You are not protecting yourself, you are disappearing.

What happens when we avoid our feelings? Here’s three things I discuss with clients to help them get back to themselves.

There is a moment most of us know. Something happens, something horrible, difficult, something that stings and instead of letting it land, we push it down. We tell ourselves we're being strong. Practical. We don't have time for this. We keep going, we keep busy.

It feels like self-protection. But it is something else entirely.

As a Cognitive Behavioural Hypnotherapist and yoga teacher, I see people every week who have made a quiet, unconscious agreement with themselves: ‘feelings are dangerous, and it is better not to go there. There’s nothing to be gained by getting upset.’

They come in carrying tension in their shoulders, face and chest that have been there so long they have stopped noticing. They tell me, often quite matter-of-factly, that they don't really ‘do’ emotions. They've learned to cope. They're fine. 

I remember one client, a capable, warm person who had held it together through years of difficulty, who came to see me and was visibly uncomfortable in stillness. She said: "I don't like it when there's nothing to do. I start to feel things." She said it as though that were the problem. As though feeling was a threat.

To the same degree that she spent effort in ‘not feeling’, she spent effort worrying. She is not unusual. In fact, many of us are like this. 

When we suppress our emotions we train ourselves to feel less, to stay numb, to just get on with it. Although this feels sensible at the time, we are not actually keeping ourselves safe. We are making a quieter, more damaging decision for ourselves: that what we feel doesn’t matter. That we don’t matter.

And the body keeps score. The emotions we refuse to feel do not vanish, instead they go underground. They show up as a tightness in the chest, a low-level irritability we can't name, a flatness that settles over everything. We mistake this flatness for calm. But, it is not calm. It’s actually disconnection.

Here is what I want to offer as a different way of thinking about your emotions: they are not your enemies. They are not weaknesses, or inconveniences, or signs that something is wrong with you. They are messages, very personal ones. Your emotions tell you who to trust. They tell you what lights you up and what quietly drains you. They signal when something matters and when a boundary has been crossed. They are, in fact, one of the most sophisticated navigation systems you have.

So why are we so afraid of them?

Partly, it is learned. Many of us grew up in homes or cultures where emotion was equated with weakness, with drama, with loss of control. We absorbed the message early: hold it together. Be quiet. Don't make a fuss. And so we became very good at ‘not making a fuss, even at our own expense. On both small and bigger stuff. 

There is something else that goes alongside emotional suppression, and it is worth naming: low assertiveness. In my therapy room, I see this connection constantly. When we are not in touch with our own feelings, we lose access to our needs. And if we don't know what we need, how can we ask for it? We move through our relationships, at work, at home, in friendship, quietly hoping someone will notice, while telling ourselves it doesn't matter anyway. Honestly dear friend, it really does matter, because you matter.

The good news is that the path back to yourself doesn't require years of work or a dramatic life overhaul. It begins with small, deliberate acts of turning toward yourself rather than away. Here are three places to start.

1. Notice your patterns of thinking

Before feelings can be felt, they usually have to be found and they are often buried under a layer of unhelpful thought. I shouldn't feel this way. I'm being too sensitive. Just get over it. These are not neutral observations. They are small acts of self-dismissal. Start by simply noticing when you talk to yourself this way. You don't need to challenge it yet, just quietly notice and become aware. In yoga, we call this bearing witness. In therapy, we call it insight. Both begin the same way: with a moment of honest observation.

2. Give yourself space to feel

We live in a world built for distraction. There is always a screen, a podcast, a task that needs doing. But feelings need stillness to surface. A walk without headphones. A yoga class where you actually stay in savasana. A drive in silence. This is something I encourage in both my therapy and yoga work: not as a grand exercise in self-exploration, but simply as an experiment. What happens when you stop filling the space? Often, what surfaces is not the catastrophe we feared, it may just be something that needed to be acknowledged.

3. Give the feeling a voice

Feeling something is the beginning, expressing it is what completes the loop. This doesn't mean venting or oversharing. It means finding an honest outlet: writing in a journal without editing yourself, speaking to someone you trust, or channelling what you feel into something creative. When we name what we feel, even just on paper, even just to ourselves, we signal to our own nervous system: this is real, and I am willing to witness it. The very act of this, in itself, is a form of self-respect. And over time, it becomes the foundation for something even more powerful: knowing what you need, and feeling entitled to ask for it.

None of this is about becoming someone who leads with their feelings in every conversation, or who cries at every inconvenience. It is about something simpler and more radical: treating your inner world as something worth paying attention to.

Your emotions are not random noise. They are specific to you, shaped by everything you have lived through, everything you value, everything you are. They deserve your curiosity, not your contempt and certainly not your fear. 

You cannot ask to have your needs met if you don't know what they are. You cannot be truly present for others if you are absent from yourself. And you cannot protect yourself by disappearing.

Come back to yourself. It is quieter there than you expect and far safer than you fear. Find your kind mind for you.

About the Author

Jane Kirkup

HDip CBH, Dip Stress Mgmt, RYT 200

Certified Cognitive Behavioural Hypnotherapist & Stress Management Practitioner

I'm a certified Cognitive Behavioural Hypnotherapist with over 20 years of study and practice, bringing together therapeutic expertise with mind-body understanding. Before becoming a full-time therapist, I led teams and coached individuals in the business world. I understand the pressure of juggling too much, the weight of difficult relationships, and what it feels like when life moves at a relentless pace.

Your mind is designed to protect you, but sometimes we become stuck in patterns that no longer serve you - such as harsh self-criticism, constant worry and automatic negative thinking. I don't just address symptoms. Together, we explore the underlying patterns shaping your experience, building genuine resilience from a foundation of self-compassion.

I create a warm, non-judgmental space where you feel truly heard. You'll learn to notice when your inner voice becomes critical and discover how to replace harsh commentary with something kinder, not forced positivity, but real care and understanding.