In Partnership with Hinge
I haven’t always been on the most familiar terms with my feelings. I knew about them, of course- but in a vague, distant relative-y type of way. They were cousins that I didn’t like much. Uncles that I hoped not to see at family dos. Nieces that I- well, you get the picture.
When it came to matters of love and dating, I thought of my feelings as complicating little distractions, and so I shunned them. There were entire relationships where I barely told myself how I felt, let alone the person I was with. My thesis was this: I would secure love by being easy-going and cool, by pretending I wasn’t [insert so-called “negative” emotion] when I absolutely was [insert so-called “negative” emotion] and by filing away my true needs and wants in a brain-drawer labelled Absolutely Confidential.
Anyway, it obviously didn’t work. Whether I liked it or not, my feelings weren’t there to piss me off or make problems. It took several entanglements falling apart in the most frustrating ways and one serious relationship ending after months of me trying to force my feelings of dissatisfaction into submission, but eventually I had to come home to a new way of seeing my emotions. They were just messengers – delivering inarguable and non-negotiable information about my wants, needs, values, desires and opinions. So, all there was to it was to learn how to open my mouth and make myself known.
When you’re afraid to truly show up as yourself in words or actions, you can end up mirroring the person you’re dating – consciously or not. If they like going with the flow and hate talking about feelings, then you might pretend you’re the same way inclined, even if in reality that gives you a stomach ache and a splitting headache behind one eyeball. This isn’t real love at its best, nor is it a situation where love can really even get going. Eventually, the truth of who you are and what you’re feeling will arrive in full force.
When you’re afraid to truly show up as yourself in words or actions, you can end up mirroring the person you’re dating – consciously or not. Eventually, the truth of who you are and what you’re feeling will arrive in full force
In the past I’ve struggled to open up about difficult moments from my dating history, my mental illness, my abandonment fears. But I’ve also struggled to say smaller and sweeter truths, too. “I like you” and “this is really fun” and “I can see a future here”. It’s only now, from the hard-won vantage point of a loving relationship, that I can see what I was costing myself each time I held back. A chance to be truly known, to build a relationship around my needs, to offer my true feelings up like a gift to the person that had made them happen.
As with so many things, it’s a good idea to take this slow until you feel more at home in the idea and more able to trust your instincts. Start small. If your knee-jerk reaction is to play down your emotions when put on the spot, then practice telling the person you’re with that you need some time and space to think before you share. You can then use that time to organise your feelings on paper, or in a Word doc or talk about them to someone you trust who you know is a practised feelings-sayer.
You can also start by taking smaller, more controlled risks and opening up little by little, emotional inch by emotional inch. This could look like sharing an honest opinion of the film you just watched, or the experimental flaming trout and vodka cocktail you ordered at the bar after. This is a low-stakes way to practice expressing what you really think and feel instead of what you think they want to hear. Tune back into your own tastes and opinions and remind yourself that disagreement or difference of opinion doesn’t need to be a disaster.
It’s also totally normal to worry that sharing your feelings will result in a rejection, that they’ll be too much or too odd or too hard to contend with. But in fact, this tends to only be the case for people who aren’t totally right for you anyway. How does that saying go? To be loved is to be known. Yeah – that!
It’s also totally normal to worry that sharing your feelings will result in a rejection, that they’ll be too much or too odd or too hard to contend with. But in fact, this tends to only be the case for people who aren’t totally right for you anyway
This isn’t to say that every single thought or feeling has to be shared. A great relationship isn’t a never-ending exchange of every doubt or difficult emotion or question that comes up throughout the day (you’d never get anything else done) - it’s knowing that when it is time to share, you’re not going to find yourself on the receiving end of shame or suppression. So be discerning, but also be brave. If something really is bothering you or there’s important information that you suspect the other person isn’t aware of, then that’s your sign to calmly bring it up.
Remember too that having someone be willing to make time and space for your feelings isn’t a ’nice to have’ – it’s a necessity. They’re not doing you a favour; they’re just participating in the relationship. My current partner has been excellent at meeting me halfway in this kind of feeling-exchange. When I was finding the long-distance element of our relationship hard, we sat down and found a solution together. When my Seasonal Affective Disorder flared up over the winter, he stepped in to support me and then later, when I felt better, he told me how it had felt for him.
Now at 33 – an age that feels both incredibly young and also a million miles from my first formative relationships – I’ve realised that there’s really nothing else for it but to make an effort to know your feelings and find ways to share them with others. Doing so can be scary, but it will also allow your genuine wants and needs to flourish and will let you cease performing as anyone other than yourself. Speaking from experience, there isn’t much that feels better.