Funny story about how this article came about.

The other day I was chatting with a friend who is not a psychologist. I don’t have many friends (by choice, do not judge!), and even fewer who aren’t in the mental health space… so this already felt like a novelty. She said, “If one more person tells me to feel my feelings, I swear to God I’m going to [insert colourful language here] lose it.

**I laughed and asked, “Okay, but what does *‘feeling your feelings’* even mean to you?”**

Cue the eye-rolls. And, there were were many!
That’s when I kinda realised: Most people have heard the phrase, but they don’t actually know what it means. Or why it matters.
Honestly… this might have to be a series. So, buckle up.

Why “feeling your feelings” is easier said than done..

Many of us were taught to "toughen up," "stop crying," or "not make a scene." As a result, our emotions were often ignored, punished, or made to feel like a problem. Maybe you never saw an adult model what it looks like to feel big feelings in a safe way.

So now, when emotions like sadness or shame show up, your first reaction might be to hide it, shut down, or pretend it’s not there.

And there are lots of reasons for this. But, one of them is if your emotional needs were ignored or misunderstood growing up, your brain did what it had to do: it protected you. It adapted by pushing feelings down or tuning them out. This was a smart, protective, and adaptive response. It kept you safe in childhood.

But over time, these coping habits become automatic… Your brain’s default (automatic) neural pathway. So now, we say things like:

“I’m not allowed to feel.”
”Emotions make me weak.”
”No one will comfort me.”
”No one’s going to help me anyway.”

And now, when you try to sit with emotion as an adult, your brain doesn’t know how to. It’s not used to staying in the pause. It wants to do what it has learnt a long time ago… it wants escape, shut down, or over-function. You might dissociate, fawn, avoid, or overanalyse.

But why does this feel so hard?

Because for many of us, feeling our feelings never felt safe. If you grew up feeling like you had to make everyone else happy, like no one really saw you, or like something was just wrong with you then often emotions don’t feel natural. They feel unfamiliar and dangerous. So, we say things like:

“No one will get it anyway.”
”Don’t make it a big deal.”
”You’re too much.”

So you push it all down, keep going and power through.

Which brings me to the neuroscience part.

**So… what does “sitting with emotion” actually mean?**

When someone says “sit with your emotions,” I get the eye-rolls. It sounds like vague, fluffy, Instagram advice. But neuroscience actually gives it a more solid definition.

“*Sitting with your emotions*” means staying with a feeling **long** enough for your brain to:

• Recognise it
• Regulate it
• And eventually integrate it
BUT, it’s not just “feeling things.” It’s a full-body, full-brain experience of **staying present**, **on purpose**. Let me break it down.

You’re staying with the amygdala activation, not against it

What does that even mean, Selma?

Okay. When a difficult emotion arises (like shame, grief, or anger), your amygdala (a tiny almond-shaped part of the brain) fires up like an emotional smoke alarm. It basically screams (well, through hormones and stress chemicals), “This is unsafe! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

But when you sit with the emotion, you’re not running from it, denying it, or repressing it by:

Numbing (scrolling on your device, binge eating, overeating, watching pornography, using drugs and alcohol)
Avoiding (staying busy, working more)
Fighting (lashing out, blaming others)
Fawning (people-pleasing, over-apologising)

You’re simply pausing. Creating emotional space in the pause. You’re saying to your brain, “This isn’t an emergency. I can stay.” And, THAT pause creates emotional distance… and over time, that distance rewires the association between feeling and danger.

You’re bringing the prefrontal cortex back online

The prefrontal cortex which is the part of your brain that helps you reflect, use words, and self-soothe gets shut down when your amygdala is working too hard (as described above).
That means:
• You can’t think clearly
• You can’t calm yourself easily
• You feel like you’re *all emotion, no anchor*
And if you have a trauma history, this gets even trickier. Your brain’s **neuroception** (your internal threat radar) can misread emotions like sadness or vulnerability as dangerous even when there’s no real danger in the present.
When you name the emotion (even something as simple as “part of me feels sad”), you activate your prefrontal cortex, especially the *ventromedial* part. This part of the brain:
Helps regulate the amygdala
Supports impulse control (e.g., not texting your ex or rage-quitting work… true story, both happened!)
Allows reflection (e.g., “I’ve felt like this before and I got through it”)
It’s like bringing in a calm, wise adult part of yourself and one who can say, **“I can handle this.”**

You’re calming the nervous system

When you breathe slowly and stay in your body while feeling the emotion, you activate the parasympathetic nervous system (aka your rest and digest mode). This helps slow your heart rate, reduce cortisol, and create a felt sense of safety. For example, a long exhale or placing your hand on your chest while breathing can send a strong message to your nervous system: “We’re safe. We’re here. We’re okay.” This kind of co-regulation with self is something many people with trauma backgrounds never got to experience in childhood.

You’re building interoceptive awareness

Sitting with emotions often means noticing what’s happening in your body. Maybe your chest is tight? A lump in your throat? Butterflies in your stomach? This awareness of what is happening in your body is called interoception. And, it’s mostly handled by the insula which is the part of your brain that helps link body sensations to emotional meaning.

Why does this matter, Selma, you might ask…

Because many people with lived trauma experiences often feel disconnected from their bodies. They dissociate, numb out, or stay in their heads. Interoception makes sure that we do not ignore our body messages matter any longer.”

It helps:
• Differentiate emotions (e.g., “This isn’t anger. It’s fear”)
• Deepen self-awareness (e.g., “I’m safe now, even though I feel activated and inflamed”)
• Rebuild trust with your own signals.

You’re creating new neural pathways through neuroplasticity

Every time you stay present with a feeling (instead of avoiding, numbing, or reacting), you’re re-training your brain. You’re weakening old, survival-based circuits and strengthening new ones. As we rewire the new neural pathways, we are naming the emotion (“This is sadness”), breathing and staying in the body. AND, most importantly, we are offering ourselves compassion and curiosity.

Why do emotions can feel like physical danger?

I think that the wildest part needs to be brought to your attention: When you feel big emotions (e.g., shame, grief, or rejection), your brain lights up in the similar areas as it does when you feel physical pain especially a part called the anterior cingulate cortex and the insula (Check this study out!). In other words, your brain says: “Eeeehm, what are you doing? This is unsafe, get out now.”

And just like that, your amygdala (see above) kicks in. It cranks up your heart rate, dumps lots of cortisol and adrenaline into your body, shuts down reflective thinking, and throws you into do something now! mode (not the sit and feel mode!). So if you’ve ever tried to “sit with your feelings” and felt totally flooded (like you were drowning in them) let me gently remind you:

You’re not doing it wrong.
You’re not weak.
You’re not dramatic.

Your nervous system is doing exactly what it was designed to do. (But here’s the good news: you can train your brain to tolerate more emotion, with practice. More on that soon… because like I said, this might have to be a series.