The emotional hangover…

I shared this quote on my page today.

It’s taken me a long time to find words for this feeling.

In some situations I hold my tongue because I know the truth will sting. So I let things slide, and slide, and slide, until I can’t tolerate it anymore and I finally speak up. And when I do, even if I say it calmly and kindly, I end up feeling flat and heavy inside.

It’s always been a tug of war in me. I know I’ve done the right thing, but I also know I’ve probably hurt someone’s feelings. And even when I can sense they’re thinking less of me for daring to say it, I still feel for them. I still want them to be okay.

I learned how to say the hard thing. What I never learned was how to sit with the feeling that comes after.

I’m starting to understand that the guilt isn’t there because I was wrong. It’s there because my whole system is used to keeping the peace at my own expense. When I don’t do that, when I choose honesty and a boundary instead, my body reacts like something bad has happened.

That shaky, ‘oh no, what have I done’ feeling is the ghost of the old survival mode, the version of me that stayed safe by smoothing everything over. The version that believed everyone else’s comfort was my responsibility.

The newer version of me is learning that other people’s discomfort is not an emergency I have to fix.

So that emotional hangover afterwards isn’t proof I went too far. It’s proof I didn’t abandon myself.

It’s the growing pain of doing the right thing, in a way I was never allowed to before.

This isn’t me pretending I’m perfect or always right. Most of the time I wish I didn’t have to say anything at all. I’d rather keep the peace than be the one who makes things uncomfortable. But sometimes the silence starts to cost more than the truth. And that’s usually how I end up there.