Teal Swan and Brian Scott

 

Check out their conversation: Teal Swan and Brian Scott - The Secret Intelligence Of Emotion

My whole life, I thought I was too much.
Too emotional.
Too sensitive.

That’s what they told me, over and over; the people who claimed to love me.

I stayed in a marriage where my emotions were treated like intruders. Every time I cried, every time I asked a question, every time I reached for connection; I met a wall. Coldness. Contempt. He didn’t just reject my feelings, he rejected me.

After a while, I started doing it too. Folding myself smaller. Turning away from the parts of me that felt too heavy for him to hold. Pretending I could live without them.

But there was something in me that wouldn’t go gently nor quietly. A stubborn ember that kept whispering: this hurts. The part of me that knew I deserved better.

Leaving that marriage wasn’t about empowerment slogans or images of “self-care.” It was about truth. The raw kind. The kind that stings when it lands, because... it's true.

The other day I was listening to the above linked conversation between Teal Swan and Brian Scott, and she put language to what I’ve been living for years. She said emotions aren’t problems; they’re information. She said healing doesn’t come from avoiding pain, but from listening to it.

I didn’t learn that from her. I lived it. But hearing her speak it out loud felt like someone else confirming the long journey that I just survived.

Because that’s exactly what self-love has been for me. Sitting with the parts of myself no one else wanted to be near, and choosing to love them anyway.

My oldest taught me to love myself because she was so much like me. My youngest taught me to love the most difficult things about myself; the parts that triggered outright rejection from others. I had to face that rejection again, with her, just to show her she deserves love. Just to show myself.

My ex-husband couldn’t listen to me, couldn’t love me, and seemed to hate the very core of who I was, especially my emotions. Joy, sadness, anger, longing. All of it was wrong in his eyes. An inconvenience. An annoyance. I shrank myself to fit the space he allowed, but it left me scattered, pieces of me lost in places I couldn’t find.

I allowed this, because *I* couldn't love those parts of me.

Teal’s words about trauma and emotions felt like a hand reaching through the years to pull me up. She talked about how ignoring negative emotions is like blindfolding yourself. That was my life. Blindfolded for so long I forgot what light looked like. Pretending everything was fine while my spirit withered.

When the weight of his rejection became unbearable, I started listening to myself. Really listening. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t pretty. Sitting with those buried feelings felt like sitting inside a storm; anger at his cruelty, grief for the love I would never get from him, shame for how much of myself I had abandoned.

Teal’s Completion Process, the way she spoke of going directly into those emotions, was exactly what I’d been doing without knowing its name. I let the feelings speak. I let the tears name their own reasons. I let the rage tell its story. And every time I listened, I got back a piece of myself.

I realized then that self-love isn’t about pretending you’re perfect. It’s about taking back the parts of you you’ve been told are unworthy. I started seeing my sensitivity, my passion, my intensity, all the things he called flaws, as the deepest parts of my strength. That shift is what gave me the courage to leave him. I wasn’t just leaving a man; I was leaving the version of me that was never allowed to exist.

Now, I’m building a life where my emotions are not enemies, but guides. My sadness tells me where I still need to heal. My anger points to boundaries I must protect. My joy shows me where I’m safe to rest. I’m not fully healed, but I am free.

I will never silence my heart again.