Emotional Expression and the Differences Between Us

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to understand the difference between the way I express myself emotionally and the way some other people do.

Especially in romance. But in platonic and familial relationships, too.

I think a lot of my emotional confusion and hurt over the years came from the fact that I could and would express myself very openly and directly, and what came back often felt very different in tone, intensity, clarity, or willingness.

I say when I miss someone.

I say I love you.

I say I enjoy you.

I say I want to see you.

I express warmth and care and longing and affection very plainly.

And a lot of the time, what comes back is much more ambiguous.

Not always rejection.

Not always cruelty.

Not always someone intentionally withholding.

But still unclear. Or simply different from what I was expressing.

I know for a long time I experienced that difference very personally. Like the gap between what I was expressing and what I was receiving back meant there was something wrong with me, something embarrassing about my openness, or something excessive about the way I was showing up. I sometimes allowed it to mean that I was unworthy of the energy or affirmation I hoped to receive in return.

I don’t really feel that way anymore.

A lot has changed for me in the space between feeling hurt by that difference and being able to observe it without turning it against myself.

Part of that has been learning how to meet myself with the same love, care, affirmation, openness, and congruence that I was often hoping to receive from other people.

I can see now that sometimes I was approaching people with a deep desire for emotional congruence while not fully giving that same steadiness and fullness to myself first. Or at all. I wanted to be met with a certain depth of love while still learning how to consistently offer that depth to myself in my own inner world and self-relationship.

Another thing that changed is that I intentionally practiced making emotional expression safer for myself.

I practiced expressing what I truly felt without shaping it around the hope of receiving the exact same response back. I practiced letting my expression be about honestly sharing where I was emotionally in the present moment, instead of using expression as a way to secure reassurance, sameness, or emotional symmetry from another person.

And I think that has softened something in me.

Not my openness. Not my desire for congruence. But the shame and self-rejection I used to attach to difference.

What I feel now is more observational.

I can see now that some people are uncomfortable with direct emotional expression. I can also see that there are people who don’t really practice being emotionally explicit in their relationships. Even when they care deeply about someone, they may not know how to respond openly in return.

And I do have grace for that.

I also don’t want to oversimplify it into people simply “not knowing how” to express themselves. Some people may know exactly how they feel and still restrain themselves for many different reasons. Their own experiences shape how safe they feel being emotionally direct, how quickly they open up, and what kinds of expression feel available to them.

The moment I feel ready to express something does not necessarily line up with someone else’s readiness, comfort, or alignment with that same level of openness.

I understand that much more now than I used to.

I also think ambiguity can sometimes be intentional. Not always because someone is trying to manipulate you or avoid accountability, but because ambiguity can feel kinder than directness.

Sometimes the truth is not:

“I’m struggling to say how much I feel.”

Sometimes the truth is:

“I don’t feel the same way that you do.”

And instead of saying that plainly, there are some people who prefer to remain vague.

I understand why that happens.

At the same time, I think prolonged ambiguity has real emotional consequences. Especially when you are someone who values directness and emotional clarity.

What’s changed for me is not that I suddenly need everyone to express themselves exactly the way I do. I don’t. I also don’t think every person who struggles with openness is emotionally bad, cold, or incapable of love.

I just no longer make the difference between us mean something is wrong with me.

That is the part I feel most proud of.

I still want what I want.

I still want relationships where openness is met with openness. I still want to experience emotional congruence with people who are comfortable expressing care directly and honestly.

But I no longer feel ashamed of myself when that’s not what I receive back.

I no longer feel pitiful because someone else can’t meet me in the same place I’m standing.

Their ambivalence could mean many things.

Fear.

Uncertainty.

Emotional immaturity.

Overwhelm.

Conflict.

Disinterest.

Avoidance.

Confusion.

And honestly, it’s not always for me to root out exactly which one it is.

The main thing is that I no longer turn that ambiguity against myself.

There’s nothing wrong with the way I express love.

There’s nothing wrong with my openness.

There’s nothing wrong with me.

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Subtlety, Invitation, and the End of Over-Functioning in Romance