Having children will force you to confront emotions you didn’t even know you’d buried. Their angry outbursts, their irrational tears, their pure joy over the smallest things - they hold up a mirror to everything we’ve learned (or never learned) about feelings. The more I speak to other parents, the more I realise how many of us grew up without emotional regulation. Our feelings were often dismissed, we were told to stop crying, to calm down, to be grateful, to move on. We were not taught how to sit with sadness, how to name anger, or how to express disappointment. We learned to suppress, to cope, to get on with it.
Maybe that’s why so many millennial parents are obsessed with gentle parenting. We’re not just trying to raise emotionally intelligent children, we’re trying to heal our own inner child in the process.
I once tried to talk to my father about this, about how I was never really allowed to cry as a child. His response was simple: “Well, you wouldn’t be the strong, successful woman you are if I had let you cry.” And I know he meant it as a compliment. His generation equated emotional suppression with resilience. But the truth is, we’ll never know who I might’ve been if I had learned to cry safely; to express without shame, to feel without fear. What I do know is that I wouldn’t have reached a point of such deep depression and emotional collapse that I wished my life away just to find peace.
If I had learned to feel, I might not have had to break to learn how to heal.
Acknowledging, accepting, and releasing emotions isn’t weakness - it’s the work of courage. It’s also a privilege, one our parents and grandparents rarely had. For them, survival came first. There was no time, space, or vocabulary for emotional healing. But now, we do have that chance. It might feel uncomfortable. It might feel indulgent. It might even feel expensive - especially when therapy, coaching, or counselling are added to the mix - but it’s worth every moment. There are also ways to start for free: through books, podcasts, journaling, prayer, breath work, or just giving yourself permission to sit in stillness.
Because emotions don’t disappear just because we ignore them. They sit quietly, waiting, until one day they erupt through rage, burnout, anxiety, or depression. The longer we suppress them, the more power they gain.
Emotions have even been thought to cause physical illnesses - "When the Body Says No" by Gabor Mate is a really interesting read on this and pushed me to continue healing, despite how difficult it felt, because unprocessed emotions will find another way to be released if we don't do it willingly.
For me, learning to schedule time for my emotions has been life-changing. I know that sounds strange - but creating space to cry, to grieve, to journal, or to simply sit in silence has made me more resilient. I release before I overflow. I choose when to feel, rather than waiting until I’m forced to. And in doing so, I’ve become more objective when real challenges arise. I’m no longer scared of my own sadness. I understand it’s temporary. That it’s simply energy - moving through.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Acknowledge what you feel. Don’t run from it. Give your emotions a name - sadness, anger, envy, joy, grief. Naming them takes away their power to control you. Why do you feel like this? Is is a rational emotional or one built on a naive child hood experience?
Accept them without shame. You are allowed to feel what you feel. Emotions are data, not weakness. Question your emotions too - is this how your naturally feel in response to the situation or is the emotion you choosing this or is this something you have been taught to feel (especially true if the emotion your feeling is shame or guilt which are normally associated with cultural and social beliefs).
Release them intentionally. Cry if you need to. Journal. Move your body. Talk to someone safe. Pray. Don’t let your emotions live rent-free inside you.
Motherhood is the ultimate emotional mirror. It reflects back every part of us we’ve tried to silence. When our children cry, we learn to comfort - and in doing so, we learn how to comfort the child we once were.
So let your emotions come - without judgment. Cry when you need to. Feel your anger, your grief, your joy. It’s not indulgent. It’s not selfish. It’s survival.
You don’t need to be stoic to be strong. You just need to be honest.
And when you start to feel again - really feel - you’ll find that you’re not breaking down at all. You’re finally breaking open.
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