When Avoiding Our Feelings Makes Them Louder. 4.10.26

One of the things I identified in my last blog was how avoidance can temporarily make people feel better. But in the long-term avoiding our feelings often makes them louder. I would like to expand further on this by exploring what if the feeling is not really the enemy.

Over the years of working with clients, I have become increasingly interested in what happens when we try not to feel something.

It is something I see regularly. A client may come to therapy feeling anxious, overwhelmed, stuck or exhausted, and when we begin to explore what is happening underneath, we often find there is a feeling they have been working very hard not to experience. It might be grief. It might be shame. It might be anger, fear, disappointment or loneliness.

Sometimes the avoidance is obvious. Keeping busy, working long hours, constantly distracting ourselves, scrolling on our phones or finding reasons not to be alone with our thoughts. Sometimes it is much more subtle.

We might intellectualise what has happened rather than connect with how it feels. We might tell ourselves that we "should be over it by now". We might minimise what has happened because "other people have it worse". Or we might repeatedly analyse a situation in our heads, hoping that if we can just understand it enough, the feeling will go away.

And I think this is important to say: there is nothing wrong with wanting to feel better. Avoidance usually develops for a reason. Often, it is our way of protecting ourselves from something that at some point felt too painful, frightening or overwhelming to experience. The difficulty is that what protects us in the short term can sometimes begin to limit us in the longer term.

A skill I encourage a lot is the use of ‘curiosity’. So let’s explore it further and see what it may offer.

Becoming curious about what the emotion is doing

I have found that curiosity can be much more helpful than trying to force an emotion to change.

Rather than asking: "How do I get rid of this anxiety?" we might ask:

"What is this anxiety trying to do for me?"

Rather than: "Why am I still angry?" perhaps:

"I wonder what this anger is protecting?"

Sometimes an emotion has a protective purpose. Anxiety might be trying to prepare us for danger. Perfectionism might be trying to protect us from criticism or failure. Anger might be protecting something more vulnerable underneath it. Withdrawal might be protecting us from rejection. Shame might be trying, in its own way, to stop us from doing something that could lead to further rejection or hurt.

That doesn't mean we have to agree with the emotion or allow it to dictate our behaviour. But I think there is something valuable in becoming curious about why it is there. Instead of fighting against ourselves, we begin to listen.

Bringing the emotion into the body

Something I increasingly use in my work is bringing attention away from the story for a moment and towards the body. This can be surprisingly helpful. When we are anxious, for example, we can spend a huge amount of time thinking about the thing we are anxious about.

What if this happens? What if they think this? What if I can't cope?

What if something goes wrong?

The mind can keep generating more and more material.

So sometimes I invite clients to pause and ask:

"Where do you notice the anxiety in your body?"

Perhaps there is a tightness in the chest. A knot in the stomach. Tension in the shoulders. There isn't a right answer. The aim is simply to notice.

What does the sensation feel like? Is it moving or still? Has it got a shape?

Is it getting stronger or softer? What happens if you breathe while staying with the sensation? I sometimes encourage clients to imagine that they are gently interviewing that part of their body.

"What are you trying to tell me?" "What are you trying to protect me from?"

"What are you worried might happen?" "What do you need me to know?"

For me, this is less about finding a perfect answer and more about changing the relationship we have with the feeling. We move from fighting it to listening to it.

A simple somatic check-in

If you want to experiment with this yourself, try stopping for a minute when you notice a difficult emotion. Rather than immediately distracting yourself, take a breath and notice:

What am I feeling? Where do I feel it in my body? What does the sensation actually feel like? Can I stay with it for three breaths without needing to change it?

Then notice what happens. Maybe the sensation changes. Maybe it doesn't.

Maybe another emotion appears. Maybe you become aware that underneath the anger is sadness. Or underneath the anxiety is fear. Or underneath the shame is a longing to be accepted. There is no need to force an outcome. The practice is simply noticing.

Finding a more accurate language for our emotions

Another approach I use with clients is exploring the language we have for our emotions. We can often say, "I feel bad," or "I'm stressed," without really knowing what the emotional experience is. But there can be quite a difference between feeling disappointed and feeling rejected. Between frustration and anger. Between embarrassment and shame. Between loneliness and grief. Between fear and dread.

I often use different feeling wheels with clients, including the Gottman Feeling Wheel, as a way of helping them explore some of these distinctions.

Sometimes finding the right word can be surprisingly powerful.

"Actually, I'm not angry. I'm hurt." "I'm not just stressed. I'm frightened about what might happen." "I'm not failing. I'm grieving something I had really hoped for."

Putting language around an experience doesn't necessarily make it disappear. But it can make something that felt vague and overwhelming a little more understandable. And what we can understand can sometimes feel easier to hold.

If you need any further support, please contact me at mandy@knowlimitscoach.com

And my poem ‘Tears and Rainbows’ can be found @mandygutsell5940

I offer supportive strategies to honour the past, accept the present and look to the future with peace of mind.

Click Here to head over to our YouTube reading of this Poem.