In my feelings

To borrow from Drake, I’ve recently found myself in my feelings. While I haven’t resorted to dancing by the side of a moving car, I’ve been thinking about the unwritten rules of emotional expression.

British culture still treats feelings as something to be managed quietly - ideally behind closed doors, with a strong cup of tea and a biscuit. The art of emotional restraint has long been worn as a badge of honour. To be civilised became synonymous with being silent.

By contrast, our generation - especially millennials - are often accused of being too emotional. We’re the “snowflake” generation: too sensitive, too fragile, too self-reflective. Yet in a climate of “grin and bear it,” perhaps the real rebellion is to feel deeply and say so out loud.

Admitting to our emotions can be uncomfortable - both for ourselves and for others. When someone tells you you’re too much, they’re often really saying they can’t tolerate their own feelings. But when we internalise that message, we learn to mute ourselves. We stop listening to the data our emotions offer.

Historically, intellect has been privileged over emotion. Women were branded hysterical, men told to grow a pair. We learned to exile feeling - visiting it only under duress or under the influence.

But feelings are not flaws in logic; they are information.

They show us what needs attention, where boundaries have been crossed, and what part of us is asking to be heard.

If you’re unsure where to start, begin here:

Anxiety - Are you living in fear of what might happen? How can you ground yourself in what is happening, right now?

Anger - What boundary has been violated? What truth are you swallowing to keep the peace?

Depression - Where have you gone numb, and what loss lies beneath the surface?

Guilt - Whose expectations are you still carrying? What would it mean to put yourself first?

Shame - Whose voice taught you to shrink? What would it feel like to take up space anyway?

No emotional state is permanent. Feelings move through us like weather - some heavy, some luminous, all fleeting.

When we stop resisting them, they stop defining us.

And if all else fails, find a quiet car park, turn up the volume, and dance it out.