, tender, honest—without automatically bracing for impact.
It has been challenging and messy. There have been ugly cries, hard conversations, shutdowns, repairs, and so many moments where I thought, “It would be easier to just go numb again.” But it has also been unbelievably rewarding.
Because for the first time, I’m not just surviving my life. I’m actually in it. With my big emotions. With my sensitive, autistic, overthinking brain. With my whole heart.
And as hard as it’s been, I wouldn’t go back to the muted version of me for anything.
